The Wizarding Prince of Twilight

Chapter 19

Year 455 of the First Age

The Bragollach, Plunge, and Unsought Reunions

The sky was dark and the stars were nowhere to be seen. Twas not a night of twilight or starlight. The air was not bountiful with the scent of fresh rain or grass. Nay, it was wroth and plentiful with the scent of burning ash. A scent Harry/Lómion was most familiar with. The burning and scathing scent of ash was one he had known in both this life and the last. He had known of the workings of fire more times than he cared to know. He knew it when the Quidditch World Cup turned into the propogated stage for the death eaters rise to power. An event meant to bring some joy to the bystanders and innocent onlookers whom only sought some semblance of a good time in a world that was rotting from the inside out. Instead the screams and terror of the quidditch lovers became the perfectly forced thespian roles that had been cast by the dark lord. 

That incident was one of many. 

Oh it was one of so many. 

He knew fire when he escaped the burning Room of Requirement. A wonder of magic left behind by the founders and yet was burned beyond repair by the very students it was meant to house. That room was a place of safety for many seeking solace from the bigotry and cruelty that waited outside it's doors. Goodness sake it was the only place the students could truly hide from the Carrows when they turned the school into a medieval torture house. It was a guarded sanctuary from those seeking to harm. It was a place that held so many relics of magic and people long past. It was a piece of one of the only homes Harry James Potter had ever known. And then in a barrage of Fiendfyre and blind vindictiveness it was gone. His attempts to restore it going unrewarded after the battle. Even the newly redeemed Draco Malfoy shed tears after the news of its irreparable destruction came to light. 

Neville long wept.

Luna did not smile or speak for months. 

Seamus didn't joke for the longest time. 

Trelawny and McGonagall silently weeped in each other's arms.

Even Hermione was not excused from the emotional explosion it's destruction caused. The loss of the knowledge and history held within that room brought forth a rage Harry had never seen her dawn.

The Hogwarts portraits withdrawing into several years of silence after a piece of itself had been been permanently lost. 

I taught so many students in that room. 

It held the memory of patronus' flying in its vast ceilings.

It was the hope of gifted wizards and brave students wanting to stand up against the suppression the ministry was trying to press down upon the Wizarding world. 

....

It was also one of the few places I could be myself.

....Those "classes" were one of the few instances people looked at me without scorn and hate. 

So few happy memories in a youth plagued by antagonistic expectations and ideals. Truly, the last straw should have been when the courtyard of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was set ablaze by the death eaters and the "great" Dark Lord Voldemort himself. A school they themselves had attended and yet felt nothing at sending a torrent of flames to destroy it's once sacred walls. They felt nothing and would feel nothing for their souls had withered to the point they could barely be considered human. 

Insanity and hate ruling their every thought and action. 

Not once did I ever forget the wretched cackles of those foul loathsome cockroaches.

Hermione truly said it best.

May Molly Weasely rest in eternal peace for blowing up that maniac Bellatrix LeStrange. 

For all the destruction, sadness, and misery wrought by the flames of magic. It was still paultry................

.........in comparison to this. 

When little Harry Potter read the Silmarillion in the confines of his cupboard under the stairs. He could not have understood the severity of what the words he read truly harbored. His small ten year old self could not possibly fathom the level of depravity and misery the "Fires of Morgoth" truly would have unleashed upon the free peoples of middle earth. The intensity of the fires and viciousness held by the servants of Morgoth were unlike anything Harry Potter had seen in his lifetime. It was no wonder the elves could not hold against such blind hate and dark fire. For a surprise attack of such magnitude would have truly been too much for them. The book had mentioned multiple times how "Morgoth had long prepared his force in secret" or "the Ñoldor would since not know true peace." Oh how the book had prettied those words. 

Though in fairness there was error to the words he thought. 

As long as that monster Morgoth exists on the plane of Arda, there can be no true peace. 

Especially now, after....after what I saw. 

When Tolkien wrote about Morgoth's sins Harry/Lómion thought the worst of it was what was done to the souls of the first elves.

But no.

Oh no.

No, he was so wrong. 

A quote from the book emerging from the recesses of his now enhanced memory. 

"While ever the malice of his heart grew greater, and his hatred of the Ñoldor more bitter; and he desired not only to end his foes but to destroy also and defile the lands that they had taken and made fair."

That text from the Silmarillion was to him just meant to be a highlight to the anger and wrath of a psychotic Dark Lord. However, now they were so much more. In hindsight, he should have truly known better than to make light of those words. 

For fantasy and reality are two very different sides of a coin. 

After today Harry/Lómion knew that just like with Tom Riddle and Delphini Diggory, there was truly no saving the Vala once known as Melkor. For the fool had damned himself in a way that similar and yet perhaps worse to Voldemort. The truths he discovered had assured that the monster that sat in Angband was naught but a mindless creature that needed to be stopped. 

It's no wonder he looked so hideous when I saw him. 

It's a common symptom. 

But this is so much worse...

I'm sorry Manwë but your brother has truly become a monster. 

I know you held to hope but this is something else.

For all the pain you feel now.....I know those who have felt it as well. 

Oh Circe....is this even close to what Dumbledore felt when he had to fight Grindelwald.

How ironic that such a "great" wizard was murdered by another Dark Lord that supposedly shared his views but had gone subsequently insane.

No.

It was truly a miracle that Harry/Lómion was here to do something. 

For all his family's worries and cries of his "defenses" being too much. They may have been the very thing that stopped such senseless death and destruction. Ard-Galen was beyond salvation but that was a small sacrifice when compared to the endless repeated losses he had endured in both this life and the last. 

Never mind he knew fully well what that horrendous abomination would have unleashed if given even half the chance. 

That thing was an insult to all the dragons that Charlie Weasely raised and cared for even at the expense of his general wellbeing.

No this had to happen.

And oh what glee it brought him to destroy that monster's plans. 

His Slytherin side was truly hissing in pure delight at the mere thought. 

Though to be fair it'd only really count after the War of Wrath. 

Bugger

It's as the saying goes.

Guess all good things come to those who wait.

Too bad I was never known for my patience.

But beyond all that. 

He could never thank Eru enough for their help. 

Never

Not even with all the prayers and thanks he could give, would it ever do justice to the aid they'd given. 

Honestly, he was starting to think this deity was spoiling him a bit. 

He truly didn't know if he deserved all this aid. 

And to whoever saw that light show.....probably everyone🤦.

This'll be the height of all my stunts for sure. 

Guess I shouldn't expect any gag orders for this mad feat.

Nope.

Harry Potter you've truly outdone yourself this time. 

Just bloody brilliant you flashy Gryffindor showcase.

But that's beside the point given his current situation. 

I don't even know where my broom went and I doubt I'll be awake for much longer.

Well at least I know I didn't break anything. 

That would have really been a problem. 

Though for all his complaints he'd never regret his actions. His family would say otherwise or maybe they would even plead with him to stop (They have🙄). A strange thought to have even now given all the pressures he'd been subjected to by the adults in his past life. This life and the last were such a staggering contrast that Harry/Lómion sometimes wondered if he had just dreamed this life and would soon wake up to the reality of his old home. 

However such thoughts were fruitless given his current position. 

He could not move his body. 

He felt so heavy and so very tired.

His consciousness was fading fast.

He was even pretty sure he'd scratched his head in the fall and was bleeding a bit.

Magic once again saving him but not keeping him from hitting the branches in the plummet. 

He knew he landed somewhere near Minas Tirith but his brain was too muddled to think.

If he had one regret it was that his family would definetly worry about him. 

They'd probably search for him and think something happened to him. 

Though with any luck nothing would but you could never tell with his horrid luck. 

Maybe if I'm lucky Prongs will make it back after he's done having fun. 

Oh bugger I don't think I can stay awake anymore. 

I'll just.....close....my eyes.....for a few.....min.....

Oh....Prongs there....you....

But he would think no more for the profound magic drain had finally caught up with him. 

His body going completely slack as he laid on the grass beneath him.

Completely oblivious to the approaching presence of his patronus that was no longer alone.

For there looming over Harry/Lómion's unconscious form and standing at the side of his patronus was a being who's gaze now bore into him with an intensity so profound one would think..........

.............

(454 of the First Age, One year before the Dagor Bragollach)

Things had been tense lately. He was sitting in his tent and was watching the flames dance in the hearth of the fireplace. The reason for this being that he was currently on his routine trips with his Uncles Maedhros, Celegorm, Fingon, and haru. The tent being pitched south towards Dor-lómin. 

Twas deftly named indeed. 

Whoever called it the "Land of Echoes" certainly got their naming right. 

For this land was a neverending vast spread of rising rock walls and high ravines. This was also supposedly the place that housed the Gate of the Noldor and the Cirith Ninniach. The rainbow cleft that would guide Tuor to the sea and to the abandoned city of Vinyamar. 

Also supposedly the place where he'd be led by pretty swans and have a meeting with a bloody sea demi-god.

That sounds too much like something out of a book.

....oh😐

A path he had actually taken a walk through just a few days ago with his present family members. It was truly beautiful and the sight was just breathtaking. The ever vast waterfalls and sparkling waters sent such a wave of peace through his soul that Harry/Lómion was severely tempted to jump into the undoubtedly cool waters of the river before him. 

Well he would have, if not for the exuberant presence of a certain sea Vala Or presumably their protections.

I'll eat my hair before I believe he somehow wasn't there (pfft maybe🤭).

Ugh, my love of the sea just won't vanish overnight 👀.

But it's weird....that presence felt quite profound and excited???

Oh well🤷.

A problem for another time. 

Everything had been going fine during the trip. His uncles were smiling and Fingon had even taken to splashing some water on him as he rested near the banks. Maedhros just soaking up the sunshine and skipping stones with his right hand. A small smile gracing his face at the domestically pleasant atmosphere. Even Celegorm was just napping by the river while using Huan as a pillow. If Harry/Lómion were being honest, this was one of the few instances he'd ever seen his uncles so relaxed. 

They'd been very twitchy since the whole barrier fiasco (Hmm you don't say👀). It took three years for them to actually accept the fact that there were actually no orcs, trolls, goblins, or otherwise foul creatures in the area. 

Thou of course that didn't count for bandits🤷.

Unless they tried to get into the castle, than the wards would just make them melt.

.....oh dear.....

Now that I think about it.....

That could actually could be considered quite gruesome (Now you realize that!🤨).

Okay...that's definitely making me nauseous. 

Though I'd take a dog fight over bloody politics any day!

To the Vale with the "smile and wave" philosophy. 

If I ever have to sit at a political dinner with the former ministers again I will happily go swimming with a Kelpie. 

Hmmm I wonder if Newt would have let me play with his🤔

That aside, his whole family had completely lost it on him. He'd been condemned to taking the stance of shame for a year following the incident. Said position including him kneeling on the floor, on a cushion, with his arms held up and facing a corner. 

Yes you heard that right. 

Of all the detentions and embarrassing moments in his life. 

Not including him asking Cho to the Yule ball.😓

Though to be fair Ron's manner of asking Fleur was well....pretty bad.

Sorry Ron but I don't think screaming the request and fleeing worked in your favor mate.

But I'm hardly in a position to talk.

He had never been punished with something like that. It was by far the most humiliating thing he'd ever been subjected to given he was mentally a near millenia old. Of course such logistics had not spared his cousin from his family's wrath. He did not even want to remember how purple faced Curufin looked when he was yelling at them. Though Harry/Lómion didn't know if you could really call it yelling given it looked like Curufin was about to have a panic attack (If he didn't already😅). 

Of course they didn't know his mental age nor would for a while.

Aye Morgana's mercy, poor Erestor actually broke his nose during that whole curfuffle. Luckily someone found him not long after he'd been knocked out from running into the wall. He did fix it with a quick "episkey" but his teacher hadn't taken that well given he'd been overexcited from the whole magic barrier thing. His teacher was so out of it that he'd actually chased Harry/Lómion all around the twins castle and started shouting so loud about his "lack of common sense" that he was sure the Valar or even Fëanor would have heard him (Oh they did🤣). It finally ended when his teacher once again passed out and woke up with no recollection of what he'd done. An incident his Uncle Maglor forever teased Erestor for.

Once I'm done with this whole dog's dinner of a battle. 

I'm taking a decade to relax before I have to break into.....cough....eh hemm....visit. 

Yes😇.

Before I have to make an unannounced visit to Doriath. 

Circe save me when they find out about it. 

But I'll definitely take another century of cleaning the stables than having to clean the girl's bathrooms ever again. 

Sorry Myrtle, but there is a reason hardly ANYONE ever used the bathrooms you haunted.

......oooof chills.

Though for all his complaints, deep down he really was surprised with how....controlled they took it. He'll never admit it, but somewhere deep in the darkest depths of his fëa he feared they might hate him. For just a split second he was worried that this bout of magic might be the last straw for them. Of course, he would once again be proven wrong when other than familial ranting he had more than once overheard his families worries over his unexplainable "hero complex." They just couldn't understand why he felt so responsible for their well being when it should have been the other way around. He couldn't really answer that, not yet at least. But when Harry/Lómion thought about it, he supposed he'd always been this way. Even before he got his memories back. His near perfect elf memory making him think back to the times he'd help his nana clean the kitchen after a meal rather than go play. He'd recall the instances where his mother would mope in bed while his Ada was away and he'd take that as an okay to cuddle with her in an attempt to cheer her up. The attempt always working seeing as she'd giggle and cuddle him close. There was even one time when he made a handmade sword belt for his father after he noticed Eöl was having a bad day. His father had donned one of his rare smiles and affectionately patted his head. Of course this was all before he turned 50 and that famous argument between them had ruined everything. Heck, there were even times he had helped the servants carry some things that seemed too heavy for them. His maiaran heritage including a side order of slightly enhanced physical strength.

A total anomlay to his mental facets considering his previous life's circumstances.

Yeah no. 

For all the magical power he had, there was one serious weakness Harry Potter possessed. 

One that was luckily able to stay hidden in the magic dependant Wizarding world. 

Yes. 

For all the power Harry Potter wielded, his childhood had in fact left him substantially weak in the physical sense. 

Had Dudley ever asked him to go to the gym, there was no way he could have agreed. The lack of proper nutrition in his childhood had left him utterly incapable of physically straining himself for prolonged periods. Never mind his obviously stunted growth.

No offense to me, but the "savior" of the Wizarding World being 5 ft and 5 inches (1.65 cm) tall doesn't exactly scream intimidating.

It was only after the war that he'd dared to tell Hermione and Ron. Originally he never planned to but Hermione's sharp intuition immediately caught notice of how short breathed he was after a sprint. Her parents may have been dentists but regardless they were physicians. And when a physician's daughter happens to see someone neglecting their health. What do they do?

Well...

Naturally she lost it and dragged his happy keester to the nearest doctor. Said Doctor prescribing him endless vitamins and self care regiments for managing his condition. Nobody else knew of his ailment aside from Ginny who had been there with him when he'd finally broken down about how he hated that he had to live with it. An ailment he would have never had to deal with had he never been sent to the Dursley's in the first place. A cockamamie idea that was orchestrated by none other than the "brilliant" Albus Dumbledore. 🙄

Despite all the time that's passed. 

I may truly never forgive him for that. 

...sigh.

I suppose it'd be more accurate to say I'd forgive but never forget.

Perhaps he was thinking about all this given what he knew was coming. If he didn't know any better he'd say this was the same peace he'd had before the chaos that erupted in his fourth year of Hogwarts. The moment Cedric Diggory was murdered right before his eyes. Harry knew that his life would not be peaceful for a VERY long time. 

....Not that it was very peaceful even before that.

Still I'd take fighting the Basilisk over dealing with the ministry and that daft fool Cornelius *Sludge any day!

All this happiness and joy before him would evaporate if he didn't deal with what was to come. 

But he wanted this. He wanted this peace and quiet. He wanted these happy times to stay a constant factor of his life. Oh how he wanted that. But he knew that just couldn't happen without dealing with everything that was to come. 

The years without orcs or Morgoth's ilk had been nice indeed but most certainly not a period of idleness. The forces of Ard-Galen had been withdrawn four years ago and replaced with Harry/Lómion's elaborate illusions. 

His face becoming more of familiar presence around his haru's palace. It took about a month to cast the illusions. Mostly on account of the fact he had to know the soldiers routines to get it to work. It was one thing to cast a simple illusion but it was another to create one that would disappear and be replaced by another that mimicked the original owner's habits to a near perfect synchronicity. 

Luckily the spell was a success and in all that time no one had called him "prince" or any of the like. Though he was not blind to the side glances and very hushed whispers some of Fingolfin's seconds seemed to give him whenever they saw him with his haru or Fingon. Húriel also seemed to look at him sometimes with a strange look on her face. It was never anything malicious but it was as if she was trying to peace together a confusing puzzle. His grandfather had told him that she was once a marchwarden of Doriath but had ceded her position to none other than Beleg Cúthalion after she became despondent with Thingol's management of the realm following the creation of the Girdle.

As for Elvion and Estelon well they constantly reminded him of Bill and Percy Weasely. One was laid back and chill while the other was stiff but had a hidden kindness. There was one instance where Lómion feigned sleep as a rabbit and overheard his haru and Elvion talking about why a "prince" of such esteem wasn't being acknowledged.

I wasn't trying to eavesdrop 👀 (Sure you weren't😏)

Rabbit's just have exceptionally good hearing.

Elvion went on and on about how he knew Fingolfin clearly loved him but was keeping his existence hidden. His grandfather had only sighed and explained it was what Harry/Lómion wanted. A small crack of his closed obsidian rabbit eyes showed that Elvion had momentarily looked at him in concern. 

Of course said expression would never be seen when he was awake. Given he'd more than once scared the blue eyed ner out of his wits. Either way that wasn't the first time it happened. Said topic kept coming up everytime he sat in on one of his grandfather's council meetings as a rabbit and overheard the topic come up when most of the council was dismissed. 

Seems I'll have to get Thingol out of Beleriand ASAP.

Though one headache at a time. 

Speaking of his grandfather, said elf was currently rested at the base of a tree while gazing on at the peaceful seen before him with a strange look in his eyes. It certainly wasn't a look of anger but one that just screamed he couldn't believe what was happening before him. Though at the same time Harry/Lómion could tell he also loved what he was seeing. 

Makes sense considering all the barmy events that happened between him and his brother. 

But I know there's something else. 

And indeed there was for when they returned to his tent and he sat before the fire. Fingolfin had in fact come to join him. His other uncle's already fast asleep in their comfortable beds. 

He was sitting at the foot of the couch by the fire. His haru wasn't wearing any of his usual armor or regular adornments. His hair was just out with no braids and he was wearing regular nightclothes. Harry/Lómion didn't often see his grandfather like this but it felt refreshing to see him like this. Their faces may be similar but their eyes couldn't have been more different. The older having an almost divine set of silver blue eyes that faintly glowed with the light of the two trees while the younger had a set of dark orbs that were almost the color of raven's wing. 

The moment Fingolfin sat next to him by the fire Harry/Lómion immediately felt his haru's fëa reach for his. 

He happily obliged and practically purred at the attention. 

His physical hröa just leaning into Fingolfin's shoulder as the elder elf wrapped his arm around him in a one-arm hug. 

"Twas quite a nice day today" said his haru with a soft happiness coating his words.

"Indeed it was. I always love being by the water and quiet days are such a gem" he said as he snuggled into his haru's side. The action becoming more familiar to him.

"Oh? I don't suppose my grandson is a sea elf? Shall I expect to see you building boats soon?" said his haru as he started combing his hand through Harry/Lómion's now long hair in a playful manner. 

"Haha no. I've never been one for boating. I just like to look at the water and relax by it. The smell and sound are soothing to the soul. Did you enjoy not having chancellors nag and whine for once?" he said in a serene tone with a bit of jest at the last part. Fingolfin just let out a rare snort. 

"Oh yes. Twas quite nice to not hear their squawking for once......Lómion" said his grandfather with fondness but than a sullenness. Harry/Lómion's head now turning to look his haru in the eye. 

"Lómion I know you've warned us of what's coming and we have not been idle but please" his haru took a deep breathe before continuing. His hand now coming up to rest on his cheek. 

"Please my child; please can you stay out of the fight?" said Fingolfin with a deep pleading in his voice. His silver blue eyes boring into his with naught but a deep love and fear Harry Potter had never seen and one Maeglin Lómion had not seen since he was a child. Honestly, if not for his elvish childhood he would not have known or understood it at all.

For the eyes gazing at him were one's that genuinely feared for his safety. 

Not out of duty.

Not out of obligation. 

Not in fear of losing an asset.

Not in fear of losing a friend.

No.

The eyes that gazed at him were one's filled with the deep seated fear of losing their family. 

For all the power he'd shown, Fingolfin was still genuinely terrified of losing his grandson. 

The mere idea of losing him sending waves of grief through their familial bond. 

Externally Harry/Lómion only rapidly blinked but inside his fëa was stirring in a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions. The fight to keep them under control proving more difficult than fighting Voldemort. For the reason of such a reaction was simple but tragic.

Because not once in his last life had ANYONE ever asked him to stay out of a fight. 

At least not for the reasons he so constantly wished for. 

Not once did anyone ask Harry Potter to stay out of a fight because they truly loved him.

Of course Ron and Hermione had constantly told him not to fight alone, but that was just it.

Everyone always expected him TO fight regardless. 

Everyone always fought WITH him because they believed he could handle it.

Everyone always PROVIDED AID in his fights because they assumed he could get through with it. 

Even Remus and Sirius had supported him joining the order when realistically he shouldn't have had anything to do with it on account of the fact he was only 16. A rash decision by a hot headed and ill informed whelp.

The only one who even remotely showed such defensiveness was Molly Weasely but he always carried a deep guilt for wanting her affection after Fred died. He did not dare ask for it or expect it, especially after her son died because of a war instigated by his mere existence. 

His parents had long died and he could never expect such affection from his relatives. 

And even when he had children and married Ginny it was HIM that was expected to protect his children. 

Hermione and Ron were his heart family and best friends and they all would have died for each other. He loved them and they cared for each other.

However, it just wasn't the same. 

He never had grandparents, such a thing was totally foreign. He didn't have parents before and only had them now for a short time. 

He didn't know how to process this. 

It felt like a long abandoned dam had decided to suddenly burst its gates.

He was shedding silent tears, all the while his haru had pulled him to his chest. His head now tucked under his grandfather's chin as the elder elf tried to shush him and calm his fëa.

Oh..my fëa.

If there was one blessing to being an elf, it was that words needn't be spoken to convey hidden or complicated feelings. 

For just a brief moment Lómion allowed himself a respite of true honesty with the first person to ever fulfill his long silent wish. 

For his grandfather Fingolfin he opened his heart and shared with him the feelings of what his words made him feel. Through their connected fëa's, he showed the older elf that no one had ever said such things to him. In that hour Maeglin Lómion, once the societally forced famous wizard Harry Potter, bared a piece of his older soul to his maternal family. He had no doubt his grandfather would be confused when he saw how truly old his soul was but for the first time he knew Fingolfin wouldn't care. He needed this. Eru told him to trust them and now he was going to heed the advice. 

The shock, sadness, slight horror, momentary rage, and physical gasp he heard Fingolfin release told him quite a bit. Fingolfin didn't like it one bit but explanations would have to wait. For now he just hugged his haru back and silently relished the feeling of finally being able to tell someone what he hadn't told anyone. 

They did not speak a word following the revelation. The only sound in the modern living room being not but the crackling of the fire.

They did not speak as they fell asleep that night. His haru clinging onto his grandchild as though for dear life. 

Nor would they speak the following day on the ride back to Barad Eithel. 

The concerned glances of his Fëanorian uncles and Fingon were already telling that they had been aware of their conversation last night. 

They did not speak but they all understood one thing. 

Regardless of their fears Harry/Lómion would still fight in the battle that would soon be upon them.

(454 of thr First Age, four months before the Dagor Bragollach)

If there had been one change since the silent conversation that night it was that each of his uncles had asked him to not participate in the upcoming battle at least once. He had almost given in when Maglor had broken down into tears and practically begged him not to do it but he had to refuse even if it hurt his own heart. It certainly did not help that Maglor had openly confessed to loving him like a son, a feeling Lómion shared as well given he loved Maglor as much as he loved Sirius. The elf was truly a second father in his heart. Now as for Celegorm, him and the third born had actually almost gotten into a screaming match. The silver haired hunter went on and on about how his mother wouldn't have wanted this but his efforts would still fail. Harry/Lómion was a Gryffindor, and if there was one thing Gryffindor's were known for it was their obscene bravery and stubbornness. 

No I am not counting the stubbornness from the House of Finwë.

That's just dumb stubbornness (Sure🙄).

Though in the end Celegorm finally just hugged him and tearfully pleaded with him not to do it. The fair silver haired hunter practically broke down at the mention of his failure to protect his mother and emphasized how he would go mad if something happened to him. Harry/Lómion spent the rest of that afternoon trying to calm his most volatile uncle. His heart aching that his actions were causing them to go through this. Curufin had certainly been no better. 

Oh but I have to credit how he went about it.

Brilliant schemer indeed.

Even if he was being completely honest!

Rather than shouting or tearing up the raven haired Fëanor look alike had confided in him about how much he regretted bringing Tyelpe to Endore. Under the light of the stars and in the silence of the night the elf who would have been known as the cruelest schemer in all of middle earth had quietly teared up when he looked him in the eye and gently held his face. The words he spoke sending an echo to a memory long past. 

"You look like your mother you know" said the the father of his favorite cousin. The crickets being the only other witnesses to their conversation. Harry/Lómion just sitting next to him as they rested in the forest right outside the castle of Himlad. The total absence of orcs allowing for such a respite. 

"Pardon?" 

"You look like your mother little forgemaster. Not just in appearance but also in spirit. She never backed down from a fight and would have defied anyone that tried to stop her" said Curufin as he gently pressed their foreheads together in a familial manner. The same manner he had seen the older elf do with Tyelpe. 

I've always ever been told I look like my father and.....

That I had my mother's eyes...

Lovely Lily...

"You know you're the first one to really say that" he said with shy happiness as he soaked up the affection and joy of someone comparing him to his parents in a kind way. Curufin letting out a snort and pulling their foreheads back to look at him again. A fond smile on his face. 

"Oh? I would have thought it obvious given you two are practically twins when it comes to causing unintentional chaos. Though to be fair she mostly did it on purpose. Besides, were you aware your noses both twitch when you smile?" said the silver eyed elf with a tone of mischief and a cunning quirk of his brow. His ears turning near red at the mention of chaos. 

"I did say I was sorry about all that and I actually didn't. Honestly, I've only ever been told I look like my father but I'm sure you're aware, it wasn't out of fond remembrance" he said with a neutral tone but did not miss when Curufin muttered a quiet curse in Kuzdhul. Probably thinking that Harry/Lómion wouldn't understand it but in fact did. 

Well that was certainly a colorful word. 

Funny how I haven't mentioned I can actually speak the language to them yet.

Sweet Circe, just how dense have I become? (About the same?😅)

First the Silmarills and now this. 

What's next I forget to lock up the snapping cabbages? 👀

"I really will never understand Turukáno. Tis true you have your father's eyes and gift for the forge. However, who you choose to be is what matters. I was given the same father name as my Atar but not once did he ever want me to be a copy of him. At one point I even overheard him speaking to amme about how he almost regretted doing that. But enough about all that. I didn't ask you to sit out here with me child just to look back on old memories" said Curufin with thoughtful remembrance and the wisdom of a parent. 

Would that Snape could have not seen James when he looked at me. 

Would that he had just not held to anger so tightly, especially for a man that was long dead. 

Though what James did to him was just truly horrible. 

He may have seen my mother in me and helped me from the shadows but there were always times I couldn't separate the cruel from the kind in both his and my memories. 

Naming my son after him was the greatest act of respect I could give. 

I'll won't regret it but many days I wished he had lived so we could have maybe talked it all out. 

He didn't deserve to die at the hands of a maniac and his vile horcrux infected serpent. 

"Maeglin I know we have not known each other for long"

I'd say nearly 30 years is quite a while but alright 🤨.

The sense of time for elves is still something I need to get used to. 

Oh bother, I think I know where this isgoing😓.

"But make no mistake that I care for you as much as I care for Tyelpe. If there is one thing I have learned about you it is that you seem to want to take on all the responsibility yourself"

My friends said the same thing.

"Just because you have power does not mean the weight of the world must be placed upon your shoulders. If anything there should be those willing to take the burden when it is clear they are just a child. Nobody should ever push you into doing something you don't understand or want to do" 

Oh if Albus had just possessed that thought process. 

'Harry is our only hope' 

Those words always endlessly repeated in my past life.

'Boy who lived' 'Boy who lies' 'Defeater of the Dark Lord' 'Our savior'

A defeater and savior who was a one year old infant that lost his parents because of a stupid prophecy that wasn't even fully true.

Not once did anyone ever acknowledge it was my mother's love that saved me aside from a handful of people.

....Bollocks...why am I getting upset about that now...

"Lómion I don't know who or what made you think you have to bear all this. But know that you don't. We have been fighting this war for several centuries"

Yes and you would have lost until the Valar oh so conveniently showed up.

Though things partly went to shambles because of their blasted bad luck curse 🤬.

"We know how to hold our own. Your defenses and armor are already more than anyone could have dreamed or asked for. I would not have asked this of you nor would I have expected it. You are a child and deserve to be happy"

...................

.......I..

"And if you really want to look at it from a reasonable perspective. Maeglin your armor may very well be worth more than all the mithril and gold in the rumored kingdom of Khazad-dûm. If someone ever hears you gave all this to us for free they'll probably die of shock"

...hmm that might be a bit of stretch. 

But pretty close🤔.

That one mithril shirt Thorin gives Blibo is supposedly worth the Shire...or will. 

"You have done enough Maeglin. So please, please child. Please don't go out there. Tyelpe won't be out there either. I've tasked him with managing the fortress and distributing the siege supplies should the battle take a while. Tis not because I don't have faith in my son but because I cannot bear the idea of anything happening to him or you! Power and experience do not alleviate a parent's worries Maeglin. If your mother knew about what you were planning to do she'd no doubt have done everything she could to stop you" 

Oh she most certainly would have and that's what worries me. 

Look what happened when she tried to protect me and all because I couldn't protect myself.

Merlin's beard why am I only hearing all this now🤦.

I've lived like this for over 600 years, it's not as if I can just reprogram myself.

Besides, with this world being how it is, something is just bound to go looney.

But despite all his reservations a part of him wanted to agree. Just once he wanted to be the child that was protected by the adults. He may have made light of the battle to come in some passing conversations, but now that the axe was about to drop the profound seriousness of the situation would continue to grow heavier. Yes, his protections may be enough. His armour may keep people from dying. Heck, his wards and supplies may even keep them going for years to come. 

But there was one word in those sentences that plagued him like his old scar. 

May

Perhaps

Possibly

Probably

Most likely

All words of chance that have always backfired and caused him endless grief when it all went to the pits. 

Sirius was supposed to be a powerful wizard but died because of a stupid trip to the Department of Mysteries based on an ill perceived mental attack.

Remus and Tonks were supposed to raise their newborn son Teddy in peace and look what happened. 

Fred and George were an inseparable pair that should have always been together but were sundered. 

He was supposed to have a childhood or a regular school life but that blew up for so many countless reasons. 

He was supposed to be a house Prefect for his fifith year of school but wasn't because of misplaced good intentions that only ended in misery. 

He was supposed to only have a dark lord to deal with but instead had to deal with a xenophobic and pathetic excuse of a ministry that wanted to deny reality until it all blew up.

Yes, it was truly the height of wisdom to turn the whole Wizarding World against a 15 year old boy just because he said the dark lord was back.

Cedric Diggory was murdered right before my eyes and they have the gall to claim it was an 'accident.'

Bloody foul daft gits!

His son and children were supposed to have regular school years but didn't because of Delphini killing Craig Bowker Jr right in front of his son for the pettiest of reasons. 

Bloody hell, he was supposed to be dead and stay that way but look at him now!

Everyone always assumes but it never turns out the way you intend. 

It always goes wrong for one reason or another.

And it's always those I love that pay for it. 

But not now, not this time.

I just can't and I won't. 

I can't risk it. 

Thus his resolve was set and his decision made. He spoke no words to Curufin but the sad blank stare he gave the father of his cousin was all the answer the older elf needed. A sad sigh escaping the older elf as he wrapped an arm around Harry/Lómion's shoulder. The night sky and crickets still the only ones witness to the eve's events. 

Things didn't get much better from there. If anything they got more tense as Tyelpe and the twins had made their frustrations with him visibly known two weeks following his conversation with Curufin. Tyelpe was especially upset about the whole thing and didn't speak to him for a few weeks. Though for all Tyelpe's anger it did not stem from jealousy, only worry. An odd thing to be sure given Petunia was always jealous of his mother's magic. An ugly jealousy that can rot the soul and heart if not swiftly pruned. 

But then again Petunia was always unreasonable in every sense. 

Though Vernon was just a ludicrous boar.

She wanted something so desperately yet failed to see what was around her. 

How foolish of her to think that their actions could just "knock the freakishness" out of me. 

Did that woman seriously never think there were times I wished I wasn't a wizard. 

Magic and science are two sides of a coin, each has a benefit that the other doesn't.

The question is how you utilize it. 

It was actions like theirs that instigated the creation of the "Statute of secrecy."

Never mind how such foolish behavior led to even modern day wizards viewing muggles as mindless barbaric animals 😮‍💨.

Funny how the day I said 'I love magic' turned into the day the accursed death eaters attacked the quidditch world cup and forever tarnished such a beautiful memory. 

It's even more disturbing to think a Dementor attack is what changed Dudley for the better. 

For all his faults I do miss him a bit. 

At least we made amends unlike my mom and Petunia. 

Truly a tragic existence. 

What's the point of leaving regrets if you can help it. 

It just causes so much pain in the end.

There was even one instance when Tyelpe cornered and outright yelled at him to stop pushing himself. His cousin went on and on about how he was practically a babe and would never recover if something happened to him.

"I do not finally have some semblance of a family again just to see it destroyed! I don't care if we're distantly related, you are practically a little brother to me and I refuse to lose you! Can't you just stay!" 

Those words had been spoken with such intensity Harry/Lómion almost flinched from the weight of them. He'd never had a cousin in his previous or current life that said such things. Given what he knew of the original Maeglin's fate, such words would have been a pipe dream from the toxic cousin he had severed from his soul. 

Oh but the conversation with his twin uncles had certainly been antsy.

It was near the middle of autumn that he decided to make a quick trip to Amrod and Amras' territories. It was mostly for the purpose of checking up on the move ins from Dorthonion and the status of the ongoing relief supplies they had been storing up. And as luck would have it, his Uncle Caranthir happened to be there as well. He'd really only spent five days there but it was on the night before he was set to leave that they all had a conversation in the twins personal quarters. 

Brilliant, I know what this is gonna be about😮‍💨.

"Lómion we know everyone's talked to you about this but I suppose it's my turn. Just why do you think you need to do this? You've organized relief supplies, crafted new farming equipment, fostered the birth of never seen healing practices, enchanted the daylights out of our homes, forged amazing weapons, and even created new foods of all things. Just what is it you are afraid of?" said his Uncle Caranthir in the tone of a strategist trying to understand a complicated puzzle. Amrod and Amras gazing at him in anticipation. Their silver eyes boring into him with a worried intensity. 

Oh I don't know, perhaps because it's my wretched luck we're talking about. 

Or maybe it's because all plans in my past and current life had a tendency to go completely looney from the smallest or most outrageous things. 

Yes, maybe it has something to do with all that🙄.

Well that's what he would have said, had they known even an inkling of what his past life pertained. However, he decided to opt for the reason that would make sense given what he knew about the book and Arda's history.

"Morgoth and his forces don't know about me. That monster is convinced the attack is going to be a surprise. Once they become aware of the barrier their forces won't step inside or will do everything to try and destroy it. That window of confusion will be paramount to crippling them. Yes, you have the wards on the castles but that is a last ditch defense" he said and saw how Caranthir gave him an incredulous look. A look that clearly said "the death wards are last ditch?🤨"

"Ideally, I want everyone to stay in the barrier for as long as possible until I take out the dragon. Killing all the orcs and a few balrogs would be quite the bonus, but I'm keeping my goals reasonable" he said and did not miss the plum sucked gazes of his uncles when he mentioned killing balrogs as "reasonable."

You all don't even know half of what I've done. (Oh no, no they don't🤦).

"...You...you do realize that by eldar rules and law we could forbid you from leaving. Our rules and customs clearly forbid the majority of elves your age from engaging in battle" stammered Amrod in an attempt to stop his eye from twitching. 

You certainly could but I'd just get out (We know🙄).

"He's right you know. Nelyo did not let us engage in battle until well after we were given our own lands. We were well past our fifth century before we saw any real battle. Tyelpe may be nearing a thousand and yes he's seen battle but that was because uncontrollable exceptions had to be made" said Amras as he tried to calm down his rapid heartbeat. 

Harry/Lómion just blinked at them. 

Laws? Rules? Have you met me? (Indeed😅)

What are these rules you speak of? (Pfft🤭)

I broke into the biggest bank in England, stole from said bank, wrecked it, rode out on a dragon, and still got away with it (What a thing to tell the kids🤣).

I find rules are just 'helpful suggestions' (Save us 🙄).

"Lómion you are a genius smith and financial manager" 

You wouldn't be saying that if you knew I broke a bank (🤣).

"I'm sure we can be reasonable here"

Lucius Malfoy said the same thing and yet I gave him his. 

"There's no reason you need to do this. I still can't fathom how you say you've dealt with dragons when Glaurung is supposed to be the first"

I was forced to kill one when I was 14 in a barbaric and sick tournament because a dark lord wanted to get my blood for an evil ritual. 

How he thought I wouldn't die during that clusterfuck, I have no idea.

Than again at the time he was insane and looked like a wiggly voodoo doll, so there's that.

Then I had to ride a fully grown Ironbelly right out of a bank when I was 18.

Said dragon that was supposed to be all that was needed to guard the most important vaults in all of Britain.

The Goblins hated me for quite awhile after that (Oh they did😬).

I believe they raised the standard dragon guard to 20 following that incident. 😑

No, I was not dumb enough to accept their invitation to 'test out' their new security system once they did that. 

Oh and let's not forget sweet little Norbert, the Norwegian Richback that hatched at Hagrid's place when I was 11.

Probably the only dragon that hasn't tried to kill me thus far.

Why Charlie Weasely adored those overgrown flamethrowers I'll never know.

Of course he couldn't really say that so he just stared at his Uncle for a moment before giving a small answer. 

"I have experience but I certainly didn't look for it" he said and didn't dare look at their questioning gazes when he said that. 

Well....mostly. 👀

"I don't even know where to begin with that. But either way what do you think will happen when this is over. Do you truly think Morgoth is not going to notice his army being decimated and the barrier supposedly killing his balrogs. He'll become aware of you Maeglin without question if you do this" said Amrod as he started getting frustrated. 

He won't if what I've got planned works. 

It's certainly mental but what haven't I done that was considered such as well. 

"Be honest with us Maeglin. What are you so afraid of that you are going to such lengths?" said Amras as he tried to dawn a patient tone. His silver eyes now looking at him with worry. But when Harry/Lómion saw them and the twin's vibrant red hair he recalled only one thing. 

Weeping students in the Great Hall of the once sacred school of Hogwarts.

Bodies being covered by ripped up cloths.

Lifeless eyes gazing into nothing. 

Young lives snuffed out before they had a chance to truly live. 

The tears and cries of a woman he wanted to consider a second mother. 

The surviving twin clinging to his heart brother Ron in sheer grief. 

The other that was lost laying on the stretcher with his eyes closed, head bleeding, and no breath leaving his body. 

The two pranksters and once only source of laughs in the withering final years of his time at the school he once considered home were no more. 

One survived and the other didn't. 

Two halves of a soul now sundered until the other rejoined them.

Two red-haired twins eternally separated and their family left to mourn the hole the one left behind. 

It was his fault.

"...aeg"

It was all his fault. 

"...Maeglin.."

I'm so sorry.

"MAEGLIN!"

He was suddenly snapped out of the memory from Caranthir yelling his name. His focus landing on how close the elf actually was. So close in fact that the dark haired ner was practically in his face and was clinging onto his shoulders as though he had been shaking him. Amrod and Amras now looking at him with intense worry. 

Though they would not get a chance to speak as he answered Amras' question, and what he said would truly frighten them all. With a vacant expression and steady voice he said. 

"I'm scared of one of you being forced to survive without the other"

As soon as the words left his mouth Amras blinked several times. His face looking like he'd been struck. His reaction clearly telling of how such a scenario had never crossed his mind. Both of them really as the twins were now clearly sporting pale expressions. A deep fear now lurking its way into their bones. 

That was all he could take as he freed himself from Caranthir's grip and hastily exited their chambers. 

He flew back that night. 

There was no way he could face them after saying such a thing. 

Though his conversation with the eldest redhead a week later in Himring would certainly alleviate some of his worries. 

His purpose for the meeting being to finalize their strategic planning for the battle that would soon be upon them. Especially considering Harry/Lómion could feel more and more orcs crossing the memory and imperious based wards he had put up around the exits of Angband. A piece of information that seemed to unsettle the eldest Fëanorian.

"So their forces are gathering?" said Maedhros with clear apprehension.

"Yes, I can feel them crossing the wards. We'll have almost three months at this point. Have all the crops been harvested and stored?" he said in the tone of one familiar with war strategy. Maedhros giving him an unseen calculating look. 

"Yes, Moryo has confirmed that the last of the potatoes and grain have been stored. We didn't manage to grow as much rice as we would have liked but it will be enough to last awhile should it be needed. We've also sent several carts to Estolad for the incoming refugees. The House of Bëor still refused to leave their ancestral lands despite the offers we made. Lord Barahir's son seemed espcially vehement on staying" said Maedhros as he looked at his heart nephew in thoughtfulness. 

Well I knew they wouldn't but figured I'd try at least. 

Hmmm so Beren does have a stubborn streak.

Makes sense given he essentuially tells Thingol to sod off.

Well it would have been perfect if he didn't end up screwing over everyone else in the process. 

Bugger..

He did not see Maedhros gazing at Harry/Lómion's pondering expression when a certain name was brought up. 

"They're not angry at you Maeglin" 

That startled Harry/Lómion out of his thoughts. 

"Pardon?"

"The twins and Moryo are not angry with you Lómion. Tyelpe even asked me to tell you that he isn't angry with you either. They're all just worried for you. Had I any right, I would tell you to stay out of this battle as well" said Maedhros as a sad and sympathizing expression crossed his now clear face. 

"Any right?" he said in true curiosity. Though he had a feeling he knew what his eldest uncle was talking about. The redhead now moving to sit next to him on the couch. The tallest of his uncle's now patting his head.

"I'm sure you're aware I was foolish enough to meet with Morgoth for a treaty. I need not say how that turned out" said Maedhros as the now finally faded memory crossed his mind. The pain finally coming to peace from the medicines he'd administered.

He may be healed but there's no doubt this isn't easy for him to talk about.

He's truly amazing. 

"Yes, but I do know the major reason you did so was because of the pull from your oath. That ugly skulkor knew one of you would come because of it. He played on that, it wasn't all your fault" he said and saw Maedhros quirk a brow at him before letting out a humorless snort. Maedhros' gaze now locking onto his as he spoke with a foreboding. 

"Twad be nice if that were the only reason little one" 

?

Huh?

"What do you mean?"

"Lómion I did not go just because of the oath. Yes, it was part of it but there was more. I went because I was the eldest. I was the crown prince and we had just lost atar. I was prepped for a role I hoped I would never have to bear. In the blink of an eye a role I never wanted was thrust upon me and I was given no choice but to accept it. I did not want those I loved to come to harm so I took the risk" he said and was slightly startled when he saw Harry/Lómion's blank expression. Though in hindsight it wouldn't be strange given the youth before him had been thrust into similar circumstances. However, said differences were still staggering. 

How did I not think of that..

He got pulled into this mess and didn't even look for it. 

They dumped me with killing a dark lord and called me "savior" before I could even speak. 

They dumped me on the doorstep of people who hated me for "my own good."

They didn't even stop to think if they'd just toss me in an orphanage!

But of course he would do anything to protect those he loved because what choice was there. 

Morgoth is a monster. 

Voldemort was a monster. 

Uncle Maedhros suffered for 10 years in that rat pit. 

We were both helpless but now.....

"Lómion?" said Maedhros as he held his face in one hand before pulling him into a hug. 

"Pitya are you alright?" 

He just held onto the warmth. His fëa reaching for the semblance of peace he craved for so long. Maedhros responding in kind as the love of family filled his heart. 

I can't let it happen again. 

I'm tired of being helpless.

I'm tired of losing people. 

So tired. 

But.....it's nice that there's someone who finally understands. 

Even if they don't know everything. 

"Thank you uncle. Thanks for saying that, it means a lot" he said as he burrowed himself deeper into the warmth. A manner similar to how a mole sought the warmth of the earth. 

Of course Maedhros would not understand what Harry/Lómion meant by those words until much later. 

(Year 454 of the First Age, Two months before the Dagor Bragollach)

Autumn was nearing it's end.

The leaves had all fallen and the trees now left barren from their loss. The remnants of the once green vibrant trees now wilted and returned to the earth from wence they came. Their pieces to once again serve as the foundation for new life in the seasons to come. 

Well that would normally be the case. 

However, for the lands of Dorthonion that new spring would not come and possibly never would again. At least not for a very long time. 

For in a few months fire would rain down upon those lands. Though with all the blessings and miracles the world could grant the lands had been practically emptied thanks to the efforts of his family and Harry/Lómion's magic. Less than a third of the original residents and mostly soldiers remaining. 

All the harvests and preparations were now complete. The weapons, farming tools, and medicines had been distributed to all the respective territories. Though it did take some time to teach the new medical practices to the healers. The meticulosness required for brewing "Essence of Dittany" proved to be quite tedious for some. But in the end it all worked out. The healers seeming to be especially taken with learning the new stitching and infection control practices. For every territory, their respective safe rooms and castles were now ready to withstand a siege along with house the women and children should the battle go for awhile. 

In the book the battle lasted for a whole season. 

But not on my watch.

Before the night is up I will make sure most of that horrid dementor's forces are dust. 

I'm sure Prongs will be excited to break out his antlers. 

However, before Harry/Lómion could feel even remotely at ease there was still one task left to complete. He was flying as a Saker Falcon and once more heading for the Falas. 

Now why was he heading for the Falas? 

Simple

He needed to see Cirdan and relay some information. 

There was also the issue of well.....Aegnor. 

If Aegnor hears about Finrod being attacked he may very well go and do something stupid. 

Never mind I'm not even sure if he knows about what happened to Orodreth and Angrod. 

When I told everyone else about it....well they had mixed reactions. 

Maglor, Maedhros, and Curufin just banged their heads on the desk (Poor boys🤭, Ouch😅).

Caranthir and Erestor just smirked and shook their heads.

Celegorm, Amrad, Amras, and Fingon outright collapsed laughing.

Even Huan looked happy, his tail was wagging so much it knocked down the nearest chair (Pooch never liked them🤭).

Now as for haru, he just sighed and got drunk on some vintage wine? 

Maybe one of these days I should try the stuff again.

I got drunk once and Ginny almost strangled me for oversleeping and forgetting to get the groceries (Nice knowing you😬).

So long story short he was practicing effective communication. Andreth is 65 now and doesn't need the stress of her husband acting like a valiant idiot on account of false information. For whatever reason the descendants of the House of Finwë were most certainly doomed to need a sitter with some semblance of commen sense (And you have that?🤨). Sailelde was 24 now and oh goodness she grew into a beautiful and sweet peredhel. She didn't look like a full adult on account of her elvish heritage slowing down her growth a bit but she did look to be exiting her teens. Said springing youth most certainly not needing to lose her father on account of the ridiculous Finwion bravery that seemed to get everyone killed. 

Sorry Grand Uncle Fëanor but running straight into a horde of Balrogs like a war crazed madman was most definitely NOT BLOODY SMART!

(In the Halls of Mandos, the spirit of Fëanáro suddenly felt like his spiritual ears were itching; the Lord of the Halls now gazing at him in perplexion)

Besides, I did not become their self designated fairy godmother for him to go and get himself killed for nothing. 

Sailelde will inevitably be separated from one parent for awhile but to the Vale am I letting her suffer losing another. 

This is not turning into a tragedy!

Sigh either way.....

I also need him somewhat aware of things before the Silmaril madness happens. 

It's been near 30 years and everyone seems to be decently used to my magic (Uh..Nope😅). 

At least I haven't seen any of them faint or scream since the barrier whoha (They did in private😏). 

So it's just reasonable to give him some buffer time to get used to this (He won't👀).

Oh bugger this is gonna be awkward. 

The reason for said awkwardness being that Harry/Lómion was planning to introduce himself to his cousin.

As himself rather than just a hummingbird....sort of.

There's just no way this won't be awkward (You're right👀).

If he's anything like the others than I better I have a stone ready to transfigure just in case. 

Funny enough he actually did. 

Prior to taking flight from the Gap he had grabbed a small pebble. It was just a random stone that was sitting right outside the castle but was just small enough to be held in one of his claws. 

A perfect stone to transfigure into a mattress should his blonde cousin decide to become one with the floor. 

Hopefully Cirdan can be there to mitigate.

He was coming up on the Havens now and could almost see Cirdan's house. Though something was indeed different this time around. This time it seemed like there were a few horses grazing right outside the house. A clear sign that Cirdan had some company.

He had just landed on the same railing right on top of the balcony when.

"Who I choose to trade with and how I manage my lands are none of the concerns of Doriath! I have already told you that I know nothing of the maia that was seen over a  decade ago" said an elderly voice in clear anger and frustration. Though their tone was neatly controlled and aged with the wisdom of millenia long past. The elf speaking being none other than Cirdan.

"We are aware of that my Lord but our king cannot fathom why you would do business with kinslayers" said what was clearly another messenger from Doriath. They're tone clearly harboring an arrogant snippiness. 

"Who I do business with is no concern of Elwë's"

"King Elu Thingol my Lord. Please do not forget that the king has banned the tongue of murderers from these lands" said the messenger that dared to interrupt the oldest elf in middle earth. The waters by the house slightly churning in agitation. The falcon that was Harry/Lómion clearly seething from the apparent disrespect.

I oughta hex that git into the next century! 

I'm sure a lovely bat bogey hex would teach them some manners. 😡

"How dare you disrespect our lord!" seethed what clearly sounded like that elf Gaerdor from last time. 

"At ease Gaerdor. Language of murderers is it? I find that quite humorous given it is the same tongue spoken by your king's own brother Olwë. The same tongue that is spoken by not only the Valar but also the elves of Valinor that lie across the sea. The same tongue spoken by the Vanyar and Teleri that have committed no sin whatsoever. Should a representative of Valinor ever deign to grace our shores. Do tell me how all of you plan to even communicate with them? What I call the elf that I knew since before you were even born is my business and mine alone" said Cirdan in the tone of one who would not be defied. His use of sound reasoning in combination with an indisputable argument left the messenger stammering to find a rebuttal.

Wow he's amazing. 

He's a genius with words.

He's not even being manipulative, but just making sense of an unreasonable argument.

"Make no mistake I have not forgotten what they have done but I am not blind to how they are vehemently defending the north from the enemies forces. The same enemy that you have all been hiding from within Doriath while everyone else is left to fight. Do not think any of the Falathrim have forgotten your people's abandonment during the siege. However, I choose not to hold onto pointless grudges and blind anger that would otherwise doom us all during a period where we must work together" boomed Cirdan in a controlled voice. His voice only marginally rising while still holding authority. 

"So I am to interpret this as your refusal of his majesty's commands. Should that be the case, be made sure that no aid will ever come from the king's ranks" said the messenger with clear distaste and arrogance. All the while unaware of the tsunami they were unwittingly stirring right outside. For those words had pissed off a certain bird to the point its eyes were almost going green from their power starting to leak out. 

That's it!

Leg Locker curse it is!

Command?? Command?! 

He's not his servant you foul loathsome little....!

Hey wow!!!

Harry/Lómion's thoughts were swiftly halted when the waves outside Cirdan's home almost harshly crashed against the cliffs bordering the Shipwright's house. The water splashing and sprinkling all over the falcon's feathers. If he were not so distracted and his occlumency shields weren't up Harry/Lómion would have heard a voice telling him to relax. Though the tone would have been naught but gentle and kind. Almost in the manner of an elder sibling trying to calm their youngest from throwing a tantrum despite they themselves being upset. Of course Harry/Lómion wouldn't hear it as he was currently more worried about trying to dry his now wet feathers. The perpetrator behind the cooling soak silently laughing from beneath the waves. The occupants of the old elf's home not being blind to the impact of what just hit the house. 

"Well it would seem it's time for you to leave lest you anger the Lord of Waters or their maiar. And as for your so called aid. Your king has not aided me in centuries. The first I hear of the friend I once knew is when he wants something or seems to subsequently think he can threaten me in my own home. Be gone from my doorstep and tell your king it is he that has lost my friendship" said Cirdan with a steely gaze but not a hint of anger coming from his voice. The emotionless tone clearly unsettling the messenger as they swiftly turned and left. Their horse soon disappearing into the distance before another wave decided to crash against Cirdan's home, though this one being far less violent than the last. 

Harry/Lómion's bird form letting out an indignant "squawk" when it did. 

Oh no I'm not getting wet again! 

Bugger my feathers!

Ugh I smell like salt!

It was then the balcony doors opened and out came an elf Harry/Lómion didn't recognize. This elf had dark silver hair and and silvery blue eyes. The elf clearly bearing Teleri heritage and must have been none other than Gaerdor. The elf's gaze looking kind when his head turned and landed on his soaked form. The small smile looking like one trying to calm a startled animal. 

"Well hello there little one. How'd you get there? Oh dear seems like you got a bit wet, certainly not good for flying" said Gaerdor in a kind tone. 

"Gaerdor my friend who are you speaking to?" said Cirdan as he came out as well and turned to see who his friend was looking at. Though the moment the elf's silver brown gaze landed on the falcon his wheat colored brow twitched for just the briefest moment. A knowing look now gracing the elf's features. A look that clearly said "busted."

Bugger..

"I see we have a little visitor. Gaerdor could you please get me some towels. I believe this little bird must be getting cold" said Cirdan as a smirk crossed his features. All the while the falcon in question looking like it wanted to puff it's feathers and hope it made them invisible.

That look is the same one Professor McGonagall had when she knew I did something 😑.

Ugh..

"Yes, my Lord. Wait, you know this bird?" said Gaerdor as he pointed at the falcon on the railing. 

"Indeed my friend, I think he believes my balcony to be his second nest. What with all the times I've caught him up here. A most naughty child to be sure. Perhaps now he's learned his lesson" said Cirdan as he looked at Harry/Lómion with a gaze a grandparent would take when lightly reprimanding a child. A gaze he was all too familiar with given the stunts he's pulled around his haru. 

He lectured me for three days, THREE DAYS after the whole barrier thing. 

It took forever to get the residents to leave the Pools of Ivrin. 

It's not my fault I have bad timing (Legendary bad timing🤦).

Though while he was feeling sorry for himself Gaerdor had gone and was already bringing back a blue fluffy looking towel. 

"Thank you my friend. I'll take it from here" said Cirdan as he took the towel from his friend. The elf clearly meaning to give the both of them some privacy. 

"Yes my lord. Are you sure you will not need anything else?" said Gaerdor as he made ready to leave. 

"Yes my friend, worry not I know how to handle this chick" said Cirdan in what sounded like a playful tone. 

Hey, I'm not a chick 😑.

The dark silver haired elf just nodded his head in response and left. The door closing behind them with a "click." The only remaining occupants of the house now being himself and Cirdan who was now looking at him expectantly.

Sigh, well I can't exactly whine seeing as he got me a towel.

With the decision made Harry/Lómion jumped from the railing and clumsily glided to the waiting towel in Cirdan's arms. The attempt proving difficult given his wings were soaked. Cirdan then proceeding to wrap him in the towel as he walked back inside and towards his desk. Once he sat down and placed the wrapped up bird on the desk. He gave the bird a mischievous chiding smile. 

Harry/Lómion had the decency to try and burrow his face into the towel. 

An almost miserable sounding "chirp" coming out of his beak. 

Of course Cirdan would just let out a small chortle as he pet Harry/Lómion's feathered head. The motion almost tempting him to take a quick nap given he was also wrapped up. 

"Before you start blaming yourself, know I do not fault you for any of this. That messenger wasn't here just because of the supposed 'maia.' Oh no, they were interested in the seeds you handed me. Twad seem Melian has noticed that specific change in the music. Not surprising given she once served as handmaiden to Lady Yavanna's sister Lady Vana" said Cirdan in a placating and calm tone. His bird form tilting its head in slight question.

She notices that and not everything else?

Or she has and just hasn't said anything.

"The rice, potatoes and banana seeds you gave me have grown to beyond what we expected. Some of the surrounding wetlands were perfect for growing them. Honestly, the harvests were more plentiful than expected. The grains have all been stored in our warehouses and are under heavy guard" said Cirdan in near wonder of what he was saying. 

Well that's good. 

But?

"However, it would seem Melian telling her husband about their creation has caused him to take an interest. He now believes a maia of Yavanna or perhaps a kinsman to his wife is responsible. He wanted some of the seeds and information on them. You gave me this gift to help others and do so I will" said Cirdan in a tone that clearly said there was something he didn't want to say. 

But Thingol wouldn't.

He would take them and monopolize them. 

Never mind give them to edain.

That is unless Melian intervened, like she did for Turin when it came to giving him lembas.

Damn it..

"Sigh, I have a feeling you've just gathered your own conclusion. Please child, despite everything please try not to think badly of him"

Yeah no.

I'm afraid that's getting harder and harder. 

I'm already offended he thinks I'm a plant maia???

Pfft if anyone deserved that title it was Neville Longbottom.

That man was the bravest and greatest plant lover I've ever met. 

"But moving to a lighter topic. What is this I hear about the lands of Minas Tirith and Dorthonion being practically emptied in one night. Never mind rumors of strange haunting singing that happened to correlate with the residents disappearance. Aegnor was near frantic something happened to his brother and nephew. Well that was until King Finrod sent me a VERY long letter telling me about what happened after I inquired about the matter. Worry not, none still know that Aegnor is here but child what in Arda did you do to make Angrod and Orodreth so angry? King Finrod told me in the letter he had to slip them sleeping teas almost three times already. Sleeping herbs that apparently YOU provided him?" said Cirdan with slight surprise coating his words. Though for the most part his tone was most definitely that of a parent berating their child for doing something crazy. His words basically saying "Boy, what the hell were you thinking??" The waters outside lightly trembling, as though they were holding back the urge to laugh. 

All the while the wrapped up falcon let what sounded like hiccuped clicking trills escape his beak. Though the sound didn't nearly do justice to the ample cackling he was unleashing in his head. 

Hahahahahaha

Sorry but serves them right. 

I knew they wouldn't listen to reason. 

Bloody stubborn idiots🙄, but then again I wasn't really sure Finrod would use them.....Pffftttt.....

Hahahahahahahaha🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Cirdan just shook his head at the falcon and gave him an unimpressed look. No doubt figuring out that Harry/Lómion found the whole thing hilarious. 

"Oh tis funny is it? Do I even want to know how you managed such a feat?" 

Probably not 👀.

"I actually find it quite interesting how the victims of your little escapade seem to have no specific recollection of the incident. All they could tell King Finrod was that the 'Patron of the House of Finwë' did it as their lords raged for days on end. By Eru, I pity King Felagund" said Cirdan as he started rubbing his head in exasperation. A clear habit of those who just heard something that would normally be ridiculous. The waves outside the house now actually releasing inconsistent spurts of water as though someone were letting out small bursts of laughter. Their attempts to contain it spectacularly failing. 

Why do you think I gave Finrod those sleeping herbs?

Well I'm still not sorry 😒

They had to get out of there. 

I tried playing nice but they still didn't listen. 

Oh well.

They'll get over it.....eventually. 

Despite still being a bit damp Harry/Lómion climbed his way out of the towel and made for the edge of the desk. He then transformed back into an elf. His hair and clothes still wet from the big splash. Cirdan looked like he was about to say something when Harry/Lómion just snapped his fingers and silently cast a "Quick-Drying charm." 

The water and moisture from his hair and clothes quickly evaporating into steam. In just a few seconds his hair and clothes were now once again dry. Cirdan looking at the scene with wide eyes. The waters outside going still as though they were surprised. However, there were still more surprises to come. 

"Oh here let me take care of that real quick" he said as he grabbed the towel he had been ensconced in just a moment ago. The blue towel clearly wet and smeared with a bit of the bad feathers that had fallen off him. 

A silent "Scourgify" and another "Quick-Drying charm" swiftly returning the towel to its original state once the feathers had dissipated and the water was dried. Harry/Lómion neatly folding the towel before handing it back to Cirdan with a small smile on his face. The older elf slowly taking it and looking at the now clean item with controlled wonder before finding his voice.

"That seems quite....the domestic trick" said Cirdan in an attempt to control his curiosity at the blatant display of magic. Harry/Lómion simply shrugging his shoulders at the observation.

"Just your standard cleaning charm. Pretty helpful for getting nasty stains out" he said with nonchalance. His gaze moving to the chair by the desk and in turn missing the look Cirdan was now sporting. A look that clearly said "standard?"

"Indeed" 

"...Has that been happening often?" he said with a bit of regret in his tone as he looked at Cirdan. A silent permission to sit down. The older elf of course giving him leave to relax as he gently gestured for him to sit. 

"Not as often as you think little one. Though I am loathe to learn you heard all that. Tis not something you should worry about Lómion; I can handle myself well enough. Besides, I had a feeling something like this would happen at some point" said Cirdan as he looked out into the vastness of the sea. A forlorn look gracing his old features.

"I can't help but think this is my fault because I asked for those trade agreements" he said in an almost guilty tone. The waves outside the house crashing in rebuttal.

"My qualms with Elwë are not and never will be your fault child. I made the choice to engage in trade with your family and I do not regret it. Do recall that I did seek to miff him a bit. Queen Melian may have told him about the new foods but I don't think she expected him to have such a reaction. Despite all the clear evidence he still does not believe your family's house is being aided by a maiaran patron" said Cirdan as his head rested on his hand. 

I wonder how long he can keep up that belief.

I mean he's technically right but it's just ridiculous how he things no one would help them. 

That's just so narrow-minded.

It's almost frightening how Thingol and Turgon have such a penchant for ignoring the reality around them.

I shouldn't be complaining but at the same time it's quite disappointing. 

Well whatever, I'm not going to bother indulging such behavior if he ever dares try that on me.

He may be my grandfather and I don't want him to die but I will NOT be controlled or manipulated by anyone.

"Now little one, may chance would you care to tell me what you did to your cousins?" said Cirdan as one of his brows went up. A clear look on his face saying "time to confess you little minx." Harry/Lómion had the decency to look a bit sheepish before answering.

"They wouldn't listen to haru's summons to come to Barad Eithel. He told them to evacuate their territories because of the upcoming attack but they wouldn't listen. I wasn't going to let them or their people get killed because of their stubbornness. So I took matters into my own hands and may have......erased their memories of most of it in the process" he said and looked away from the wide and incredulous look Cirdan gave him when he finished explaining. The waters outside going completely still in a manner that was almost saying "you what??"

"...Pardon?" said Cirdan with wide eyes and a first time seen gaping jaw.

"Okay, I didn't actually erase their memories. It's more so I kind of hazed them with an enchantment. I'll tell them the truth eventually but just not for awhile" he said and looked away again when Cirdan just gave him a chiding look.

"And when would that be?" said Cirdan in a manner that really said "What in the world were you thinking?"

"Later.....a lot later" he said and winced when he saw the look Cirdan gave him. A look that clearly said "Uh huh sure😑."

Well it's not like I assaulted them (Yes you did😅).

"So you basically assaulted your cousins to save their lives" said Cirdan as though he couldn't believe what he was saying. Said offender just letting out an indignant.

"No!" (Yes😇!)

"Lómion you don't knock out your cousins to save their lives. Though it seems you found it prudent to be kind to their unconscious forms given I was told you wrapped them up like a packed lunch" said Cirdan with a mischievous smile on his face. It almost looked like he was now finding the whole thing hilarious. The waves outside now nearly thrashing in what looked like humorous excitement. The offender merely shrugging his shoulders with a cowed look on his face as he struggled to suppress a snort.

I was thinking a burrito or sandwich, but that's really good.

"Oh Valar you are something else you mischievous mouse. Pray tell me what your grandfather had to say about that? I sincerely doubt he doesn't know of your shenanigans" said Cirdan as he moved to rub his temple. 

"Well he just looked tired and then I believe got drunk that same night I told him. Uncle Fingon told me he had some really rare vintage wine or something" he said and blinked when he saw the old elf release a snort, then another, until finally Cirdan burst into howls of laughter he probably hadn't released for a very long time. The old elf was actually clutching onto his stomach from how hard he was laughing. The waves outside his home crashing in what seemed like a deep approval for the sound. 

Cirdan kept laughing for quite a while before he finally calmed down. The pale faced elf now looked totally red in the face. His wheat colored beard completely contrasting the color. Cirdan took a few deep breaths before finally speaking.

"Truly, I have to pity your grandfather. Were I not older I'd say he's too old to be dealing with all this but at the same time you certainly make life interesting child"

Oh you have no idea.

"Alright Lómion, what is it this old elf can do for you? I know there is a reason for your coming little one" said Cirdan as he gave a knowing gaze to the young elf before him. Harry/Lómion's gaze than shifted to an almost squeamish one. 

Well here goes.

"You know about the battle to come. Well the truth is I need to talk to Aegnor and clue him in on what's been going on.....and what will" he said and looked a bit surprised by the steady expression on Cirdan's face.

"What will?" said Cirdan as his gaze now bore into Harry/Lómion. 

"I need to tell him that his brothers and nephew will be fine; that no matter what he hears.......so will Finrod" he said with a deep hesitance. Though he was surprised to see a concerned gaze on the old elf's face. The waters now silent in anticipation. 

"He needs to know that no matter what he hears, Finrod will be fine despite what will happen" he said with nothing but seriousness in his voice. 

Aegnor didn't survive in the original story but there's no way I can let him go out there based on false information or whatever might set him off.

If he hears Dorthonion got captured and that Finrod was out there; he might really do something crazy.

"Lómion...what do you mean?" said Cirdan as he held his breath, as though knowing he wouldn't like the answer that was coming.

Well here goes.

"I'm going to be out there during the battle and while Dorthonion will be lost. I am going to make sure as few lives are as well" he said and almost flinched from what happened next.

"NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! You are not but a child! Lómion you do not have to go out there! Child the music of Arda cannot be changed so profoundly. I know you have prevented tragedies and made miracles happen but you cannot recklessly risk your life like this! Please child!" boomed Cirdan as he immediately rose from the desk and grabbed Harry/Lómion's shoulders in the grip of a desperate parent. The old man clearly bearing a pleading look on his face. The expression being one that the once great wizard Harry Potter would never get used to, so instead he just reached for one of Cirdan's hands on his shoulder. A small comforting smile now on his young face.

"I'm not trying to change the music Cirdan, not in the way you think" he said in the tone of his once adult self. His body language no longer bearing that of the young elf Cirdan had come to know.

"Pardon? Lómion what do you mean?" said Cirdan in genuine confusion. 

"I know the music of Arda has a set path. An accent that must play for the intended crescendo, a hymn that must be sung for the forced inversion to be harmonized. I am not going to change the music to where everything we hope for is lost just to delay the inevitable. I know what I can and can't change Cirdan but the notes and small melodies that make up people's lives, that I can save. The music and fate that was meant to play out will happen and by the time this battle is over Morgoth will not know that he has even lost, never mind my own existence. By the time I'm done only we will know of our victory and that monster will be none the wiser to the knowledge that he has been played until all is said and done. This song will play out as the Allfather intended but without the needless misery and tragedy that came from that path" he said with the sheer resolve that set him on the path to destroying evil in another life. He spoke with naught the softhearted kindness of a child but the bearing of a warrior that had known war and loss time and time again. Before the eyes of Cirdan the shipwright, for but a moment, he saw the glowing emerald eyes of Harry James Potter that had otherwise been veiled in the hröa of an elf. 

The old shipwright now looking deeply torn about what to say next.

Though the elf before him would soon do it for him as Harry/Lómion spoke again.

"Trust me. Please, just trust me" he said and almost lost his resolve when he saw the older elf sag his head in clear defeat. Cirdan now rising to return to his chair. His expression looking no less forlorn. 

"You will not change your mind will you?"

"No"

"I assume I am not the only one that has tried to stop you"

"Most definitely not"

"Yet you have still refused"

"Yes"

"This is utter madness"

"So I've been told"

"Because it is! You are an elfling and you seem to believe you are under an obligation to guard those who should be guarding you. If I ever get my hands on the one's who poisoned your mind like this, I'm going to drown them in the sea" 

That did startle him. 

They were quiet for a long moment following that statement. The silence of the room was almost deafening until Cirdan finally looked at him again, steeled himself, and finally spoke. 

"Well then, I believe I'm the one who's going to be need to be drunk tonight. However, before I do that I believe we have a cousin of yours to summon. I hope you're aware this is probably going to be an interesting meeting"

Oh I have no doubt. 

So that was how it went. A few hours later Cirdan had summoned Aegnor while Harry/Lómion hid in the old elf's robes as a small hummingbird. At first Aegnor was happy to see the small bird again and let him perch on his finger. It was all going fine......

......until he reached for Aegnor's fëa to form a temporary ósanwë link through their familial bond.

Yeah......

From there he just totally freaked out.....

And needless to say that pebble ended up being swiftly transfigured into a mattress. 

"You...you...all this time you were..????? Oh Valar....oh......."

"Thud!"

Oh dear....timber...😓

That wasn't the only time he fainted too. He was already panicked after he woke up the first time and started mumbling "impossible" through almost half of the mental conversation. 

Well at least I didn't show him my real face.

Though he definitely knows we're cousins now.

Cousins indeed, for after he had gained some semblance of his wits. The golden wavy haired ner seemed to have resolved himself into interrogating the daylights out of him. Of course, Harry/Lómion didn't tell him much given he didn't know how well Aegnor could keep quiet. 

Though by the time the conversation was done one thing was for sure. Aegnor loved that he was the only one out of his whole house that knew of who was responsible for all the madness Beleriand had been privy to lately. He laughed so hard when he found out what Harry/Lómion had done to his brothers and nephew. 

The knightly looking prince just went on and on about how Angrod could have used a humbling experience or how he finally knew something that Artanis didn't.

Wow, he's supposed to be older than me yet he has so much energy 😏.

Though what Aegnor told him in the end did surprise him. 

"You know Sailelde always suspected something after you gave her that necklace" said Aegnor with a smirk on his face. His blue eyes digging into the hummingbird perched on his finger. 

Wait what?

"She said she could feel a stirring in her fëa when you gave it to her. Twas almost as though she could feel the familial bond between you two. Of course, now she'll know she has a cousin or should I say heart uncle you cunning little bird" said Aegnor and the smirk got even wider when the bird on his finger started "meeping" like crazy. The shock of the revelation clearly making its way through their temporary bond. 

"Worry not dear cousin, for I shall keep my silence. You also need not worry about me committing any 'foolish' acts of bravery as you so plainly put it" said Aegnor as he quirked a brow when he saw the hummingbird lift a wing to try and cover it's little head in embarrassment. The bird replying in his head with a petulant quip.

"Well at least I'm here communicating what's going on. Either way I'm glad we could finally talk. Just make sure you stay safe until I can update you on what happens after the battle"  he said and noticed an odd look on Aegnor's face. One that looked like he was deeply contemplating something. However, he would not speak his thoughts and instead just rubbed a thump over his little head. 

"So you have said, I know not what you have planned cousin. However, just stay safe" said Aegnor and that would be the end of it. 

For after he said those words the conversation dissolved into a few pleasantries before he departed Cirdan's lands as a Saker falcon. 

However, not before the old elf hugged him and sternly told him to be careful. 

Harry/Lómion's reply being a hug in return as he promised the old elf that he would see him again before taking off into the sky. 

Though unbeknownst to the young Master of Death, the Lord of Waters had been left in profound shock following the revelation to his favored.

The waters now deathly still from what Harry/Lómion had just revealed. 

The Vala of the Seas now calling all his kin for an immediate meeting in the Máhanaxar.

But it would be too late, because by the time they could even begin to register the severity of his words the changes to the music would already be done.

For now the Dagor Bragollach was about to begin.

(Year 455 of the First Age, one hour before the Dagor Bragollach)

For all the time spent preparing for this night nothing could have calmed the racing of his heart. No words of comfort or songs of reassurance could have silenced the foreboding that threatened to take over his very being. What seemed like all the time in the world had now dwindled to a mere hour that would soon bring the reckoning he had long feared. For now he could feel it. In the ever reaching darkness of the night and in an hour where there was no moonlight to guide the way, he could feel it. 

They're coming.

They are coming.

For every minute that passed he could feel the wards being crossed.

Wards that would soon break from the sheer number now crossing the boundaries. 

There were thousands of them. 

Not 10,000 or 20,000, but more. 

So much more and they would be upon the free peoples of middle earth within the hour. All the while the Master of Death stood at the side of the his grandfather and uncle Fingon with bated breath as he gazed out into the darkness. 

A darkness that brought forth a quote to the front of Harry/Lómion's mind. 

A quote that could not have described this situation in better terms.

" If thou gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will also gaze back into thee"

A famous quote by Friedrich Nietzsche.

But how could the famous philosopher have ever gleaned that his words would be used to describe the dire situation Harry/Lómion now found himself.

Well it's too late to turn back now. 

Not that there'd be anywhere to go. 

Come on Harry, you can do this.

Well he certainly wasn't dressed for anything less than a fight. Two weeks prior to the battle Curufin had presented him with armor forged from some of the galvorn he had gifted to the smith. His uncle's reasoning being that if Harry/Lómion was going to fight than he should have the very best. A gift he couldn't have been more touched to receive. 

The armor he wore was black as the night. It was plated but almost looked like it was smooth as leather. In one hand he held his firebolt, the fastest broom he had. On his belt was his father's sword Anguirel. The black blade matching the pitch black armor he now wore. Than finally covering his back and shoulders was the invisibility cloak. The power of the cloak still disengaged until he put on his hood. The elder wand and all the other hallows safely stowed in his storage dimension. 

I'm definitely gonna need that wand for this.

The armies were ready and stationed in their respective positions. However, all stood behind the boundaries of the primary barrier. The elves would hold Barad Eithel while the edain would defend Dor-lómin. The House of Hador ready to take out the enemy at a moments notice. Their forces together comprising nearly 15,000. 

But without aid...it still would have been a close call.

The same outcome as was once told in the Silmarillion. 

The three of them stood at the base of the castle. The armies before them at the ready and waiting for the signal. All the women and children had been evacuated to the lower caves and would make ready to flee with a small unit should the defense fail. 

But if all goes well than that won't be necessary. 

...Well....emphasis on the *if*

Oh thank goodness I made five of those boulder stacks because we're gonna need em. 

Honestly, this night could not have been more staged for a battle.

The sky was completely overcast.

The stars of Varda were nowhere to be seen.

Even the moon's silver light had been overshadowed by the clouds.

The world was silent.

All held their breathe.

Twas though all waited for the deep breathe before the plunge. 

On his right stood his grandfather. The tall raven haired elf was clad in armor of shimmering blue and silver. He wore a cape of white and blue; a stark contrast to the armor he himself was wearing. The heraldic mark of the House of Fingolfin was engraved upon his chest plate and at his side was Fingolfin's sword Ringil. The famous blade that would have been the only weapon to truly harm the Dark Lord Morgoth.

Yeah, would have been fine if he didn't die in the process.

Sorry haru but that's not happening this time around. 

On his left stood the crown prince of the Ñoldor and his Uncle Fingon. He wore armor of a silver make similar to Fingolfin but the difference was he wore no cape nor did he have a helm of silver. Fingon's was instead blue while Fingolfin's was silver. 

"I still wish you weren't here hína" 

I know....

His dark eyes shifted to the source of the voice. The source, of course, being none other than his uncle Fingon. The uncle of his blood that now gazed upon his shorter form with a small frown on his pale face. Fingon's cerulean blue eyes were gazing into his black ones with a hidden sadness. 

He did not argue, he did not make excuses, and he did not try to make light of the situation. Instead he just smiled at the only blood uncle to actually love him in both lives. 

"I know and I am sorry. For what it's worth I'll stay in the air as much as I can. If you truly get worried, contact me through the bond" he said as he looked at his Uncle with naught but the love a child held for someone they cared about.

"Is it truly so serious that you need be out there at all" came a voice from his right. A hand now holding his free one and a familiar fëa now reaching for his. Fingolfin's silver blue eyes looked into his as though pleading for him to change his mind. Harry/Lómion just affectionately squeezed his hand back.

"Yes, I'm sorry but yes. I can feel them. They're crossing the compulsion wards I've placed even now. They'll be here any minute now and....I can feel Galurung is with them. They'll hit the Gap first and then come here. That's why I'll apparate there in a moment but before I do. Please, stay inside the primary barrier until your forces have to come out" 

"What do mean 'have to' Lómion?" said his Uncle in confusion. His uncle now looking profoundly surprised when a wolfish smile decorated his face. 

"Remember when I said I was making boulders. Well this is the last surprise I meant. Just tell everyone not to attack them or well....freak out. They'll do most of the heavy lifting for you as well as act as the primary vanguard outisde the barrier" he said and gave his Uncle a mischievous wink. He was now about to mount his broom when a hand once again reached for his. 

His grandfather's hand. 

Even now he still doesn't want me to go.

Dear Merlin this is so hard.

Harry/Lómion took his grandfather's hand. Set his broom to hover by itself for a moment and in a blink engulfed his grandfather in a very tender embrace. It felt so warm he almost didn't let go. But when he did he moved to do the same for Fingon. The warmth and tenderness being something he never wanted to let go of. 

Hugs were a rare thing in Harry Potter's childhood.

A scarce treasure after his father in this life deteriorated. 

Then in Gondolin were nonexistent.

But now they were so abundant one would think he'd found the Golden City of Eldorado. 

He loved them and he would protect them.

His resolve set as he slowly let go of Fingon. A hand held from each of them. 

For all that had happened in both lives, he was grateful to have at least known this for as long as he did. 

Letting go of their hands being the hardest thing he ever did in this life. 

His broom returning to his side. Then before he pulled up his cloak and took off into the sky he said words he had ever so rarely had the chance to say to his loved ones. 

With naught but love in his voice he near whispered to his maternal family. 

"I love you"

Then he was gone. 

It took him less than five minutes to reach the edges of Barad Eithel. The very edges of where the primary defense barrier began. The armies at his back and the boulders he had so painstakingly prepared right in front of him. Right past the boundary before him laid the stretches of grass that had sprouted in the once barren fields of Ard-Galen. Once barren fields that would soon be named Anfauglith, the Land of Choking Ash. Green was his signature color, the color of his past mother's eyes, the color of tree leaves, and some would argue the color of life.

How ironic that such a color would be donned by the Master of Death.

This would be the last time he would see these fields and that brought pain to his heart. 

If it hurts me this much, even if it's the elf thing, I can't imagine how Neville would have felt.

Hah....I guess I can see how Neville got sorted into Gryffindor.

His courage and bravery were just unrivaled. 

The way he stood up to the Carrows, to Voldemort, and to all those monsters in the face of sure defeat was just mad and phenomenal......

....He was braver than me honestly.....

Can I even be called brave when I relied on everyone so much.....but now.....I'm alone.....

But it can't be helped. 

I can't save these lands but I can make sure the one who hurt them pays.

Morgoth won't win.

He won't.

And to everyone who helped me.

To everyone who tolerated and taught me.

To the Professors who defended us even at the cost of their lives.

Thank you.

 Professor McGonagall this one's for you.

"Piertotum Locomotor"

Just as in his last life.

The effect came like thunder in a storm.

BOOM

Rise

BOOM

Stack

BOOM

Grow

BOOM

Bigger

BOOM

Taller

BOOM

Another

BOOM

Again

BOOM

Stronger

BOOM

Higher

None could have prepared.

None could have dreamed.

None could have fathomed.

There before the armies of the Ñoldor.

Before the armies of the House of Fingolfin.

Stood the Five Stone Giants that would defend the lands of Barad Eithel.

Conjured Stone Giants that stood taller than the Balrogs.

Nay these defenders stood 30ft (9m) tall.

The voice of their commander echoing before them.

"Sonorus"

"Defend the Vanguard!"

"Protect these lands!"

"Destroy all the foul monsters that stand in your path"

"Let not evil defile the lands of the free people"

"Do your duty!"

High King Fingolfin, Crown Prince Fingon, and all the armies of the Ñoldor were left in wonder and reverence from the empowering words. 

The giants that were now their defenders and allies kneeled before the hidden figure who now soared above them. 

Before now taking position outside the boundary, each of their steps quaking the earth beneath them, but as they did they seemed to disappear but not in the truest sense for they were still barely visible even with the blessing elven sight.

That was all their commander would see as Harry/Lómion apparated right to the Gap of Maglor.

The Land where his strength would be needed the most. 

Bless the soul of the wizard who invented apparition because he would have never gotten here in time without it. Even as he apparated right above the castle he could see the faint flickers of torches in the distance. The wretches would be upon them in less than a few minutes. Well maybe just a tad more if his elven sight was not deceiving him. Mounted on his firebolt and covered in his cloak Harry/Lómion raced to the location of where he knew Maglor would make ready to meet the attacking forces. 

Haru has the stone giants to take the brunt of the attack.

I spelled them against fire and coated them with the "Disillusionment" and "Unbreakable" Charm.

They'll attack as soon as the Balrogs and orcs try to attack the barrier. 

Those rotten orcs and balrogs won't even see them until it's too late (Uh sadistic?👀).

They should be able to smash those foul gits before haru and the armies have to step in (Will they though?😅).

He had to hand it to his Fëanorian uncles though.

They did not play around when it came to war.

From the air Harry/Lómion could tell that there were thousands of elves ready to meet the enemy head on. 

The lights from the torches and balrogs in the distance now getting more visible by the minute. 

It didn't take him long to reach the front line of the vanguard. He pulled of his hood to disengage the invisibility before landing right next to Maglor. 

"Uncle!" he said as his heart father suddenly turned to see him appearing right next to him with the broom at his side.

"Pitya? What are you doing here? I thought you were staying with Uncle?" said Maglor as he took in the armor clad appearance of his heart son. His face now looking pursed as though he were having an internal battle.

"I was but I apparated here" he said and watched Maglor flinch.

That was when Harry/Lómion took a moment to really look at the imposing figure his heart uncle truly made when it came to doing battle. Maglor was clad in white blue armor that was heavily plated, the armor being one that he had personally customized to be impervious to fire and still have space for the special voice amplifying armband he had made for him. The Fëanorian star was clear as day on the breast plate he now wore. An insignia that was no doubt dawned by every member of the House of Fëanor. The color once again a total contrast to the black armor Harry/Lómion now wore. 

"Pitya why?" said Maglor as though he were silently pleading with him to leave and not have any part of this brawl. Sadly, his hopes would see no chance of fulfillment. For the boy before him simply sighed before giving him a kind smile.

"Barad Eithel has the boulders I made......" he did not miss the twitch Maglor's brow momentarily sported.

"So it only makes sense that the territory they'll spread the worst of their forces have their own guardian" he said and before Maglor could ask what he meant he summoned the elder wand. The most coveted Deathly Hallow now appearing in his hand as though it had been veiled in an unseen mist. Maglor's gaze and the forces behind him now staring at the wand as though it was about to come alive. A mischievous and wolfish smirk now decorating the Master of Death's face. A smirk he now directed at Maglor who almost immediately knew that something interesting was about to happen. 

Well he's not wrong but this is something I haven't done in awhile. 

Though now I have little choice.

Hope Prongs enjoys this special treat.

The meaning of his thoughts while confusing to most would soon become clear.

For this use of the Patronus charm had been created by none other but Harry James Power.

A new way to use the Patronus charm. 

A new technique that no evil could ever hope to conquer. 

"Expecto Patronum!"

"Come on Prongs!"

Pointed to the clouded starry heavens the elder wand lit with the light of the stars.

In that hour all who saw the light thought the silver radiance of Telperion had once more returned to the world.

(Imagine the scene where Harry casts the massive Patronus against the Dementors)

For from that light came the White Stag.

Though now he would bare a visage never seen before.

Prongs was brighter.

Prongs was stronger.

Prongs was lit with the radiance of a new born star.

So much so that none would fail to gaze upon him from wherever they be among the Ñoldoran ranks.

The patronus conjured on this night was not one born from the happiness and love of a single memory but ALL of them.

All the memories of his current and past lives were now converging.

To create the most powerful patronus ever known.

For as long as the battle stood Prongs would be the moonlight that pierces the darkness.

He was enormous.

He was larger than a Balrog and stood with the grace of a being born from all that is good.

The most difficult patronus to ever be conjured and the designated defender against evil.

Maglor's forces were left in sheer awe of the stag, so much so that they could not even speak when the being approached his master. 

Their prince now gazing at the beautiful creature with not but affection as it stepped forth towards his master. 

 Harry/Lómion now petting Prongs' snout with not but affection.

"Hello my friend, ready to have some fun?"

Prongs now being able to speak with an actual physical voice, replied with gusto.

"Yes master!"

"Hahaha alright my friend. Well we've got some nasties to get rid of tonight. See, they're right over there."

Oh how the living embodiment of all happiness took that statement.

"Nasties! Like the evil black things from before! Please can I get rid of them master? Can I please? 🥺"

Maglor and everyone else sported quite the interesting look when they heard that. 

Though said prince had an even more interesting answer. 

"That's the spirit Prongs! You just wanna get rid of all those nasties don't you! Make sure you get as many of those big fire gits that are coming up now alright"

Prongs only responded with a jubilant and a little too happy sounding grunt.

The patronus almost looked like it was about to start dancing.

"Alright my friend make sure you wait at the edge of the barrier for them. Only go after them if it looks like they're trying to attack the barrier or aren't coming in anymore"

"Yes sir!"

"Alright you little scamp, off you go than."

The shimmering stag didn't waste another moment as it sprinted off to it's assigned position. 

The whole army was just left gaping from the whole thing.

His Uncle's second and Maglor being no exception as Tarion and his lord's greyish blue eyes were both wide as saucers. 

A funny sight considering Harry/Lómion could almost make out the silhouettes of the Balrogs and orcs that were about to be upon them....or rather the barrier. 

His head turning away from the field to look at Maglor and relay one last message.

"I'll cover from the skies, and take out as many as I can with blitz and guerilla based strikes before I get Glaurung. Stay within the boundary as long as you can, if it starts getting hot the armor should keep you safe. With any luck I'll end this quick" he said and Maglor took that chance to gently grab Harry/Lómion's arm. His face bearing nothing but the worry a parent would for their child. 

"Pitya I know I cannot stop you, but please be careful and do not do anything unnecessary. Please Lómion no matter what promise you will be careful" said Maglor as he looked at Harry/Lómion as though fearing this would be the last time he'd ever see him. His fëa now reaching for his heart father's in an attempt to send waves of calm into the fearful older elf's soul.

"Don't worry, I'll have my cloak on the whole time. They won't see me and if you need to contact me we can use ósanwë. Besides, Prongs will be out there so I'm not too worried" he said and noticed how Maglor still didn't look very convinced. 

"Pitya I do not doubt your friend's strength but still I do not think it can....."

Whatever Maglor was going to say next never left his mouth because well......

"SQUELCH!"

"CRUNCH"

They both flinched from the sudden noise. 

Their heads swiftly turning to where in Arda that noise just came from. 

Though what they saw left Maglor's mouth so wide you could have stuffed a whole pineapple in there and Harry/Lómion groaning in annoyance. 

For there glowing and seemingly prancing a ways outside the barrier in sheer delight was Prongs.

And seemingly impaled on his antlers......

........was a dead balrog. 

For there certainly was no question it was dead given the now snuffed out flames and limp wings that were currently on open display for both armies. 

The little s*** had apparently gotten excited and piked a balrog that decided to go on ahead of the others.

A most grievous mistake indeed. 

Well...for the balrog and the others seeing as it looked like the monsters were actually momentarily contemplating whether to attack the deer that just impaled their kin like a piece of grilled meat. 

........

Wait what is he....

⊙_⊙

Oh....🤦

He's dancing....ಠ_ಠ

Oh my bloody hell is he seriously ...... 

"Prongs!"

The deer in the distance seemingly heard his voice and momentarily froze. 

"Yes master?"

"Prongs you naughty boy! Get that thing off your head you don't know where it's been!"

"Yes sir!"

The glowing patronus did as he was told and whipped his head to throw the dead balrog off. 

Excellent timing.

Seeing as the skewered corpse crashed right into another balrog that was about to attack before collapsing to the ground with a loud..

"Thunk!"

The distracted umaia now being the second victim to be trampled and then swiftly impaled by the deer that had just killed its kin.

Prongs wasted no time and was now making his way through the battlefield.

Unintentionally causing the enemy to start their charge early. 

Harry/Lómion just sighed.

Well...at least he already got two of them.

Might as well make good use of the distraction.

Blimey....kids.

He took a moment to gaze at his heart father who looked.....a little startled. 

Well, at least he didn't faint.

That would have been really bad.

"Alright I'm off uncle, stay safe.....I love you"

Harry/Lómion would not hear Maglor's reply as he immediately mounted his firebolt and shot off towards the battlefield. 

The last thing he saw as he left the boundary were the orcs coming upon the barrier and beginning to be set ablaze.

He did not see the look of heartfelt warmth that graced Maglor's face when he heard Harry/Lómion's words.

He also would not hear the soft "Pitya" that was spoken with such tender love by the elf he had come to love as a parent. 

When he had to fight against the death eaters all those centuries before, it would be an insult to say he had been ill prepared. Not just in the sense of magical and strategic planning. 

Oh no.

He had been ill prepared in every sense of the word. 

He was an 18 yr old boy that had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He had been cast into the role of hero by Dumbledore after his death. Yes, Albus was dying and he may have only had a year left to live after he touched that stupid cursed ring. Marvolo Gaunt's ring, that Albus knew was a horcrux and STILL put the bloody thing on because he thought he could revive his dead sister Ariana. Of all the foolish things to do Harry would have never expected his former headmaster to be so reckless. 

Yes, the resurrection stone can recall loved ones from the grave but they do NOT belong in the world of the living. It'd been near a century since he'd seen her so what was he hoping for. Sure he could have talked to her to try and get some closure. He would certainly know given speaking to the souls of his loved ones were the only reason he had the courage to face his first death at the hands of Voldemort. 

But trying to bring her back to life?

That would never work!

At the very least he could have used the sword of Gryffindor to destroy the ring BEFORE putting the damn thing on. Everyone needed him during that last stand against Voldemort. He died while leaving such vague instructions for everyone. He died while leaving Severus to bear the burden of being hated by everyone that thought him a death eater twice over. Barely anyone believed that he was actually a double agent. It took so many years for him and Hermione to clear the man's name. Never mind how long it took to prove Sirius' innocence after the war. Thankfully they were able to use the body of Peter Pettigrew to prove that the wretch had not actually been blown up, thus clearing his godfather's name once and for all. 

There was no way I was going to let the world think Sirius was a murderer, even from beyond the grave. 

Screw you Fudge!

As if that wasn't enough he died while leaving young Harry, Hermione, and Ron to clean up the mess that he had left behind. All three of them lived like absolute vagabonds because the ministry and the whole wizarding world had gone to the absolute pits. Albus could have done something but instead he just kept waiting and watching. He waited and left things to others because he was too afraid of being given power. Albus Dumbledore feared that if he had power than he would become corrupted. But then you have to question if he can be called all good at all given he left three children to finish his fight with naught but very vague instructions. He may have been constantly hounded by the ministry but it's not as if it was hard to outwit fudge or that pink pompom. 

I'll never forget how he asked Snape to dump the sword in the frozen lake because it had to be retrieved "under conditions of need and valor."

How does bloody jumping in a frozen lake constitute valor??

Especially when he told Severus that I was never supposed to know.

Just why couldn't they communicate or I don't know? Train me better!

When compared to now and then Harry Potter and Maeglin Lómion could not be more different when it came to physical and magical proficiency. 

Back than Harry could barely lift a heavy log and quite barely swing a sword. 

Maeglin Lómion had enhanced maiaran strength and could lift Anguirel with little to no issue.

Harry Potter had only become the most powerful wizard after finally being taught the proper way to wield magic and taking the time to learn how to cast the more difficult spells. It took him three months to get the Fiendfyre spell down. In his first life Harry Potter was an intelligent child but had been pulled out of school and belittled by the Dursley's so many times there were literal gaps in his muggle education. Gaps that had only been filled before he had turned 200 and finally lost everyone he had loved to the sands of time; his descendants and other long lived wizards being the only ones left to keep him company. Many times he had been embarrassed when Arthur Weasely asked him about the muggle world and found he couldn't answer because he just didn't have the knowledge or experience. For all the good Severus had done in regards to protecting him he would sadly forever scorn the man for his abysmal occlumency teaching methods. You do not properly teach someone how to protect their mind by continuously invading it! "Discipline your mind" is not proper instruction! It was only several years after the war that Harry learned you in fact had to slowly build up your mental defenses through meditation. Snape's method would have never worked and frankly hadn't even been used to teach people occlumency since the bloody dark ages. 

It so staggering how different things are now to then.

But even so one can never allow themselves to be arrogant, lest they find themselves taken down by a greater power. 

I may have never wanted to become the Master of Death but at the very least I was not idle during my time in the Wizarding World.

No matter what I'll always be thankful I met my end from old age in that world. 

Though.....I'll never stop missing them.....Hermione....Ron.....Luna......Sirius.....Neville.....Oh gods Hedwig....everyone...

Stop it!

What's done is done! 

Focus!

And focus Maeglin Lómion would for high above the planes of the Gap of Maglor were the armies of Morgoth that had been sent to crush the armies of the Ñoldor. 

Though something was indeed amiss. 

From where Harry/Lómion could see from his broom the armies seemed slightly.....smaller than expected. Okay, true 50,000 was no small number but.....in the Lord of the Rings books Sauron had amassed an army of 100,000 orcs in barely a century. The number of orcs Morgoth had now could actually be near matched by the combined might of the edain and elves of both Hitlum and the House of Fëanor. 

So what was this? 

The only reason the armies seemed bolstered was because of Glaurung who Harry/Lómion could see stood at least 8 miles (~13km) away from the Gap with two balrogs at his side. The seeming pause in their advance apparently stemming from the orcs and Balrog that had just died when they tired to pass the barrier. The elven forces still lying within the boundary so far as Prongs was killing orcs just by being near them. The essence of their evil not being able to withstand what made up a patronus. Though if he didn't do something soon than that would quickly change. 

That's three balrogs dead, so that's good.

I think Morgoth had like 10 total?

Bloody hell that blighter Morgoth sent five balrogs and the dragon to the Gap (╬▔皿▔)╯

No wonder it fell so fast in the book!

But still somethings wrong...

Is it.....is it because Sauron is missing?

Indeed a mystery that Harry/Lómion had spent the last five years trying to solve, but no matter what he did an answer never seemed to present itself. Even his Uncle Maedhros knew nothing of where the famous lieutenant and Morgoth's supposed second was supposed to be. 

Uncle Maedhros said he never saw him in Angband, only heard his name. 

He said the orcs kept rambling about how they hadn't seen Sauron even before Morgoth came back from Valinor after destroying the two trees.

So what does that mean.....

People know he exists or know the name but haven't seen him??

That doesn't make any sense. 

Indeed it didn't, for when Harry/Lómion asked his haru and uncles to help him investigate they found that when asked for actual detail nobody even knew what the supposed maia even looked like. Though Curufin did mention that he had never seen the supposed former maia of Aulë even during his time in Valinor and apprenticing in the world smith's halls. Curufin actually found it odd because when he thought about it the world smith seemed to always be sad about something whenever the vala passed a certain room in his halls. Said room apparently belonging to one of his maiar, specifically a maiar called Mairon. 

Mairon is the original name of Sauron but if he wasn't in Valinor or with Morgoth than where is he? 

His absence would certainly explain these smaller forces. 

Fans and readers always argued that Sauron's strategic mind was the only reason Morgoth lasted so long and it seems they were right. 

Morgoth's definitely not very smart. 

I don't care what people say, the only reason he got as far as he did was because he took advantage of a people that only knew peace (Duh..🙄).

Never mind Manwë wanted his brother back so badly.

I can't blame the Lord of Winds for that but I can fault him for being foolish about it and than handling everything so horribly after. 

Either way.....why do I have such a weird feeling about this......

It's like something is telling me to find him.....

It's not like before with Eru but.....it's like my heart....

However, now would not be the time to ponder such things for there was a war to fight. The person fighting today was not the boy that had just come into the world of magic and was fighting by the skin of his teeth. No, the person fighting today was a centuries aged wizard that been reborn as an elf that was going to protect those he loved. 

In the blink of an eye he had cast every stealth spell he possibly knew. 

"Silencio"

"Muffliato"

"Notice-me-not"

He even hummed a song of concealment, one that would his scent from the dragon.

Harry/Lómion is the Master of Death and if these blighters wanted a firefight than by Merlin they were going to get one!

Alright boys you want fire?

Than here you go!

"Incendio!"

Before the armies could even contemplate what had happened they were suddenly besieged by a torrent of fire and flame.

In the blink of an eye a tornado of bright red flame had turned their second battalion to ashes. 

But it didn't stop.

There were more!

"Incendio"

"Incendio"

"Incendio"

More tornados.

More fire.

The great tornados of flame were now moving throughout the battlefield, incinerating all in their wake.

Now, there were balls of flame coming out of the sky and destroying all in their path.

It was if the great flame maia Arien had decided to cast her righteous flames upon the scum of Morgoth.

The armies of Morgoth were in a panic because they did not know where the flames were coming from.

But little did they know their situation was about to get worse. 

'Eat this you blighters!'

"Fiendfyre!"

From the safety of the barrier Maglor's forces and the armies of the Ñoldor were left stunned by the balled of destruction their eyes beheld.

Coming from the skies was a torrent of what looked like living flames!

For a moment the armies thought they were Balrogs, but immediately thought again when they saw their forms.

For majestic beings born of flame were now attacking the orcs, trolls, and goblins as though their mere existence were an affront.

A blazing eagle.

A giant ever burning lion

Even a serpent of unending flame.

The enemy stood no chance. 

The beasts tore through the battlefield and burned all in their path. 

From the skies Harry/Lómion could tell that the serpent was being ESPECIALLY vicious.

In one sweep it had decimated hundreds of orcs. 

It was moving so fast through the valleys and mountains that the orcs didn't have any time to flee.

But he didn't stop.

He kept pouring more of his magic.

Fiendfyre was a spell that could decimate and destroy but only based on how much power you put into it. 

Focus was essential.

So he kept re-chanting the spell. 

He spoke the spell so many times his wand could practically be considered a flamethrower. 

The power of the elder wand boosted the spells power a hundred fold. 

Of course Prongs was left unaffected by the flames as both beings were made from the same magic.

'Alright now for the coup de grâce'

"Fiendfyre!"

"Come forth Phoenix!"

What all saw that night would be something they would recall until the end of Arda. 

For rising from the sea of flames was a being that seemed the embodiment of fiery justice.

A being that was bright as the fruit of Laurelin.

It lit the night as though it were day.

The orcs that had been misfortunate enough to be close to it were now melting from the intensity of its heat.

It had the wings of a bird and was bigger than any of the fire beings that were still decimating the enemy forces.

In that hour the armies of Morgoth realized one thing.

They had lost.

"Go Phoenix!"

"Burn all the evil in your path!"

"Don't stop here!"

"Burn all the enemies that try to escape!"

"SHOW THEM TRUE FIRE"

The blazing Fiendfyre phoenix forged from his magic heard their conjurers command and responded with a mighty cry.

"Kee-eeeee-arr"

One that was heard across all of the Fëanorian territories before going forth to fulfill their masters orders.

All the while the two balrogs that were guarding Glaurung looked like they wanted to run.

And they most certainly would have if not for the fact that death was after them.

The two balrogs were armed with their signature whips and flaming swords.

Though such weapons were useless for the wizard that flew above them and disarmed them with his signature spell. 

'Merlin I've missed using this spell'

"Expelliarmus"

The signature red sparks erupted from the elder wand and disarmed one of the balrogs in a flash.

He didn't give the other one time to counter as he maneuvered away from it. 

Still completely unseen to the corrupted umaia. 

He cast the spell again.

"Expelliarmus"

Once again the beast was disarmed, it's whip and sword flying out if it's clawed hands. 

The dragon was now clearly panicked and was spouting what sounded like hissed curses.

'Don't worry scaly, I'll get you in a minute'

As for you two.

You're finished.

"Reducto"

"Confringo"

"Bombarda Maxima"

In a blast of seemingly arcane magic the two Balrogs violently EXPLODED.

One's head was completely blown up, not a trace of it left to speak of as it's headless body slumped to the charred earth.

The second had a gaping hole in its chest while one of its arms had also been blasted right off. 

The mercilessly maimed umaia making a final desperate attempt to try and reach for the one that had attacked it.

Though its efforts would be fruitless as the dark fires that made up their body extinguished and the lifeless husk now fell at Glaurung's feet.

The father of dragons was furious. 

An actual voice now coming from it's disgusting fork-tongued mouth as Harry/Lómion hovered over the creature. Even now still not getting a good look at it. 

"WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"WHERE ARE YOU, YOU COWARD!"

"Thou dareth attack the Father of Dragons!"

"I am Gold-Worm"

"I am fire"

"Show thy self and face thy end!"

An interesting statement considering the ugly thing decided to start breathing its fire all over the place. 

Harry/Lómion's casting of a silent "Protego Maxima" kept him well protected from the flames while still being hidden. 

'Interesting to be named Gold-worm when you consider he's like an overgrown horned-chameleon.

'Though rather than green he's significantly plated and looks more like a bronzish gold....wait chameleon'

'That's how that rat snuck up on Niënor and cursed her! The book said he could turn grey or something...oh well you look at that'

Right before Harry/Lómion's eyes the Father of Dragons had apparently gotten impatient and tried to flee by indeed changing colors. His scaly serpentine body becoming near translucent when his body shifted to a greyish shade that seemed to somewhat cloak him.

Well cloak him from most. 

All Harry/Lómion had to do was......

.......

........

.........

..huh?

Everything went blank.

His heart and blood froze. 

Something was wrong.

Warrior instincts took over as he shot an overcharged "Incarcerous" at the fleeing lizard. The monster seeming to have gained a good distance due to his distraction.

Though any lead it gained soon proved for naught.

Thick Black chains appeared from seemingly nowhere and tightly wrapped themselves around the creature.

The monster tried to use his cursed voice to sway their attacker but it would not work as the Master of Death cast a "Silencio" on the beast while casting a "Salvo Hexia" on himself.

Curses and songs now utterly useless. 

The dragon was now clearly panicked and in a desperate bid for survival shot flames out of its mouth to where Harry/Lómion still stood in shock.

But once again it would not work. 

For when the flames came right for him he now spoke with his actual voice.

A voice laced with such cold steel it sent a wave of fear through the supposed horrible lizard as the flames split into walls of rising fire. 

"Partis Temporus"

And there standing in the center as though they were the coming of the end was a dark figure hooded in shadow. The only thing visible to the now trembling Glaurung....

......were deep glowing green eyes.  

Their steady approach seemingly signaling the count down to death.

'It cannot be'

He took another step.

'No.....no....it just can't....'

He stepped even closer.

'This....this....is'

He was almost there.

The image becoming clearer.

'Oh gods...what has he done....this is....this is.....'

'An abomination'

He was right in front of Glaurung.

His emerald orbs now stared right into the dragon's slitted pupils.

'So it is true'

'I wasn't wrong'

'The eyes are the windows to the soul'

His black armored hands came up.

The dragon was clearly thrashing. 

The fires were still burning. 

The black clad being with unnatural glowing eyes touched Glaurung's face. 

The same being that had reduced the greatest creation of Morgoth to a quivering mess. 

But what they spoke next left Glaurung frozen.

"You have no soul"

With their hands still on the beast, their eyes still glowing, and radiating a power that was naught but death. 

The hooded figure gazed at Glaurung with what looked like.......

.......pity(?)

"You have no soul"

"There's nothing inside you that is actually yours"

"You believe yourself to be your own being but you are naught but the fractured remnant of a Vala gone mad"

"It's over....there's truly no salvation now"

"Ha....."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

"MORGOTH YOU CRAVEN MONSTER!"

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"HOW DARE YOU MAKE THIS LIE!"

"You hapless fool"

"There can only be one path left now"

He pulled his hands away from Glaurung.

The fires still burned and created a scene that could have mimicked the world's ending. 

Glaurung could do nothing.

The Father of Dragons still unable to pull their gaze from the being before them.

"You have been so horribly deceived"

He would not use magic.

"You have no true will"

He took a step back.

"You cannot know love"

He unsheathed Anguirel.

"That's why your race left not but curses and desolation in their wake" 

The blade darkly gleamed in the light of the flames. 

"You cannot know friendship"

He stepped towards the dragon's neck.

"He put the worst of himself in you" 

Glaurung thrashed again in vain when he saw their approach. 

"You will never be satisfied and only destroy"

He raised the sword.

"I cannot let you do that for I know what misery you would unleash"

They looked into each other's eyes one last time. 

Before in a voice of pity and anger he said. 

"So this is the only mercy I can give you. I don't know where this piece will go but I hope you find peace"

"Goodbye"

He swung down the sword.

"Thud"

Glaurung's severed head fell to the ground. The creature's corrupted black blood was dripping into the earth as the flames continued to burn. 

Though there would be no body to find and there would be no blood to clean. For with a silent wave of his free hand the Master of Death made the body of the soulless artificial lifeform disappear into nothingness. 

"Evanesco"

The traces of their existence and defilement of the natural order vanishing into memory. 

For now Glaurung the Father of Dragons was gone and would never plague the world again.

Not him or the piece of Morgoth that went with him......

He thinks about three hours passed. The elven forces still mostly within the boundary. He'd sent off quite a few more Incendio's into the sky that crashed below as giant fireballs. The spell luckily taking very minimal magic to cast. By now the Finedfyre had spread across all the Fëanorian territories and were decimating the enemy forces. The phoenix apparently took delight in grabbing the occasional troll and dropping it into the river of fire the snake left in its wake.

I suppose everyone has their odd quirks..

His connection to the stone giants telling him that all five were still operational.

Strange.. I'd have thought at least one of them would've been taken down by now....(By what?!🤯)

Hmph, guess this is what happens when you dont have a proper commander. 

Though to be fair he wasn't much of a genius at the moment either. Given he was firing "Incendio's" and "Sectumsepra's" at totally random targets. Though a huge army certainly made for a low miss rate. He definitely hit something every time he fired a spell from his broom. 

By his count about six balrogs were dead, one got killed from the barrier in Hithlum, and less than a third of the enemy forces remained. 

Prongs doing quite the good job of popping those ugly trash bags like bubble wrap. 

After Prongs was done with the Gap, he'd taken to following Harry/Lómion through his magic signature. For each territory he flew to following his slaying of Glaurung Prongs followed like a beacon. Though of course said beacon was anything but a liability given the number of enemies that fell to his light and the Fiendfyre that followed their magic born brother. 

All the armies seemed to be doing well and by the time he'd soared over Thargelion and spread his magic fire to torch the enemies like garbage in a landfill, the tide of the battle seemed to be in their favor. 

After that he headed west, he had steadily made his way to the Fen of Serech to make sure Finrod still got rescued by Barahir. If the wall of spears and blonde circlet wearing male prince charming were any indication, than Harry/Lómion was pretty sure he'd been successfully rescued. 

Hmm the guy with the brown beard must be Barahir.

I could literally see that head of blonde from several leagues in the air.

He's in the middle of a brawl and he's still shiny. 

That's does it. 

Finrod I hereby dub thee "Prince Sparkles" or "The Sparkly cousin."

Honestly, how moths don't go after him all the time is beyond me.

Aegnor is most definitely not that shiny. 

Now to do deal with these ugly blighters.

With Finrod and Barahir now out of range there was a text from the book Harry/Lómion found he couldn't quite let go of seeing as it was happening right in front of him. 

"In F.A. 455, Barahir fought in the Dagor Bragollach at the Pass of Sirion. Near the Fen of Serech, he hastened to Finrod Felagund's rescue with a small retinue of his bravest men. They formed a wall of spears around the Elven King, and cut their way out of the battle at great loss"

Great loss huh...

Yeah no.

Prongs! Sick'em boy!

And just like that Prongs made his appearance and charged right for the orcs that were about to kill the last of Barahir's men. Harry/Lómion also taking the chance to fire several silent "Confundus" charms at the distracted orcs from the air.

The men probably looking stunned that a giant white stag had just saved them.

Harry/Lómion may have been too late to save some of them but he could save others if that was within his power. 

Of course such information would not reach the ears of King Felagund until AFTER he had already sworn his oath to Barahir and given him the ring. 

Although Finrod, being who he is, would just take it all with good stride and simply count it as a small blessing. 

He would not hear who that deer actually belonged to until much later. 

-------------

After the whole Barahir business was done. He supposes he spent about a few minutes just watching the progress of the battlefield from high up in the air. A surge of emotion to his relatives through their bond showed that most of them were still within the boundary of the primary barrier. 

Well except Maedhros who seemingly wanted to try out the new sword. Though Harry/Lómion could tell he was doing fine. If anything the eldest Fëanorian seemed a little...excited(?).

Well whatever.

If he were being honest he really did just need these few minutes to try and clear his head. 

The sanctity and quiet of the skies were always his friend. The gift of flying truly a gift for all wizards. Well mostly, if the whole place wasn't covered with ash. Ash that was the result of his magic, rather than the "Fires of Morgoth." It did hurt to see Dorthonion burning though. Those fires actually were the orcs.

Well better empty fields than people....

Though he couldn't see a balrog yet, but then again everything was on fire so that would have been tricky to tell at this point. 

Tch that monster probably thinks most of the fires are his. 

Let him than it'll be all that sweeter later.

If there was anything he'd learned this night it was that whatever was left of Melkor was truly gone. The thing in Angband was a pathetic husk of what it once was and clearly would only get worse. This was worse than anything Voldemort had ever done. 

Oh no.

Now this was personal.

Creating a cheap excuse of a being by using his own ëalar. 

All I saw were pieces of Morgoth and not the light of a sentient existence. 

Even Huan or just random birds have their own soul...but that?

That thing was a walking curse, a defilement against life and even death.

Even Tom made me a horcrux on accident, but then he'd gone and turned a snake into one??

But both instances were ones where an existing soul was already present but this leech tried to make a body move by implanting a piece of themselves! 

This was beyond sick and depraved.

Just what was wrong with that wretch?!

Best case that broken piece will end up in the in-between or worse....

Tom Riddle, the fool who feared death to the point he eternally damned himself, will never reach the afterlife. 

Even I can't save him because they've broken the taboo so profoundly.

Never mind I know they'll just do it again. 

I may not have looked directly at Morgoth but I know his ëalar was completely polluted.

....I should have realized from the signs.

The moment I really looked at that thing I felt a tsunami of filth all over me. 

My domain, the laws of death have been completely spat on. 

I hate this....

Why does this keep happening.....

I hate that I can't really talk to anyone about this....

I miss my friends....

Ron....

Hermione.....

I miss you....

But this was not the time, nor was it the place. Prongs seemed to be noticing his unease and tried to comfort Harry/Lómion as best they could through their bond. It did work to some extent but for some reason the stag suddenly went quiet. From what Harry/Lómion could tell Prongs seemed....curious? Happy?

Hmmm maybe he found something pretty (🤭).

Oh well. 

It's time to finish this. 

Dear Merlin, I hope this works. 

For all the power the wizard and Master of Death held there was one he was going to need more than any other. The battle had been clearly won but soon enough Morgoth would realize that he had lost. The dark lord would realize that his balrogs and dragon had been killed by some strange being. The hunt would never cease. The battles would get fiercer. If Morgoth didn't think he'd won tonight than his gates would seal and the Silmaril quest would never happen. 

Not all the magical aid in the world would get Beren into Angband without him being aware of a wizard helping him. 

Elrond and Elros would never be born. 

The line of Dior would never come to be.

The Valar might never come. 

Even Eärendil might never be born if events did not proceed as they were originally intended. 

He knew better than anyone how changing the past by even a small margin could have a tidal wave of effects for what meant to be.

The future would change and that could not be allowed. 

If what he had planned was going to work than every ounce of his power would be needed.

There could be no mistakes.

Even if it were his previous life he would have though the idea completely daft.

But now...

Now it was different...

Even if it's not the Lily Patch...please please let this work. 

I know I've been asking a lot, but please just one more time.

One more time. 

Please help me. 

With his hair the purest starlight silver and eyes the deepest emerald he called forth for help.

He reached for his connection with the keeper of the sacred fire. 

Within the depths of his fëa he felt the pull and where once was the shrouded night covered in fire.

Was light.

The Pillar of Light that had broken the Doom of Mandos had returned and from the light came the voice.

The voice of Eru Ilúvatar.

The voice of the one that was now heard by the Master of Death who become ensconced in a light brighter than ever before. 

A light so brilliant and more profound than any seen across the whole of Eä.

For it stretched all the way to the Timeless Halls.

"Hello again"

"Harry Potter"

'!'

'You said my name'

"Yes little one, indeed for that is thy name as is Maeglin Lómion"

"It's..it's been so long"

"That it has little one but thou have changed and for the better I see"

When Harry Potter now Maeglin Lómion heard those words, nothing could have stopped him from recalling the warmth and love of all the family he'd known in this life.

Their worry.

Their love.

Their wish to help him.

Their desire to make him happy.

All things he'd never truly known and would have missed had he not reached out.

All the good times.

All the affection.

All the quiet nights.

All the heartfelt words. 

All the bonds. 

Goodness even these small talks with the deity brought a warm sense of joy for him.

Eru seemed to have heard that thought and in a blink his ears were enraptured by the sound of a bell like giocoso. The sound so beautiful he could not help but smile.

"Thou are a sweet child little twilight"

"I know what it is thou seek to do and am pleased thou have sought me out"

"For my aid you shall have this night"

"To change the music yet maintain the scale and pitch of what was set"

"However thou must know that what is be done can only be done this one time"

"When all has been done and the music set to its proper place thou shall have no need of this power again"

"I promised that all would be well, and while some notes shall be changed all will proceed as was intended"

"You have done so well little one and by leave of thy own kindness has a better path been opened to many"

"Fear not reaching out to me little istar for I am here and will not cast thy hand away"

He was barely holding back the urge to cry. 

It felt so warm.

His heart felt like it wanted to scream for all the longing he'd felt these past years and seek comfort from someone he knew would understand. 

Eru perceived those feelings and Harry/Lómion now felt a warmth like no other engulfing his whole being. 

It felt like someone was hugging him so close.

It felt like someone was comforting him with naught but a tender warmth.

So much so it felt like someone was gently cradling his fëa and speaking soft words to it.

He felt unseen hands wiping the few tears that had escaped.

"They are proud of you sweet boy"

"All the ones that you long for, they are proud of you"

"They are happy that thou have accepted this new chance"

"For it is yours to do with as you like"

"They have not stopped loving you for they never truly left you"

"Remember my words little Istar"

"Thou are not alone"

"Not in this life or the last"

Now he was truly crying. 

Now it felt like his heart was going to burst. 

The warm presence still holding him and wiping his tears. 

It felt like a deep seated nail had finally been pulled out. 

He felt so much lighter and now he could do what needed to be done. 

"Tis time little one"

"Yes"

Across the hills and rolling fields the Lily Patch began to glow.

A pure white glow that was akin to the flowers of Telperion.

But it did not stop there.

The flowers grew brighter.

And brighter!

So much so that specks of stardust now began to rise.

The cacophony of Lily flowers in the east became the new moonlight.

Their light getting brighter until they lit nearly the whole of the north eastern territories.

While in the west all of Hithlum saw the pillar shine with even more radiance.

It was growing.

It was spreading.

And the reason was about to be known.

For the Master of Death now chanted the spell that would ensure that Morgoth would be never know of the victory won this night.

"Thou who chose the path of hate and darkness be now trapped in thy own illusion"

"Thou who have been defeated this night, forever know not the truth of this hour"

"Remember not the name of thy slayer nor hither for perceive their presence"

"Be trapped in the delusion of thine own mind of what once was but will never be"

"Be now the puppet that follows the strings for no other path can there ever now be"

"To all those who seek to harm only perceive what shall not mar"

"By the Power of the Sacred Fire"

"And by the authority of Death's Master"

"Let none defy thy rule of this hour"

"So I sayeth!"

"So moot it be!"

Now

"OBLIVIATE"

The light of the pillars grew and spread. 

It spread all across Hithlum.

All across the seized lands of Dorthonion.

And across the lands of the east.

The light did not stop.

It was heading North.

In the blink of an eye all the foul monsters of Angband and their evil master Morgoth were swallowed by the light.

Their minds now cast into the region wide obliviate.

Now and until the War of Wrath would Morgoth and all his ilk never know of Harry/Lómion's existence.

Nor would they know they had lost this fight.

They would not dwell on the loss of the Balrogs.

They would not remember the existence of the white stag nor come to know of it.

They would think they had seized the Gap and beyond but not approach.

They would think they had killed many elves when in fact they did not.

They would not perceive and they would not come to know.

Because now their minds were all trapped in the illusion of the original song.

Puppets now cursed to play their tune. 

And as the pillar of light and the Lily patch began to recede their glow.

In the sky where all but Morgoth's ilk could see.

From Aman to Arda.

From Beleriand to the Eastern Lands of Eriador.

There in the breaking clouds and the twilight sky......

Was the sign of the Deathly Hallows.

But this would not be the end to the tale this night.

For the mark in the ever reaching heavens had in fact been seen by one who knew what it meant. 

One who would see the owner of the mark fall from the sky.

One who would rush to their side and see them slow their fall with a magic they had seen before.

One who knew the origin of the stag they now ran alongside.

And one who's story would be changed forever.

.....

.......

......

.......

His head hurt.

His vision was hazed.

His body felt heavy.

He felt exactly as he did after that disastrous quidditch tournament in his third year. 

A higher fall and an even nastier feeling.

Of course I had to do that while I was airborne.

I truly am an idiot.

His eyes may have been slightly open but he couldn't actually see very well.

His head was still spinning.

He doesn't know how long he's been out but he could tell he wasn't wearing his armor nor was he outside anymore.

Didn't seem like he was a prisoner though because he almost certainly felt the itchiness of bandages on his head; albeit crudely done.

It didn't feel like he was restrained either given he could feel himself lying on what felt like a fur pelt.

Where the bloody hell am I?

...

Wait

Is this?

Finally his vision cleared a bit and it was then he was able to make out what looked like a white gold ceiling. 

Through his peripheral vision he could see ornate pillars decorating what looked like some kind of fancy room.

A room he was slowly beginning to recognize.

Given he might have ransacked it a few months ago.

He was in Minas Tirith.

With great struggle he was able to turn himself onto his side.

Only now could he see that his cloak was in fact folded up right by him. 

His armor now stacked by the adjacent wall. 

But how?

"Woof!"

.......

......

......What?

"Woof Woof!"

With a speed he probably shouldn't have moved Harry/Lómion looked behind him.

.......

.......

No....

No way.....

"Woof!"

He breathed such a deep breathe.

Memories long past.

All of them together.

So many happy times.

Friends that were missed.

How?

How are you here??

What came sprinting towards his arms and started licking his face.

Was a Patronus.

Not Prongs.

But a Jack Russel Terrier.

One that could only be conjured by someone who was.....

Loyal

Brave

Protective

The embodiment of a true friend. 

"How?"

This patronus belonged to one who was long gone.

So how....

"Harry?"

He looked up.

No.....

It can't be......

"Harry, it is you....."

I know that voice.

Who stood before him may have been a maia but he knew that ginger hair and those eyes anywhere. 

It's really you..

"Ron"