Child of the Stars

He had yet to touch the other two Hallows. No plans to until he understood as much as he could about them. Yet the more research they poured over, a true understanding seemed just out of grasp. At the same time, Gilriant’s little experimental journey through dreams under the invisibility cloak seemed to irrevocably open something up within him.

It was as if he could see more. Harry didn’t always stay mewed up in Grimmauld place. The vast majority of his time yes, but there were a handful of times he went out disguised in some fashion. Pick up books, materials, things he needed to look at and handle himself to see if it would suit his needs. Not often, rarely for long, still it happened from time to time. The first time he ventured out after, the world just didn’t look the same.

It was as if people, objects, even buildings had a faint overlay of colors. In some rare cases, even a bit of song. The colors didn’t seem to match up with what they were wearing, or their expressed emotion. More like hidden properties. A stern looking witch painted with softer colors. An old looking wizard that had an echo of a child’s lullaby. A cheerful looking individual that had a darkness about them. They didn’t interfere with what he could see with his eyes. Gilriant wouldn’t say he saw them visually so to speak. Just that they were there. It was difficult to put into words even when he tried to explain it to Maglor.

Then, there were the other Hallows.

I can hear you but I won't
Some look for trouble while others don't
There's a thousand reasons I should go about my day
And ignore your whispers, which I wish would go away, oh

It was a whisper, an inaudible song coming from the box the two other hallows rested in. A tempting plea beckoning him. Not a call to be used, but to be known. One could not, would not understand items by simply reading and letting them sit. Yet there was an inherent risk in handling them. One that he could not simply disregard. Not when he already felt the change from using the cloak the way he had.

Harry wasn’t ready. He knew he wasn’t. Knowing that if he just picked them up, things would never be the same. On a certain level he didn’t want them to be. Yet right now, was also the time he had the most to lose. He had a family that loved him. Maglor gave him lessons, his Grandfather and Uncles, which is what Elured and Elurin had decided to go by, keeping him company. (They still wouldn’t tell him which was his direct ancestor.) Even Kreacher who fussed over and looked after him.

The young wizard could feel the vibrant bond between himself and the House Elf. One that went both ways. Yes, the house elf served him. But Harry’s magic also served the small being, feeding him somehow. There was probably something about that in the journals somewhere. He’d have to go look it up. A matter for another time. For now the point was Kreacher was family as much as any of the others. One that cared for and valued him.

What if picking up the items changed him into something else. What if it caused him to lose everything?

You're not a voice, you're just a ringing in my ear
And if I heard you, which I don't, I'm spoken for I fear
Everyone I've ever loved is here within these walls
I'm sorry, secret siren but I'm blocking out your calls

Harry couldn’t afford to put all that at risk. So many times he had jumped on an impulse and lost. Some of the most precious and important things in his life were lost because he couldn’t be patient. Because he had to give in to that urge to just do something. So for now he needed to shut out that call. Keep himself anchored in the here and now. Read his books, discuss the possibilities with Maglor, let Kreacher fuss over him, dream with his relatives. Play music for the lost ones. Keep them company and let them keep company with him in turn.

I've had my adventure, I don't need something new
I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I follow you

Yet, there was something else there. Something with such beautiful potential. Death might be change, but, life was change as well. To stay in one place wasn’t living. It was stagnation. There was inherent risk in that. It was a trap that the unwary could easily fall into. To learn, to challenge oneself, to to reach for what lay beyond your grasp. Perhaps calculated risks at times, but still risks. Weighing it all could be so confusing.

Into the unknown
Into the unknown
Into the unknown

The real kicker was. He’d already taken that leap. At least the first part of it. He invited the beginning of the change by seeking out what he might discover with just the cloak. Harry might not have tried it again yet, but still the change had started. He wanted to make sure he was rested and ready considering how draining the experience had been and how not under his own control it had been. Gilriant had connected, however tentatively, with Ea. The world his elven ancestors came from. With the being that existed in the place between. The Hallows were not the only thing tugging at him.

What do you want? 'Cause you've been keeping me awake
Are you here to distract me so I make a big mistake?
Or are you someone out there who's a little bit like me?
Who knows deep down I'm not where I'm meant to be?

The connection had reached back out to him. Gilriant could feel it when he closed his eyes, hear it just on the edge of sound. Sometimes even when he was fully awake and busy. Music was a bridge and a distraction at times. Pulling his attention away from other things. Feeling like others were now reaching back towards him. If Harry was honest with himself. It also felt far more comfortable than ‘his’ world did not for him.

There were definitely days that he felt like an extra puzzle piece. Like someone was putting away multiple puzzles only he got put in the wrong box. Every day that sensation grew by a little bit. That part though started a long time ago. Harry’s current situation just brought it into greater contrast. He never was part of the Dursley’s family. Even at Hogwarts he was held apart. Teachers that treated him differently because of his ‘status’. Or because of who his parents were. Students whispers, the gossip and rumors, the infamy and lies sprouted by The Daily Prophet. Especially from how Dumbledoor treated him.

No, Harry had never really belonged.

Every day's a little harder, as I feel my power grow
Don't you know there's part of me that longs to go

It all compiled, pushing down on him. What held him back so far? His family here. Harry could not, would not, do anything that took him away from them. Yet in the long run the plan was to find a way to get them home. They didn’t belong here anymore than he did. The only one that did was Kreacher. The little house elf that he owed so much to at this point. At some point he would need to figure out a way to have a conversation with him that would not make the small being upset.

At the same time what he felt, what he heard, what he could reach out and touch with his senses were gaining. Touching the world around him. Giving him new information and sensations that he didn’t have the words for. Beyond the understanding that he started with in his human wizarding experience. Gilriant wanted it with every fiber of his being. Wanted to reach out and grab that opportunity to immerse himself in these new things.

Into the unknown
Into the unknown
Into the unknown

Difficult not to wonder what this all meant to him. Were these tools always meant for him? Was he supposed to take them up and fulfill what he suspected the Oath of the House of Black to be? People were careful not to admit it directly to him. Really that didn’t surprise Harry too much and there was a reason he had yet to push for an answer on that. It was very likely that once he understood it, he could be bound by it.

Maglor’s experience with an Oath pushing him into things was an example of how horrific that could be. Yet, the family he looked at, the connections that whispered to him, held a promise of something better. A place that he could belong and be accepted. Beyond just the family he held now. Something Harry had always wanted very badly. Gilriant could feel those beings, that world of Ea reaching back to him.

Are you out there? Do you know me?
Can you feel me? Can you show me?
Oh (oh), oh (oh)
Oh (oh), oh (oh)
Oh (oh), oh (oh)

Beings that didn’t know his fame. Didn’t know what the rest of his world thought of or expected from him. They weren’t reaching for the Boy-Who-Lived. They were reaching for Gilriant. The child of three elven lines. The one that had reached out to them and had only been seen briefly. If he could shed that person that he had never claimed for himself, but others claimed for him? Oh how freeing that could be.

Could taking up the remaining Hallows lead him to a place where he could belong? Could they understand all the little parts of him that didn’t fit in anywhere else? Or at least accept that he was different? Would they see him as an individual separate from everything else? Would they value him for him and not what he could do? So far from his interactions he had with his family here, they could and would. That feeling was heady and freeing.

They could teach him about a whole other world. They used magic differently, could he learn that? Gilriant could run in those woods, fly in those skies. A whole world full of new things both good and bad to learn about and explore. There were dangers, that much was very clear. Yet he had never been afraid of that. His whole life was proof that danger didn’t deter him. Harry had just learned a healthy respect for it.

Where are you going? Don't leave me alone
How do I follow you
Into the unknown?

***

In the end, the decision was inevitable. Harry needed to take up those tools at some point. Oh sure he could go about the rest of his life and ignore them, but that went against his nature. Doing that would mean ignoring the fact that his relatives were all stuck in a world they didn’t belong. Which was possible, but not within consideration for Gilriant.

This time, he included his relatives in the decision making process. Lesson learned from the cloak incident. Their input was listened to, and incorporated. Now one big sticking point, these were tools associated with Death. Could that harm those that were embodied? Could it harm those that weren’t? Was there any type of protection that could be afforded any of them? They were talking about Death after all. No one really understood death in its entirety. At most people thought they understood.

Luckily Grimmald place did have a room for rituals. In many ways this could consider some sort of ritual or invoking. It had a protective circle inlaid in the floor. Kreacher showed it to them and they decided this was best place for him to take up the other two hallows. Everything they knew about them was speculation. So whatever might happen was speculation as well.

The next decision was that all those that were solely fea would stay in the protection of the Room of the Stars. Maglor, being embodied, in a sturdier than human body, could be nearby but not in the circle. This of course was in part due to the fact Maglor flat out refused to be left out entirely and had the physical form to back that decision up. It was nice, the feeling that he had an adult he could trust to back him up. The memories of others allowing themselves to be ordered away from him stung. Thankfully he had the love of his family to help sooth that.

Kreacher, of course, would be there. For multiple reasons. One, it was his house. Two, he had something to do with the Black family oath. The house elf also was part of Harry’s family. Either way he had a very vested interest in the outcome of this. There was a third reason, he wasn’t going to let Maglor be the only one to be there for Gilriant. The young wizard chose not to comment on that part.

After a great deal of debate, they ended up deciding to do this on October 31st. True that it was the day the veil between the dead was supposedly the thinnest meant a certain amount of risk. Equally true it might help with the success of this venture. It was also a day of communication, and they needed knowledge. They very badly needed knowledge. If there was another way to get it, they would take it. Even the research from Gringotts was mostly theories and speculation. Very little hard fact was available.

In the center of the circle the box was placed that held both the other items in it. At certain points in his life, Harry had held one or the other. Just not at the same time. Certainly not all three at once. They were made to work together. So holding all of them at once, may unlock what is needed. So when he stepped into the circle, the cloak was on his back. A noticeable humm of anticipation vibrated the air, growing stronger with each moment. The runes and lines started lighting up the moment he stepped within. First were the ones closest to his feet, then spreading out. Each step inward caused the light to brighten.

Sharply contrasting the light was the darkness of the box containing the other two Hallows. It wasn’t swallowing the light. Instead it seemed to be the exact opposite of it. An absence rather than the destruction of it. At each step the dark lines spread from it to mirror the light. Bringing balance between the two forces. When they started to meet at Harry, it changed to a brilliant silver. Elements of both that wrapped around him. A power that thrummed and felt faintly familiar. Perhaps from his use of the cloak? Either way it felt like a welcome, and Gilriant welcomed it in turn.

Harry couldn’t hear or see beyond the circle now. His world narrowed down to the light, the dark, their combined silver,and the hallows. Before, these items had simply come into his possession. Now he was making a choice. Not for himself. Not for power. Not for some sort of control over death. Instead Gilriant took up the wand and the stone, to help his family.

Knowledge and power flushed through him. The first thing that struck him was that these were not instruments meant for the old and inflexible. This was something meant for the young. Those that had yet to cemented their views. These items could never be properly taken possession of by the aged and knowledgeable. If you already knew, then you could not be open to the unknown. Your beliefs would force it to take shape and when the power did not quite fit, it just did not work correctly.

There were thousands of faces, voices, stories, for Death was not a simple being. Death was a part of the greater existence. It was Anubis with his scales. It was The Morrigan flying over the battlefield. It was Enmesharra, Mortja, Veles, Hel, Hades, Yama, Barastyr, Tien Yan, Shinigami, and so many more. A primordial being is not meant to be easily comprehended by any being. It simply was and only aspects could be seen and understood at any point in time. Nor was it as simple as an ending.

Instead it was merely part of the cycle. There was no death without life, nor life without death. The wheel, the tower, the karmic cycle, and every thought one had on the connecting forces of existence. A mind fixated on fact would shatter under the knowledge. Only a true seeker could grasp any of it.

Now he Understood. Because Death itself could not be comprehended in its whole, sometimes a champion of sorts was needed. To interact with the world and both the living and not. Even the champion could not understand death in its entirety. Merely could be an agent working on the small part that was left in their hands. Sometimes Death worked through its chosen agent in turn, for all in some fashion were connected back to the greater whole. For Gilriant, this would be about balance.

This world was out of balance because of beings that were never meant to be here. The ones that became the dementors were warped because of that fact. They needed to be cleansed and the souls that belonged here freed from them. Fea belonging to Ea needed to be brought back to the world. Gilriant belonged more to Ea now than Earth. Which is why once his job was complete here he could take them all back with him and close the passageway for good.

That would not be the end of it.

The world of Ea was out of balance as well. The corruptor had drastically started that split when he created the crack through which the lost ones were thrust into this world. Taking them out of Ea took away from its power and beauty. Stole away some of its light and made it more vulnerable to the corruption they spread. Which admittedly might have been part of the plan. Restoring it would take more than bringing the fea of the lost ones back. It would be in spreading out that power and life again. It wasn’t the task of years, it was the task of centuries, millenia. Power couldn’t just be poured back in. That would cause as much damage as the corruption itself. Instead it must be eased in. He would have time. Time to grow into his gifts. Time to grow with his family. To gain. To live. To learn. To simply be. And for others to learn from him.

So he reached. Reached for that connection to take up the role and responsibility. He would not and did not demand this. Merely offered, which was more than many of the agents ever got. Most were chosen, and yes he was chosen for this as well. Few realized they had the option to refuse. Why he was being given that he couldn’t be sure. Simply knowing, and this not being demanded of him, made all the difference.

Was he created for this moment as many of the others were? Were the threads of fate woven together from those that were lost? For now all he could see were the threads being bound together. The greater picture, not within his grasp. Yet that felt unimportant. Whatever it was, it was, it was his choices that caused the threads to come together now.

He welcomed Death, Balance, Life, and accepted what was needed to carry out his Task. Let himself sink into it and be caught by welcoming arms. Faintly he heard “Elen síla lúmenn’ omentielvo”

Gilriant really needed to work on his language lessons.

***

Outside the circle Maglor paced, a fretting Kreacher nearby. Once Harry got a certain distance into the circle he couldn’t see him anymore. Oh the bard could certainly feel the raw power that spilled through even the protections built in there. The old ancient protections that had stood strong for millennia could not completely contain it all. The power leaked though and infused into the wards of the House. One could almost feel it drinking the power in, strengthening the building and all within it. For all this was about Death, it was also empowering life.

He lost all sense of time. Admittedly that wasn’t the most difficult thing for an elf to do. When one was long lived it could skew how you perceived such a thing. Yes, one could blink and everything had changed. Also as elves felt so deeply, it could prolong a moment. A minute could be like hours for the intensity of emotion it held. These circumstances certainly held emotions.

The young one was in the center of this circle facing something powerful and unknown, and he could not aid him. Oh he supported Gilriant making this choice, what else could he do? It was not something that the young one would turn away from. Could, possibly, but not would. Not after he laid out all his reasons to move forward. Maglor wanted to take this burden away. Wrap him up in protections and keep him safe. In time, he hoped he would be allowed to do so.

Finally the balance of light and dark started to recede. A figure emerging from the center. Too tall to be Gilriant, and their features were murky, at least until they got closer. To his shock, Maglor knew who this was. Knew the being that held his father and brothers. The one that pronounced the Doom of the Noldor. Mandos, responsible for the judgment of souls and the guardian of The Halls of the Awaiting. A feeling of dread pooling inside the bard. He knew what he was guilty of. The crimes he had committed against his kin. Yet something stronger had him holding his ground.

In his arms Mandos cradled Gilriant. There was a strange double image laid over the young one. The first and brightest, that of a young elf, smaller than the shadow it was held within. He had a lock of silver hair above his right eye. Leaf shaped ears poking through his dark hair, and skin glowing softly with the light of the Eldar. Under it was the shadow, the physical form of his young wizard self. As they grew closer the shadow grew in strength. Not enough to overpower the light, but enough to form a protection around it.

“Makalaurë Kanafinwë,” The Doomsman’s voice held an echo of it, as if the being wasn’t entirely here, or entirely just him. “I am here for but a moment, and only because I was invoked to be within this circle. Your chosen child has a role to play both here and within the song of Ea.” Maglor could barely breathe at these pronouncements, but he would not leave this spot. Not without knowing Gilriant was safe.

Maglor felt like his very mind and soul were being studied, and weighed. “The young one has his own insight on you and what you have done. I can see the words that were said about your situation. This must be taken into account.” The faintest of smiles was hinted out through the stern demeanor. “I daresay if I did not, his strong will would not cease to challenge me. I have no desire to see what chaos he might cause in my Halls.” A fissure of hope rose within the bard at the words.

“You are embodied, family, and chosen. You will guard and guide him. You will act as song and shield. While you will pass through my Halls to return to Ea, you will not be kept there. You have not died, and Elenrieano needs you.” Namo held out the young one, placing him in Maglor’s arms. “I do believe you will find his other name with time.” The bard held Gilriant close, something inside him loosening as the young one curled towards him.

“I would do this without being asked.” Maglor responded, holding the young one close.

The faint smile was still on Mandros’ face. “This, I know. Now look after him. I will be using what I have learned from him to hopefully help your father and brothers. Some of your damage has healed, theirs is slower. I wonder what they will make of this young one.” Namo turned back towards the center of the circle, his form starting to fade away.

“Thank you.” Maglor called out. Seeing the being turn his head briefly back towards him in acknowledgement before completely vanishing.

The bard was no fool, this was not an absolution of his past deeds. Judgment for that he would need to face one day. Just not yet. The knowledge that he would be permitted to stay with Gilriant took a weight off of his shoulders. Maglor would not need to fight to keep that promise he made. Fought, he certainly would have. His young one needed someone to stay with him. The others were not embodied so he knew their chances of being allowed to go with were much lower.

They would also likely raise a fuss over that. Mandos’ halls might not be so peaceful when it came time for them to pass through them.