Green light meets green eyes, and the world stills as Harry James Potter draws his last breath on earth.
Eternity cannot be counted just like time cannot be stopped. One is never ending and the other forever going. The raven-haired teenager could despite this not describe this moment as anything else than an eternity frozen in time. The only thing that confused him about his predicament was his active mind. For how could it still be functioning when nothing else was?
Something broke as it all unfroze, and eternity got behind reach again. His mind prickled as his body was no more. He was Harry just as he was not. He would have closed his eyes, if he had any, as energy engulfed the last of Harry James Potter.
The raven-haired boy laid unnaturally still on the sand while the wind caressed his skin in welcome.
The seagulls sang as the boy drew his first breath.
Green eyes met a blue sky and life was returned as swift as it was taken. The boy simply stared up into the eternity, much alike the one he had just left. His hands hugged the sand as his breathing evened out. He carefully stood up, his unused legs shaky while his mind was running rampant.
Harry James did not understand what had happened, he had welcomed death and now he was here.
In a foreign body in a foreign land.
He didn’t recognize the ambiance of this place - it was too peaceful.
A seagull cried out from above him, it circled him before flying away towards sea. The raven-haired boy felt something settle in him as it did so. He sighed and turned towards the tree line, feeling the trees calling to him.
His mind was in pieces as he made his way through the forest, it slowly healed itself with the help of the singing trees.
It was dark when Harry felt himself whole again, he had wandered for hours without direction. It was only now when he was in the middle of the dark woods that he realized that he was stark naked and that his body was truly not his own.
Harry wondered how something so foreign could feel so familiar.
His limbs was his just as much as they were not.
It was disconcerting.
It was as if he had reverted back to his six-year-old self, it was truly maddening. He hadn’t seen himself yet, but he somehow knew that he looked the same. Maybe a bit more delicate. He knew this without knowing how, it was as if the trees themselves had told him.
Which was mental.
But then again it wouldn’t have been a surprise if he’d finally gone bonkers, many would after all call it madness to walk towards your own death And he had indeed died as a result, he knew it.
Harry sat down by a tree that looked like an oak, or at least he thought that it looked like one. He had never been one for herbology after all.
He thought of bowtruckles as he fell asleep.
Harry had lost count on how long he’d been wandering these woods now. He had been eating berries and drinking water from leaves each morning. He was properly famished and wondered if he would die for real this time. His small body could not take much more of this, his feet hurt while his bones ached.
The boy was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost missed the smoke in the distance. He could barely see it, but it was there. He felt hope well up in his chest as he walked in the smoke’s direction.
It took hours upon hours, but Harry didn’t care, and he felt himself laugh in joy as he saw the end of the woods in front of him. He would have sprinted if he’d had the energy. The sight of a small village greeted his sight when he reached the tree line. He walked towards the village optimistically but failed to remember that he was still starkers.
Harry sneaked between the houses and analysed his surroundings. He was so busy concentrating on the first human settlement he’d come by since waking up in these lands that he had no time react when a big man grabbed his arm.
The man held his arm tightly and sneered maliciously.
Harry felt fear at how the way the man’s eyes would roam over his body, the man said something in a language that Harry couldn’t understand before trying to drag Harry away. The boy put his heels down and tried to tug his arm away, this only angered the man who struck Harry across the face. He whimpered and felt tears well up. The man suddenly yanked at his hair and stared at Harry with a forlorn look upon his face. It quickly changed to a smug grin. He said something before dragging Harry to a cart and a horse.
The boy didn’t fight this time.
Harry had been stuck in the back of the cart for over a week now. The man who captured him seemed to have been on his way somewhere before he must have noticed Harry skulking around like an idiot. He hadn’t hurt Harry anymore since that day. He fed him and had given him a blanket to cover himself. Harry had during this time learned that it was his ears that had changed the man’s intentions with him. He had seen them after he had struck him. They too had changed as the rest of his body, they were pointy and Harry didn’t understand why.
The man had normal ears so shouldn’t Harry also have normal ears?
He had tried to be smart and eat whatever was given and gather strength, he would need it when he made a run for it. He had decided to do it at the next stop. He could see the forest in front of them and the sky had already started to darken so the man would make camp soon enough.
Harry felt the change in the air as they entered the forest, it felt warm and welcoming.
It didn’t take long for the man to find a spot. He ate and drank a bit before walking to the cart where Harry was bound by his feet and hands. He smiled at Harry before cutting the restrains and gesturing the boy to follow him. Harry did so while looking around, trying to decipher the best direction to run.
He tightened his hold on the blanket as the man wanted him to sit beside him, he held a piece of bread in his hand. Harry sat down warily and took the offered bread and started to chew on it. It was way too hard to be edible, but it had to do.
He froze at the feeling of hand reaching beneath the blanket and stroking his back. He felt sick as the hand explored his skin, he had a hard time controlling his breathing. He felt the man breathing heavily against his neck, making his hair stand. Harry closed his eyes and told himself to ignore it as he could hear the man starting to grunt excitedly. His hands shook as the man seemed to get more desperate, the man’s hand was suddenly making its way to Harry’s front.
It was in pure desperation that Harry used his fist to punch the busy man in his face. It was enough to give him the chance to make a run for it. He left the bread and blanket behind as he ran between the trees. His feet were surely bleeding now as the boy paid no mind to where he put them. He only knew that he had to get away.
It didn’t take long before Harry could hear the sound of hooves hitting the ground, the man chasing him on horseback. Tears were running down Harry’s face as he felt his hope drain away. His small body ran as fast as it could, but it was no use with a horse chasing him.
Harry ran as if his life depended on it, which it did. He could feel his knees going weak and how the sound of the horse got closer. He looked over his shoulder and saw the man advancing. He then tried to look around through his tear-filled eyes while he ran, but it was too late to hide.
He forced his way through a great bush in his way and fell to the ground as he stumbled out from the other side. His heart sank as he felt himself give up, he was doomed.
It was the sound of an unfamiliar voice that made him look up.
In front of him stood a tall man with unusually long hair.
He was looking at Harry with a frown, the stranger opened his mouth to say something just as the other man on the horse arrived. Harry could see the tall stranger draw his sword before saying something to the man. His eyes going between Harry and the man on the horse.
Harry’s assaulter spoke rapidly and gestured for Harry to come to him. Harry looked between him and the tall stranger. He stood up from the ground and backed towards the stranger with the long hair. The man raised his voice and gestured more violently.
Harry knew that he would be destroyed completely if he went with the man. He looked at the tall stranger before throwing himself behind him, beseeching him with his eyes to help him.
The angry man pulled forward a sword and jutted it against them, surely threatening the stranger to hand over Harry. Harry froze as he awaited the stranger’s answer.
The long-haired stranger gave Harry a small smile before turning back to the assaulter.
Harry fell back on the ground in surprise as the man ran forward with his sword. It was the last thing he did as the man’s head rolled on the ground a second later.
The stranger who had just killed the man with a swing of his sword turned to Harry. The boy hoped that he didn’t share the same inclination as the dead man, that he had not traded one rapist for another.
The tall stranger started to speak with Harry but soon came to realize that the boy didn’t understand.
He took of his cape and reached it out to the boy with a smile, said boy shakily took it.
The strange man with long hair had decided to take Harry with him, the boy didn’t bother to try to run. It was pure luck that his plan to escape had worked with the now dead man and it was all thanks to this one. He didn’t know about the stranger’s intentions, but something told him that they weren’t that bad.
He seemed kind.
One thing Harry had noticed though was that they shared the same ears.
Both had pointy tips.
Harry reached the conclusion that it must be some kind of mutation among humans in these lands.
They didn’t walk for long as they soon reached a camp with other people.
Harry felt his heart starting to beat faster at the sight of even more strangers.
His experience with the people here hadn’t been a positive one as of yet.
“Glorfindel, where have you been?”
“Who is that?”
Two dark-haired men spoke at the same time. They looked identical.
Harry’s saviour, Glorfindel, turned towards him. Speaking foreign words again. It was in that moment that Harry realized that he could understand the two identical men but not his saviour.
“Where did you find this child?” One of the men asked.
Harry gaped at the man, he could understand the words despite them not being English.
“Are we keeping him?” The other man asked.
Glorfindel sighed in what sounded like exasperation.
Harry snorted.
Three pair of eyes went to Harry.
“You understand Sindarin?” Glorfindel asked with a frown. Harry hesitated before nodding, he didn’t know what Sindarin was but if he were to guess then it must be the language they are speaking.
“How did you learn elvish, little one?”
Elvish? He didn’t know that house-elves had a language.
Harry shrugged.
One of the dark-haired ones laughed. “What’s your name?” he asked with a kind smile.
Harry blinked, he didn’t know if he could actually speak the language.
But then he remembered that his name sounded the same in every language.
Harry could see Hermione rolling her eyes and exclaiming ‘Honestly’.
“Harry”
The same man who asked for his name spoke again. “Well, my name is Elladan and this one beside me is my brother Elrohir. You’ve already gotten acquainted with Glorfindel”
Harry nodded and smiled.
“Do you mind me asking what happened to you?” Glorfindel questioned with a kind voice, he bent down to Harry’s level and smiled at the boy. Harry felt is breath catch at the reminder of what he had just escaped. He wondered if he should tell the truth, these people seemed kind and he wanted them to remain so.
“The man- “Harry said, he blinked when the words indeed came out in the same language that the other people spoke. “He took me and then forced be to stay in the cart. I had to flee because he started to t-touch me t-tonight”
Harry noticed that he couldn’t speak with a very good flow. He tripped over the words. The green-eyed boy looked up at the golden-haired man who had saved him, the other man’s eyes were cold and filled with something that Harry could recognise as rage.
“He will not hurt you again”
Harry nodded, he knew that.
The man was dead.
“Where do your parents live?”
Harry stilled at the question. “They’re dead”
The dark-haired man who presented himself as Elladan sank down to one of his knees.
“We’re sorry about your loss”
They did keep him, the three men.
They kept him covered with the cape and took turns riding with him.
Harry did not like riding much, he had thought that it would have been like riding a broom or even a Griffin or Thestral.
But he was wrong.
Dead wrong.
He silently wondered for how long they would be travelling and how long they would keep him. They had spoken about going to a river. He had no idea why they would want to go to a river.
Harry let out a heavy sigh. Elrohir, the man who he was currently riding with chuckled behind him.
“We’re soon there”
The boy snorted. “Yes, yes soon by the water” he grumbled and looked up towards the tree crowns.
Elrohir laughed at his words.
The dark-haired man did not lie, it wasn’t that long before they reached their destination and Harry gaped at the sight.
“This is not a river!” He said accusingly. The three men laughed loudly. “Welcome to Rivendell young one” Glorfindel said while the two twins kept on chuckling. Harry pouted.
They sight was truly magnificent, it was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.
Some guards welcomed them, and Harry could feel eyes upon him as Glorfindel lifted him down from Elrohir’s horse. Harry looked down and blushed at the attention.
The three men led him into the building.
Harry grimaced as he realized where they had gone. It was uncanny how medical areas could resemble each other despite belonging to different lands and cultures. Glorfindel lifted Harry up on one of the beds, making the boy blush.
His body was truly too small, he was seventeen years old for merlin’s sake.
Another man entered the room.
“Welcome back, I heard that you brought a guest” The man said with an amused smile. He walked up to Harry and studied him intently. He spoke in that weird language that his earlier abductor had spoken, clearly expecting Harry to understand. The boy looked at the other three men questioningly.
“He only speaks Sindarin, ada” One of the twins said. Harry quenched the urge to correct him. Harry could speak English and parseltongue too. Not that it was something to brag about.
“Forgive me little one, my name is Elrond”
“I’m Harry”
He smiled at Harry. “Is it alright if I tend to your feet? I was told that you had hurt them.”
Harry blinked owlishly and nodded. Glorfindel had tried to fix them up, but the wounds were apparently too deep.
This Elrond started to work right away, he used some paste of some kind and moved his hand in circular motions. Was he doing magic? Harry watched him curiously, he had not dared to believe that magic would work here. He didn’t have his wand so hadn’t even tried. He frowned when he saw that the man’s other hand was empty as well.
He knew that some wizards or witches could do wandless magic but he himself had never tried it. He had heard Hermione mention once that it needed such a control of one’s magic that most practitioners were well into their years. And even then, their spells would be minimalistic.
The pain in his feet lifted and Harry watched the man in wonder.
He didn’t look old at all, and he just healed Harry!
“Can you teach me?” Harry blurted out before stopping himself. Elrond blinked in surprise before chuckling at the child. “I’m afraid that it isn’t something that can be taught” he said with a tilt of his head. Harry scowled. The other men in the room laughed, making the boy realize that he was behaving like a child.
“Do you have any other wounds?” Elrond asked.
Harry knew that he had some small ones littering his body but decided to shake his head, he didn’t want to bother the man. The healer’s eyes narrowed, and his hands suddenly reach out to his face.
Harry flinched back at the gesture. He had grown accustomed to flinch at any incoming blows to his face. The man who had tried to assault him had dealt him many hard hits during his captivity. Harry had learned that the man used brutality to remind Harry of the pain that would befall him if he didn’t comply or tried to run.
“I see that your cheek is bruised, I only want to sooth it. May I?”
The dark-haired boy nodded once, and his green eyes followed the hand suspiciously as it touched his cheek softly. It was soft and gentle, something that made Harry close his eyes and sigh contently. He didn’t react as the man’s hand moved to Harry’s hair in an effort to remove the locks that did their best to cover his cheek.
It was when he heard a gasp that he opened his eyes and looked around the room, searching for danger.
Elrond had removed his hands from Harry and was staring at him with something akin to wonder.
In fact, everyone in the room was staring.
“What?”
It turned out that he wasn’t wizard anymore.
Not even human.
His new ears meant that he was an elf and not one like Dobby. The elves in these lands were very different and Harry had a hard time coming to terms with what this meant. The other elves had been flabbergasted when they’d seen his ears.
The elves were apparently bad at procreating - fancy that.
Elrond, who was the lord of the whole place funnily enough, had proceeded by removing the cape from Harry. He had seen to every little wound on him. Even the bug-bites. He had then gotten a bath, he had tried to tell them that he could wash himself but the elves would hear nothing of it.
He was now lying in a very large bed feeling more at peace than he’d done in months. Maybe even years. His years at Hogwarts hadn’t exactly been peaceful. The thought of Umbridge still left a sour taste in his mouth.
It was as he laid there that he finally realized how far away from home he was.
His real home, Hogwarts.
He had somehow managed to push away the fact that he died and woken up in a new body in a new place. It had all felt like a really bad dream up to now. Not even his captivity with the disgusting man had felt completely real.
Well except for the time when the man had tried to touch him, Harry couldn’t ignore how real those touches had felt.
The raven-haired boy shivered at the thought. He had been molested and almost raped. The memories of the week with the man made him sick. Harry wished that every gentle touch from that vile man had been fists instead.
It was hard for him to comprehend how he had died and still had to experience the malice of life.
Why couldn’t he have just died?
He wanted to be dead.
He did not want to remember those touches.
He did not want to remember seeing Sirius fall through the veil.
He did not want to remember his mother begging for his life.
Harry didn’t notice how is breathing got shallower as his mind trapped him in a nightmare created by itself.
The newly turned elfling was shaking in fear.
His fragile heart as an elf reacted to the wishes of his mind.
Glorfindel entered the room in haste and ran over to the bed where the little miracle laid. The little ellon was spasming violently and Glorfindel felt fear grasp his heart for the first time in centuries. He had decided to guard the elfling’s room and it was pure luck that the ancient elf managed to feel the weak impulses sent by the young ellon.
The warrior elf started to chant old forgotten words as he tried to keep the elfling from fading. They were desperate but powerful and Glorfindel hoped that they would be enough.
He felt his breath catch when the elfling stopped spasming. The relief was unlike anything else as the dark-haired ellon kept breathing. Glorfindel closed his eyes in relief and hugged the little one against him.
His little heart was beating weakly.
Glorfindel may have managed to win this battle, but it was in the end Harry who had to win the war within himself.
“You think we should send him to valinor?” Elrond asked grimly, observing his friend with tired eyes.
Glorfindel sighed. “I don’t know”
The lord of Imladris hadn’t felt such sadness as this since his own wife had to sail, her fëa broken.
Much like the elfling.
The thought of pain within the young ellon made Elrond furious.
“He didn’t seem as wounded when we rode here. I don’t know what could have happen for him to break like he did tonight”
Elrond nodded at his seneschal’s words.
“We shall try to help him the best we can. I will send for Lady Galadriel” Elrond said. The lady may have answers that Elrond did not. He was quite certain that his children’s grandmother would happily make the journey to aid the young soul resting in his halls.
The little elfling would receive nothing but love here, he only hoped that it would be enough.