Volume 1 - Chapter 02

Harry hated magical travel with only one exception: flying (be it on a broom, hippogriff, or thestral). And that was because Harry felt free when he was flying, like he could soar to the heavens and back or never to return again. When he was flying, Harry was in charge of his own fate. All other forms were worse than the next. For example: worse than apparition was using the floo network; worse than using the floo network was riding on the Knight Bus; worse than riding the Knight Bus was taking a portkey and worse than a portkey was side-along apparition… or, at least, that was Harry's opinion on the matter. .

With that in mind, it was perfectly understandable that Harry was wary about magically traveling to Middle-earth. They weren't simply traveling to another location within the UK - they weren't even traveling within the same world. They were going to another realm entirely.

Thankfully, traveling to Middle-earth was an experience like nothing Harry had previously experienced. The entire trip had been a smooth transition from one realm to the other in a flash of all encompassing, golden light. The light didn't make him feel as if he were being squeezed into a tube; it didn't make him dizzy or cover him in soot; it didn't toss him back and forth like a rag doll; it didn't pull from his navel to sweep him off his feet and drop him unceremoniously on his arse. Instead, Harry had felt a comforting warmth surrounding him like a fluffy blanket before it gently released him in the new world. The light had been so heartening that Harry was nearly sorry it had ended.

Especially once he was released from the golden light.

Harry's knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground with a groan. What had once felt like a warm - almost loving - embrace soon left the teen feeling decidedly bereft, aching, and overheated to the point of internally burning. Harry curled into a fetal position and shook uncontrollably. His body felt as if it was being torn apart, piece by piece before being set on fire. Luna was quickly kneeling at his side and crying out to her friend, "Harry!"

- - - - MoD-V01 - - - -

There was work to be done. The One had resurfaced after an era of hiding and it was the nazgûl who were expected to retrieve it. The hunt continued without success.

The ringwraiths broke into two parties searching for the wretched creature they allowed to escape. They traveled from town to town seeking any who had seen or heard of Gollum. No answers were forthcoming. Er-Murazor, Dwar, Ji Indur, and Akhorahil were riding west along the Isen when it hit them.

Pain.

The riders had come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the path. There had been no visible enemy nearby. No physical attack had come. Yet there was an intense and piercing pain that tore through the nazgûl down to their wretched souls. Sauron was still angry with the Nine for what he perceived as their failure to find the ring and let it be known often.

Each nazgûl reacted to the startling assault. Keening filled the air. The Witch-king slipped from his saddle and painfully stumbled to a nearby tree. Dwar, Ji Indur, and Akhorahil followed suit, kneeling on the road. Better to be braced for what was to come than to fall from their steeds.

Then they screamed - high-pitched and earsplitting - from the sensation. Their horses answered with screams of their own while rearing back and kicking their front legs at the unseen foe. Had their mounts felt it too, or had they simply replied in kind?

The agony had left the ringwraiths trembling from the exertion. Pain. The nazgûl knew pain. Sauron's 'gift' to them was eternal pain. Yet a new sentience swept through them, slipping almost seamlessly into their awareness alongside Sauron's endless presence. Er-Murazor gripped the trunk to steady himself. The metallic claws of his gloves dug into the bark of the tree, splintering the wood without him realizing it. Dwar was gasping, clutching his chest. Ji Indur keened. Akhorahil's gloved hand dug into the road. They worked past the throbbing ache to reach an understanding; after all, it had been a lifetime since any of them felt anything other than pain, loss, and despair. This new consciousness was light, calm, and soothing.

Peace. Hope.

What had caused these new sensations? The Witch-king's body jolted in surprise as the answer came to him with a shock of absolute clarity. Each ringwraith turned to look at their brothers as understanding came to them and as one turned to their leader. Er-Murazor nodded once in silent agreement.

The Master had come to Middle-earth.

- - - - MoD-V01 - - - -

"I'm okay," Harry gasped out. Harry was panting for reasons he didn't understand, and he was getting quite light headed.

"Easy now. Slow your breathing. The air is thinner here than on your world," came the deep voice of… Cellophane? No… Cell… Cer… Luna's father… only she wasn't Luna. Harry's mind was muddled, and he was finding it very hard to focus so he gave up trying to remember names for the moment and concentrated on his breathing. In, slowly, through the nose. Out, slowly, through the mouth. In, through the nose. Out, through the mouth. The man that wasn't Mr. Lovegood gently rested his hand on Harry's shoulder when he continued to speak. Harry could feel the heat of the man's touch and it calmed Harry's breathing. The teen took a shaky breath in and slowly exhaled. "The warmth of the Valar has cleansed you so you will not bring any foreign diseases to our lands. We too were subjected to such a thorough cleansing upon our persons when we entered Earth. It can be a bit invasive." A bit? Harry could do nothing but snort in amusement followed by a groan in reply. Celeborn - right, that was his name… maybe - gave Harry's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "The Valar has blessed you with good health in thanks for coming to our aid." Helping Harry into a seated position, Celeborn said, "Welcome to Middle-earth."

"Thanks, I…" Harry began as he looked around and squinted at his surroundings. His vision was swimming and blurred in a headache inducing fashion. Harry pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"You won't be needing those, Harry," Luna told her friend. "As Atar said, the Valar has gifted you good health."

The young wizard was stunned that he could see, his vision perfect. Harry looked at his surroundings in utter awe. They had landed at the edge of the woods overlooking a quick flowing river, everything a beautiful lush green. Harry could feel the magic in the air. Harry criss-crossed his legs before him as he sat there taking it all in. Luna was sitting on Harry's left, not caring that she was most likely getting her white dress dirty, and Celeborn sat on his right, also apparently not caring that he was wearing white.

"Wicked." Harry looked at his glasses in his hands and then at the world around him again before grinning hugely at his friend. Harry sat up straight, rolled his shoulders and extended his legs. Harry hadn't felt this good in… he couldn't remember the last time he hadn't felt some form of residual pain somewhere in his body. Harry looked up at the clear blue sky, raised his glasses in a toasting gesture, and grinned. "Cheers!"

"You have returned at long last after years without a word of your well-being," came a lilting, amused, musical voice from behind them, "and instead of coming to greet your mother to ease her worried mind, like a proper daughter should, I find you sitting in dirt."

Luna squealed in happiness, hopped up, and leapt at the newest arrival crying out, "Naneth!"

The woman Harry saw embracing his friend was stunningly beautiful. It was hard not to stare at her in awe, but Harry did his best not to be so gauche. Celeborn gave Harry a knowing grin before he stood and shook out his robes. Harry followed suit and scrambled to his feet. Celeborn gestured towards Luna and… Naneth, yes that was what Luna had called her. "Come, you must meet the Lady of the Wood."

Harry wasn't afraid to meet Luna's mum even if she was the most captivating woman… elf… person… being… Harry took a calming breath. There was just something powerfully mesmerizing about the woman that gave Harry pause. The Lady of the Wood had a strong presence that was not easily dismissed. A power more intense, yet different, than Dumbledore's. Still. Harry was a Gryffindor. He could do this. Harry faced down Voldemort; he could very well meet Luna's mother. Celeborn was just releasing his hold on Naneth by the time Harry reached them. The majestic man gestured to him, never taking his eyes off his wife, "Telerin Quenya Alatáriel,(1) this is the young wizard-"

"Harry Potter," the woman turned her blue eyes on him, and their gazes met. The wizard froze in his approach and found he couldn't - or lacked the will to - move. Which one, Harry wasn't quite sure. "You've kept my family away longer than expected."

"I'm… sorry," was Harry's reply, though it came across as a question. The young wizard wasn't sure what else he could say. It wasn't as if Harry purposefully kept Luna - what was her other name? - and Celeborn away from Middle-earth.

"Naneth," Luna scolded, "It is not Harry's fault."

"No," Naneth acquiesced, "It was yours, Linovahle." Linovahle? Right, that's what Luna said her name was. Linovahle not Luna. Harry doubted he'd remember that name and decided he'd continue to call her by Luna… at least within his own head. The Lady of the Wood hadn't taken her gaze from Harry's as she spoke.

Luna pouted as Celeborn continued the introductions, "Harry Potter, this is my mate, my heart: Galadriel, Lady of Lórien, Lady of the Galadhrim, Lady of the Wood and Lady of Light."

Harry was confused. Celeborn said her name was Galadriel, but Luna called her Naneth… and then it clicked for Harry. Galadriel was Luna's mum. Naneth must've meant mum or mother. Harry felt a bit silly and felt a blush rise before he could stop it, but Galadriel continued to address Harry, utterly ignoring any introductions being attempted, "There was a dark taint upon you, yet it did not corrupt you. How is this possible?"

Galadriel's words weren't accusing; simply curious. The woman's gaze flitted over the teen as she awaited his explanation. Harry squirmed under the scrutiny and finally was able to utter a stilted response, "It was a horcrux… I… was a horcrux," Harry said and promptly elaborated when Galadriel cocked her head in confusion. "That's what we call a soul container." He took a deep breath and calmed his nerves. "Voldemort, the Dark Lord that I… erm…"

"Vanquished," Luna prompted.

"Vanquished… sure." Harry glanced at his friend with a grateful grin. "Anyhow, Voldemort was apparently afraid to die. He did a magical ritual to cheat death: he broke his soul into 7 pieces and put them in soul containers called horcruxes; then he stashed them around in different secret, heavily guarded, places. So long as even one of his horcruxes remained whole, Voldemort would live. I had to hunt them down to make sure they were all destroyed. That way he would be mortal and finally killed. I was an accidental horcrux… Voldemort didn't… know he'd…"

Harry's eyes slipped closed, and his words tapered off when Galadriel's fingertips brushed across his forehead - when did she get close enough to do that? - and stopped on his lightning bolt scar. Her cool touch was like a soothing balm and Harry sighed faintly. Galadriel's words were melodiously spoken yet clearly heard by everyone, "Your soul is a beacon of light in the darkness."

His eyes fluttered open and Harry blinked a time or two before he could manage to put his thoughts into words, "Is that a good thing? Because the way you said that… I'm thinking it might not be."

Galadriel laughed and stepped back from the young wizard. "I see why my daughter is fond of you." The woman looked to her husband. Celeborn didn't need any further prompting; he stepped forward and offered his arm to his wife. Galadriel looped her hand in the crook of his elbow and beckoned the two to follow along. "Come, Middle-earth is awakening and will learn of your arrival soon enough."

Harry offered his arm to Luna, much as Celeborn had to Galadriel. When his friend was close he lowered his voice and mentioned, "Your mother didn't answer my question."

"Hmm," was Luna's response… which didn't answer his question either.

"Oh, that's not ominous…" Harry muttered under his breath.

Luna giggled and beamed at him. "Nothing more than what you're already accustomed to."

"Right, about that… I was hoping this time around wouldn't be filled with so many secrets, half-truths, and riddles. Dumbledore was big on secrets, manipulations, and not telling you something until he deemed that you were 'ready' to be told. Even if it meant he died and someone else had to give me a clue. His methods nearly cost Ron our friendship and it cost Snape his life." Harry watched Galadriel's retreating form, wondering if Luna would respond to what he had been saying but wasn't overly surprised when she didn't.

Harry's steps began to slow as he took in their new surroundings. Luna pressed closer to him and said in a quiet voice, "This is Lothlórien, also called the Golden Woods by some."

Lothlórien was very much as its name's sake implied: it was dawn and the sun was emerging from the other side of the world with its orange and yellow beams of light rising warmly over lush grass, brilliantly colored flowers and numerous large trees. Harry noticed that each tree was huge; not just in width, but also in height. And each large tree had a set of stairs wrapped around their expansive trunk. Unlike the grand staircase in Hogwarts - made of marble, had trick steps, and occasionally moved - these stairs seemed to be made of white wood that looked as if they grew directly out of the tree's trunk as it circled upwards. Harry grinned at the craftsmanship of the banisters that wrapped over the stairs, giving it a cover like roof even though the sides were completely open to the elements. The style reminded him of the covered bridge that Seamus and Neville blew up during the…

Harry felt his grin slip away and he forcefully cleared his thoughts of the Battle at Hogwarts. He looked up as much as he could manage without falling backwards, but, try as he might, Harry couldn't see where the stairs finally led to; the tops were much too high for him to see from the ground.

It eventually became evident that Harry was no longer guiding Luna behind her parents. Harry was so enraptured by the sights above them that he hadn't noticed when Luna stopped moving until she tugged on his arm to keep him from toppling into Celeborn and Galadriel.

Harry's gaze dropped back to Luna and he gave her a lopsided grin. "Sorry. There's just so much to take in."

Galadriel's voice carried over to them, "You have time to explore before your journey begins. Although your training comes first."

"Training?" Harry's eyes widened slightly at the thought of getting what he imagined would be some sort of mysterious elf training. "Excellent. What sort of training?"

A male throat cleared behind him and Harry's head snapped in that direction as his hand instinctively drew out his wand in one fluid movement. The man that had silently approached the strolling quartet soon found a wand point - lit with a spell barely held - inches from his chest. Harry's eyes were narrowed, jaw clenched, and his stance was decidedly hostile. Luna smiled at her friend and slowly lowered Harry's wand. "It's okay, Harry. We're safe here. This is Haldir, Marchwarden of Lórien. Haldir, this is my friend, Harry Potter."

Haldir didn't move nor speak. The elf merely stood with his hands clasped behind his back before he raised a questioning eyebrow at Harry. Harry's wand arm dropped fully to his side. He had to blink to assure himself that he was truly seeing the man in front of him and not a ghost. Harry's voice came out a bit shaky, "Hullo," as he tried to hold back a shudder because Haldir just resembled a blonde-elf version of Professor Snape. While Haldir wasn't an ugly, greasy haired, crooked nosed, yellow toothed git, they both had that haughty 'You are beneath me' air about them and then there was that raised eyebrow…

After a few more moments, Haldir gave Harry a small nod of acknowledgement before turning his full attention to the rest of the quartet, "Alla, my Lady. Elen síla lúmen omentielvo, Lord Celeborn, Lady Linovahle."

There was a large gathering of elves around them. They had moved so silently that Harry hadn't heard any of them approach and there had to be hundreds of them. Each elf - both male and female - was tall, slender, blonde, and lovely. They were all welcoming Celeborn and Luna back to Middle-earth. Some glanced at Harry with open curiosity, yet none approached him. Harry fought back the urge to shrink away from everyone; not only was he the only human within sight, Harry was also the only brunette.

"Come," Lady Galadriel spoke, silencing her people with a single word. She stood facing the crowd at the top of the first rotation of stairs on the nearest tree, "It is time to properly welcome our guest and show him the hospitality of elves."

Timeline:

TA 3018, Sep 1 Harry comes to Middle-earth

Footnote:

(1) Telerin Quenya Alatáriel - Celeborn's pet name for his wife. I found this as I was searching for what the elves called Galadriel and Celeborn, but sadly they just called them Lady and Lord

Atar = father

Alla = a form of greeting

Elen síla lúmen omentielvo = Is a greeting. Translates: A star shines on the hour of our meeting