A/N: Some lines are lifted from the Fellowship of the Ring film. I own neither Harry nor the Lotr franchise. As recompense for a long absence, here is a very long chapter.

It was the day of the council, and the great leaders of the free peoples of Middle Earth had gathered, or at least sent representatives to Elrond's council. Harry looked around, and nodded politely to those who he knew, Legolas and a couple of elves with whom he had a very slight acquaintance. He was sitting next to Gandalf and Frodo, who still looked rather the worse for wear, having been discharged from the medical area only a couple of days ago, with Bilbo sitting nearby. Harry's face creased itself into a smile, as he remembered his first meeting with the old hobbit.

They had got along well enough initially, especially when Harry proved to be a good listener to Bilbo's tales, one of which had been interrupted by Pippin bringing afternoon tea, or more accurately, chivvying along a remarkably forbearing elf carrying afternoon tea.

Then Pippin had asked, "Can you show me some of your magic Harry?" in a pleading tone that was hard to resist. Unfortunately for Pippin, Harry had been turning over part of Bilbo's tale in his head and had absently said, "Yeah, sure Pip." And waved his wand to perform the aguamenti charm, however, as he was not concentrating and his wand was aimed in Pippins general direction, instead of a gentle fountain, a powerful blast of water hit the surprised hobbit who was sent flying.

Harry had hastily stopped the spell and run over to check on Pippin, while Bilbo had laughed his head off. Pippin had, needless to say been slightly upset, but had been placated by a hastily conjured chicken sandwich.

He pulled himself out of his happy reverie to here a slight rustling noise in the bushes behind him. He quickly performed a super sensory charm, and heard the breathing of 3 hobbits. He grinned to himself. Let them stay, he thought, they will provide entertainment soon enough.

As Elrond began his long explanation of the origins of the one ring, Harry, having heard it soon after his arrival in Middle Earth, automatically tuned it out while scanning various people's faces. Many were studiedly impassive, or curious, but the large man on the far left of the semi circle of seats was listening intently, though judging from the look on his face, didn't understand very much. Harry narrowed his eyes, as he recognised this man. Ah yes, Boromir of Gondor. Elrond had mentioned him earlier. Just after he had explained his intentions for Harry. And the reasons behind them.

When Elrond got to the end of his speech, Boromir said, his voice in enraptured tones, his eyes burning with ambition and hatred, almost as if he was repulsed by his own feelings.

"It is a gift...a gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, held the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!"

Aragorn made to get up but Harry was faster. "The ring accepts no master other than he who made it. You would doom us all if you tried to use it to fight him." Harry said calmly and matter of factly.

Aragorn added, "Harry is right. You cannot wield it. None of us can."

"What would a mere ranger and a boy know of this matter?" Boromir asked dismissively, causing Harry to bristle with indignation. He did not take well to being called, 'boy'. The last person unwise enough to do so had found his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. However Harry doubted that such tactics would make him very popular, friend of Gandalf or not, so he held his tongue and his spells.

Legolas stood up and said "This is no mere ranger. This is Aragorn son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

As Boromir looked shocked, Gandalf continued, "And this is Harry, a wizard sent from far away by the Valar to help us."

Harry inclined his head to the shell shocked Boromir with a faint grin. Gandalf's faint embellishment of the reasons he was in Middle Earth had produced an amusing effect. Shocking authority figures, particularly arrogant ones, was an amusement that never got old, no matter what world he was in. Boromir regained his haughty facade and muttered defiantly, "Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no king."

"Aragorn is right, we cannot use it." Gandalf interjected firmly.

Harry noted wryly that he had not been considered important enough to warrant a comeback from Boromir. That would change in a bit. The ring was just like a horcrux, he mused, though one with the added ability to make people invisible, and it was a bit more subtle. And much harder to destroy, because he doubted that the sword of Elendil, impressive as it was would be able to destroy the ring like the sword of Gryffindor. Just then, Elrond said what he guessed had been coming.

"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed." Elrond said.

"Then what are we waiting for?" one of the younger dwarfs growled. Before anyone could stop him, he had picked up an axe, stepped towards the ring and swung the axe in a perfect curve straight onto the ring, whereupon the axe shattered and its owner was thrown onto his back.

"The ring cannot be destroyed by any craft we here possess, Gimli son of Gloin." Elrond said gently to the surprised dwarf. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

Harry smiled wryly as there was a distinct lack of volunteers standing forth to take hold of the most dangerous artefact in Middle Earth, many eyeing it with suspicion. Once, he would have stepped forward himself, however this time someone else had to be the hero. Stealing a glance at Frodo, he reckoned he could guess who it would be. Just about.

Finally Boromir broke the silence. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs." He paused for a beat. "There is evil there that does not sleep and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust...the very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It

is folly."

"You may not have noticed, but we do not have 10,000 men. Besides, armies are hard to hide, especially from one such as Sauron." Harry observed quietly. That should send them down the right track, he thought, satisfied. Or not, he sighed inwardly, as Legolas sharply rebuked Boromir, which provoked Gimli, starting a shouting match in which everyone save the hobbits, at first Gandalf and Elrond and Harry himself.

He waited a few moments, then said, "Sonorus". Then he said, "Be quiet! This arguing helps no one." in stern tones, that achieved an immediate effect. Many of them looked at him as if he had just grown horns. Harry paid their expressions no mind, as he had seen many of them as he had travelled through Middle Earth. He muttered the counter charm then said mildly, "Now I have your attention." And indicated Frodo, who had in the intervening moments, been trying to make himself heard.

The Hobbit glanced at Harry half gratefully half nervously and said in a clear voice, "I will take the Ring to Mordor." And then added more quietly, "But I do not know the way."

Harry smiled softly. He saw himself in the small and slightly frightened Hobbit, and he stood forward at the same time as Gandalf. They shared the briefest of glances and Harry indicated that Gandalf should go first.

"I will help you bear this burden Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." The old wizard said. Harry then said, "I also shall stand with you, though my task will mean I have to deal with Saruman." By way of explanation he added, "At the very least I can attract his attention. My power is different from his, and I have reason to believe he covets that sort of power, yet cannot defeat its bearer as he can with Gandalf." Gandalf indicated his assent, though many others looked slightly confused. How could a boy triumph where Gandalf could not?

Aragorn stood forward and said, "If by my life or death, I can protect you, then I will."

As the others stood forward to pledge their allegiance, Gimli and Legolas not looking best pleased at being comrades, Boromir, with just the slightest trace of reluctance, which Harry supposed was fair. He just wanted the best for his city.

Harry grinned as first Sam, and then Merry and Pippin broke cover, the first causing Elrond to attain a look of amused irritation, the next two creating a look of mingled shock and outrage.

As Elrond surveyed them and pronounced them, "The fellowship of the Ring." ,Pippin piped up with, "Great. Where are we going?" in such innocent tones, that Harry covered his face with his hand and mumbled, "We're so doomed."

The next morning Harry rose early. It was an old habit, one drummed into him in early life by the Dursley's, and then reinforced by the hunt for the Horcruxes and life in middle earth. Looking out on the wide vista of Rivendell, he spotted Aragorn and Arwen speaking quietly to each other.

It hadn't taken him long after his arrival to work out that Aragorn and Arwen were totally smitten with one another, and not much later realised the political ramifications of Aragorn's mere existence. Around the same time he noticed how much Elrond was against the marriage of Arwen and Aragorn, not wanting Arwen to follow the path of Luthien to Aragorn's Beren, making demands of Aragorn, that he take his place as King of Gondor and Arnor to marry Arwen. This all led Harry to conclude that Aragorn and Arwen's love was the stuff of fairy tales, right down to the interfering Dark Lord.

Still, Harry thought grimly, if this expedition fails, the small matter of Aragorn and Arwen's eternal and undying love will be inconsequential. He wandered out of his room, deciding to take a stroll around Imladris before breakfast. To his surprise, as he turned the corner he walked straight into Boromir, who had, like him, not been looking where he was going. Hurried apologies were exchanged, then Boromir asked hesitantly, "Tell me Master Potter, who were you before you came here? You are the most mysterious man I have ever come across. Your wand appears to be a mere twig compared to Gandalf's staff, yet 'ere I arrived I heard whispered tales of a man fitting your description single handedly destroying roaming bands of Orcs and other dark creatures. They said you never stayed long, you just disappeared into the shadows. Did you know they call you the 'Wizard in the Shadows' ?"

Harry hesitated, but the man's earnest expression, and curiosity loosened his tongue. "I come from a land far away, not a land of Middle Earth but one like it, in some manners anyway, for instance, there are many wizards, though few of Gandalf's level of power. When I was a baby, there was an exceptionally powerful Dark wizard called Lord Voldemort. He was so feared that people refused to speak his name, merely calling him, You-Know-Who, or He-who-must-not-be-named. I was prophesied to kill him, much like your dream." Harry said, nodding at Boromir.

"He decided to kill me first. My parents and I lived under the protection of a powerful charm that prevented anyone who didn't know where it was getting in. Unless they had been told by the secret keeper. My parents chose as their secret keeper one of my father's friends, Peter Pettigrew, a wizard who among other things could turn into a rat. It was most appropriate. My parents thought that Voldemort would go for my father's best friend and my Godfather- a sort of guardian, Sirius Black. Pettigrew was Voldemort's spy and the little rat told him where we lived. Voldemort killed my father, then my mother. He offered her life if she handed me over. She refused and sacrificed herself to save me. The sacrifice meant that Voldemort's killing curse rebounded, destroying his body and leaving a scar on my forehead."

Harry pulled his hear away from his forehead to show Boromir the scar. By now, the Gondorian looked horrified and sympathetic.

"Pettigrew pinned the blame on Sirius, because no one else knew, blew up a street killing 13 people, cut off his finger to make it look like he had been blasted apart. Sirius was imprisoned in a place called Azkaban, a prison in the middle of the sea, run by dementors, similar to the Ringwraiths in their effects. They drain every happy thought and memory, until you are an insane gibbering shell. They can also administer the Dementors kiss, that is to say, they suck the soul out of your mouth. He stayed sane because he knew he was innocent. It was one thought they couldn't take. I had fought Voldemort twice more by the time I met him, once at 11, then at 12, though I fought part of his ripped apart soul. I met Sirius at 13, the next year I saw Voldemort reborn into a new body. I had fought him while he was possessing someone, and part of his soul, which I destroyed, but not him in his proper body. The year after, my mentor, Albus Dumbledore, an old man, but the most powerful wizard in the world, fought, and pretty much beat Voldemort protecting me, as he had lured me into a trap, to get hold of something no one else could, a copy of the prophecy about Voldemort and I."

Here Harry's tone saddened. "Sirius died fighting his insane cousin. She blasted him through a gateway of sorts. It's fairly safe to assume he is dead. When I was 16, Dumbledore was murdered, and passed on a quest to find the hidden pieces of Voldemort's soul and destroy them. With the help of two of my friends I did, and I killed Voldemort. But winning came at a price, many of my friends, the last of my father's friends, who was one of teachers were killed. I just wanted to leave, everyone was clamouring to meet the' Chosen one' who had liberated them from Voldemort. So I was sent here, to heal and help." Harry looked at Boromir, who was now regarding him with a mixture of compassion and incredulity.

At last the older man said, "You have fought so hard and long, and lost so much and you are still young. It is a marvel you are still in one piece. In many ways, it appears that we are the same you and I." Boromir chuckled and added, "And we need your experience at killing Dark lords with split souls."

Harry smiled wryly, and as they walked to breakfast, thought that Boromir might just be right.