A.N. First off, thanks to all those who reviewed my story and I hope more of you drop a word in if you like my writing. Even if you don't, I'd still like to hear your input on it. Next thing on the agenda is for you guys who take a few minutes off your life to just read a few words I happened to string together - You Rock! Wait... that's still the same issue. Darn... oh well, just drop in a word and say how you feel about my story.

This story wont be too huge. I predict (subject to change as I keep writing) something between 15 - 20 chapters of 3000-4000 words each. Hope that doesn't disappoint you guys, but if there's a good response to my story, I will definitely focus on some of the other ideas I've had.

I feel I must say this now: some of the elements of this story came to me after I read Minstrel Knight's LoTR HP Crossover, which he hasn't published yet but when he does, trust me, it's much better than mine, though it's focussed a bit more in the LoTR world. And since he told me that he was greatly inspired by Daphne Li's Four Realms, she should be mentioned here as well. That said, I like this chapter although there isn't much plot development. Guess that's enough from me, let's get back to the real stuff:

Chapter 4

Galen smiled. A strong gale of wind slapped across his face and he grinned happily. Flying on a broomstick was every bit as fun as he was told it would be and here he was, riding the torrents of the skies. Flying made him happy and peaceful, and now was a time when he most needed to ease his mind.

Swerving to his right in a fluid movement full of poise and grace, memories of the previous two weeks ran across Galen's head. Potions was an enjoyable class, for though Severus Snape was every bit as mean as Galen had expected him to be, inside he knew his Uncle Severus much better. He knew that Severus Snape's actions were more out of caring for his own House, which was full of students coming from unhappy and harsh family lives that had always been downtrodden and hurt, rather than merely a loathing for the happy and overtly cheerful Gryffindors. His favoring of Slytherin created a sense of belonging for the students that House and they came to cherish Hogwarts because of that. Galen knew it well and greatly admired his uncle for that.

Truth be told, if anything Galen was beginning to get slightly annoyed with his own House from time to time. It seemed as if most people tried a bit too hard to develop their 'Gryffindor' qualities of bravery and courage, which ended up distorted as brash, impetuous and loud. And James Potter, the man who was Galen's father biologically but in no other sense, was the epitome of those qualities. While he wasn't as petty and biased as he appeared on their first meeting, the man did hold some school-time grudge against Severus Snape and anyone related to him. As a result, the Defense classes weren't much fun for either Galen or his brother. Charms, Transfiguration and Magical Creatures were quite alright, but it was Ancient Runes with his biological mother that was currently occupying his mind. Regardless of everything, he couldn't deny the fact that she was a good teacher and he truly enjoyed her class and company. And for some reason, that felt wrong.

To make matters worse, Ginny was still acting strange around him for some reason. True, she did talk to him like any other person, but he felt a certain coldness in their young friendship which at first held all the promise of deepening into something special. Unaware of what could be the cause of this sudden estrangement, Galen had contemplated confronting her about it, but decided against it. They had only known each other for a couple of weeks, which was hardly sufficient time for him to claim friendship.

Hence, shutting his mind off while flying was a real joy and pleasure to him. His senses were washed with exhilaration at being one with the most far-reaching and dynamic of all the elements. He swooped downwards and plunged at full speed. Right at the very last moment before he would have collided against the ground, he tilted the broom upwards and stopped the dive. It was a flawless move.

Only then did he notice his audience.

"That was simply marvelous," a girl said in a slightly breathless voice, looking at Galen with much interest. "Simply marvelous."

Standing next to that girl were the two Weasleys, and Galen was pleased to note a flicker of admiration in Ginny's eyes, Danny Potter and another smaller girl. Behind were many others including his own sister, and he waved at her. When Anthea waved back with a smile, Galen caught Ginny's mood suddenly dampening. Realization dawned upon Galen like a bucket of icy cold water thrown on a sleeping person, and he almost opened his mouth to explain the situation to Ginny. But then he noticed everyone staring at him and he stopped.

"Right, Katie. Galen, have you every played Quidditch before?" Ron asked curiously.

Galen had nothing against the male redhead. He was a nice sort, perhaps a bit immature and a typical modern Gryffindor, but essentially a nice person. But Galen was the complete opposite. Maturity had hounded his childhood with an almost vengeful foray. Added to that, the highly dangerous situations he had been in all his life, had made him anything but rash and loud. They just weren't compatible.

"No, I can't say I have," Galen shrugged. "This was my first time on a broom."

"First time?" some girl in the crowd of people trying out for the Gryffindor team shoutd in disbelief.

"You're a natural, mate," Danny Potter said pleasantly. "Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it better. There! We have our seeker!"

"But we agreed to let Ginny be the seeker," Ron started protesting while Ginny looked despondently between the two. "I suppose you are right. Galen would be a much better option. Perhaps Ginny could be a chaser…"

Shaking his head, Galen stopped the two with a raised hand and said, "If you're assuming I want to be part of your sports team, I am sorry to disappoint you but I can't."

"What?" many voices came together in protest.

"I like flying and Quidditch interferes with that. When I'm in the skies, I don't like being stared at by hundreds of people, or having to focus my attention on something besides my flying."

"But you can't do that!" Danny protested. "What about Gryffindor? We could win the House cup with you as our seeker. The Slytherins will stand no chance."

"I saw Ginny fly yesterday during your practice. She's as good as I am, and has more experience with the game. She'll do much better than me." He smiled at Ginny, who refused to meet his eye and gazed indifferently in his general direction. Sighing inwardly, he finished. "I'm sorry. I can't play Quidditch." And then ignoring the protests, he jumped off from the ground and soared up high, troubled by Ginny's reaction to him, or rather, the lack of.

And so he flew for the rest of the day, high and far - with no purpose, like the wind, and with much majesty, like an eagle. Until, it became darker and light faded. With the fading of the light came fog.

Fog shrouded the skies. Mist hung so thick it was impossible to see more than three feet ahead. The bright light from the towers of the Hogwarts Castle were reduced to dim yellow spots in the distance, and even the lantern outside Hagrid's Hut became just a faint speck of light across the grounds. From his position in the skies, there was little that was visible, and Galen's senses were confounded. Distances became meaningless and the entirety of the universe was obscured.

Even sound was muted. No matter where he flew, little could be made out, and he slowly lowered himself, while feeling with his feet for ground. Upon completing his descent, he clutched his broom tightly and walked in the direction that he thought was right. His footsteps were a soft grinding of heel on caked mud rather than a clatter of leather on stone, and added to the aura of gloom that was all around.

Even so, Galenel Telcontar knew he was being stalked. He had known that the instant he had touched the ground. He had lingered for several moments, fingering his wand, and expecting someone or something to come charging at him, but was greeted by silence. Galen listened as he walked and let his Elvish instincts take over. He had learned years earlier with the aid of his father the way to survive in the wild, and the places of man were simple a different kind of wilderness, and all the skills he had learned as a child in the mountains to the far north of their hidden island and the forests in the middle, could keep him alive in any city. Each place had its own rhythm and pace, its own dynamic feeling, and once he was comfortable within that environment, threats and opportunities would be recognized, just as they were in the wild.

"It is unsafe for you to be out in this mist," a voice came from behind him where he imagined his pursuer was, and Galen turned instantly, his wand outstretched. Only it was no longer a wand but a gleaning blue and silver sword made out of ripples of electricity that was extended in a defensive position before the youth.

"I mean you no harm," the voice called out, and the soft clip clop of hooves followed it, and out came a Centaur from the mist and into Galen's sight. "I am Firenze and I teach Divination at the Castle."

Galen blinked. "I have seen much in this world, but I had yet to have the honor of meeting a Centaur. It is a pleasure to meet you, Firenze. I am Galenel Greenstar."

"Or so you claim," the Centaur said sagely, reaching the side of the youth. Disregarding Galen's surprised exclamation, he continued, "Come let us walk together. Four eyes might find the path that eludes two."

"Are the stars so bored of mortals that they have nothing other for the ageless than to speak of my true identity?" Galen asked, wondering which identity of his was known to the Centaur - a prince or a Potter.

"You underestimate your own importance, Mister Green Eyes. The stars reveal only that which is of the greatest importance."

Galen sighed. His mother, Lady Amaryllis had no talent at deciphering the stars, while his father, a part Elf like Galen, could barely make out anything except signs of great doom approaching. He himself had no talent in reading the skies, perhaps a side effect of not being born an Elf, although his brother Eldarion managed to do as much as their father. But Centaurs, like the true Elves could gather much information from the night sky. And it didn't seem a coincidence to Galen that a Centaur found him alone while he was wandering in mist and shadow.

"What do the stars say to you, Ancient One? My path is shrouded in mist. Will you clear it for me?"

The Centaur didn't reply for several minutes and they walked in silence.

"I could tell you the way to the Castle," he finally stated. "But if I did so, and then left you to find the Castle on your own, you could yet get lost or lose your way or forget part of my directions. Your losing your way would then be partly my fault. The instant I take part in guiding you, I am bound to stay with you until the end. When the destination is but mere minutes away, I can do that."

The Centaur continued. "That is one reason why we have few dealings with other peoples. We are mighty in culture, but we are an ancient race, misunderstood woefully by others."

In other circumstances, Galen would have burst out laughing as that phrase had been repeated to him so often during his travels that it was something of a joke. But in the midst of the austere splendor and age-old wisdom on the face of the centaur, Galen nodded. The Elves were one of the only beings older than the Centaurs and Galen understood the true reasons why the Centaurs lives in the forest in seclusion. Though half-horse, the Centaurs loved the forests for its openness and simplicity, and not because they were beasts. In fact, they were sometimes much more humane and wiser than any other mortal and yet they were a people who were distrusted, even feared by outsiders.

Galen considered his words. "One must be careful with whom one shares the secret of the stars." He waited, then said, "Else one must consider the risk of condemning the future."

Firenze nodded and stopped. He stared into the distance for a few moments and smiled. His reaction was puzzling for Galen. Why would the Centaur stop if he knew the way back? And if he didn't, then why would he smile? But Firenze waited for several seconds as if waiting for something, and then he spoke out in a much louder voice:

"Galenel Greenstar, you are very perceptive for… a human."

Galen shrugged. "I am of Elven blood, and while my father and brother often comment on my boldness and lack for decorum, I would not be asking for your counsel if I didn't hold it in high esteem."

"We do not permit many to know what is written in the stars, Prince Elerin Telcontar," the Centaur responded and Galen didn't react to the use of his name in its royal form. "In the history of our people, there have been fewer than a dozen occasions where the Tribe Elders have decided to give counsel to mortals, and when the Centaurs decided to meddle in mortal affairs, they have spoken to Goblins and Giants. Never has a human been permitted such a privilege."

Galen weighed his options. Ordinarily, he would have continued his request by either stating his reasons for the Centaur's advice or by offering something of value to the person. Somehow, he didn't think either would work in this case and instead, he faced the Centaur blankly.

"But you wouldn't be telling me all this if you hadn't already determined to give me your counsel."

"Perhaps. Perhaps I am still undecided. The stars are shrouded in mystery and even the Centaur Elders are not agreed on any single interpretation. I fear to misdirect the flow of the time arrow. Advice must always be retrained, even from the wise to the wise, for none can predict with certainty the implication of their counsel."

"You speak true. But which is the greater regret - a word spoken in haste, or a word left unsaid?" Galen asked curiously. "A word spoken in haste to my sister, I do not regret. A word left unspoken to Ginny Weas.. a friend I have unwittingly hurt, that I do." He looked at the Centaur who seemed extremely pleased for some reason.

"Who can tell, save one who knows with certainty of what is to come and none in this earthen sphere can claim to do that. But I have decided to play my part. No advice I have for you now, nor did I ever have any. The stars spoke to me not to speak to you, but to speak of you. And so I do - Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived. You will find your own path from here." With that, the Centaur raised his front legs and with a sudden sideways movement, galloped out of sight.

Galen gaped in shock at the disappearing half-human, and didn't notice the approach of another set of footsteps. It was only when he sensed a movement very close to him that his senses returned to their full awareness, and he recoiled from the sight in front of him.

Ginny Weasley. She was staring at Galen in utter disbelief, and from the sight of her puffed up eyes, Galen could make out that she had been listening to their conversation or at least since he mentioned her name. He gazed at her in a troubled look. "Did you hear?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as she almost imperceptibly nodded. Walking slowly, she came to him with uncertainty and Galen couldn't help reach out and touch her cheek to wipe out a tear.

"Mum used to baby-sit Danny when we were younger. Mrs. Potter used to have horrible fits around June. Once I heard her talking to mum about her son whom she lost and how unloved he had been. I cried that night. And every other night when Danny would come to the Burrow. I would cry for Harry Potter."

Galen moved and his knees threatened to buckle. Reflexively he stretched his hand for balance which collided against Ginny's who had reached out to support him. He stumbled and fell, his head swimming with Ginny's words. He had long put that name behind him and it carried little hurt to him now, but to know that someone else felt the pain for him, and long after he found happiness for himself. Someone who didn't even know the lonely and lost boy. Someone he had begun to think a lot of recently.

He forced himself to breathe slowly and opened his eyes. A mass of red hair was all he could see and he realized that Ginny was clinging tightly to him. Softly, he touched the flaming hair and stroked it tenderly. It felt like pure silk to his fingers, smooth and soft and full of life. Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead, inhaling the fragrance of the girl.

An hour later, Galen sat silently at dinner in the Great Hall, wondering at all the odd feelings of delight and uncertainty that were coming to him. He stole a sideways glance at Ginny and saw her watching him. He smiled at her and she returned it, and he felt joyous inside. On returning, he had learnt that both Ginny and Anthea had worked up to a frenzy when the heavy mist had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Both had seen Galen disappear into the skies, and he hadn't returned. The teachers were all worked up as several First Years were also missing but had gone off in a different direction. It was then that Firenze the Centaur volunteered to search for the older youth due to his fast speed and good eyesight. And Ginny had managed to sneak out and follow.

Among everyone present only Eldarion had kept his calm. He trusted his brother to be able to look after himself. Mere fog was no worry. Galen was clever enough to descend to the ground. And they had been through enough to not worry about Galen getting lost. He would find his way back eventually. And if not, Morwen would always be of help. So while all the frenzy was taking place in the Great Hall, Eldarion calmly took a bite of his roast lamb. And when Galen returned, his only comment was, "Next time, I will tell mother you are making a habit of skipping dinners."

Galen had laughed merrily with his brother. He could act as grumpy as he wanted to, but Galen knew how much he would have been worried. But if there was one thing Eldarion was good at, it was at knowing each of their skills and abilities, and trust. Pushing him aside in a fond way, Galen nodded at Daphne who had become a constant companion of his brother and walked back to the Gryffindor table, where several people seemed disgruntled with his decision to avoid Quidditch. Surprisingly, Ron Weasley nodded at him politely and Galen smiled back. Perhaps they weren't as incompatible as he had originally felt. Then while Neville and Hermione exchanged witty remarks and argued over some trivial issue with Ron, he noticed from afar a dark cloud descending over his brother in the Slytherin table, and with that Galen's own mood darkened. He knew what his brother was thinking of and his thoughts turned to the coming battle. How could he afford the time for anything other than that, he wondered to himself, trying very hard to not feel the rush of emotions he got from the pretty redhead next to him. And failed.