Heritage

Heritage
By Queencyane
(HP/LoTR crossover)
Rated: R (so I am free to go wherever the story may take me)

Chapter One

Night had fallen on Privet drive many hours ago. As customary, Harry was given an obscene amount of work to do during, enough to keep him occupied from sun up till sun set. Tiredly, Harry trudged up to his room after wolfinwn hwn his meager dinner the Dursleys provided him with. It wasn’t that Harry enjoyed the work, not at all, but it did him away from the Dursleys from the duration of the day and that was fine with him.

Collapsing on the bed, he lay there for several minutes with nothing but the sound of Hedwig’s soft hoot in his ear. Hedwig, he smiled. If it weren’t for his owl ferreting letters back and forth from him and his friends, he probably would have gone mad, especially after the battle in the ministry. ‘The ministry’ he thought with a grimace. It had been almost two months and he still couldn’t think of it without shuddering. ‘Sirius’ his eyes shut and his brow furrowed as he tried to force the memories to the furthest reaches of his mind.

He rolled over on his bed and felt something hard under his back. Reaching under himself, he pulled out a large white envelope with a small square bulge in it. Curious, he went to his desk and pulled out a battered letter opener and pried apart the wax seal. Sitting back down on the bed, he pulled out the box and placed in on the bedspread. He unfolded the letter and began to read.

Dear Harry,

I know that I haven’t written in a while and I am sorry. Dumbledore has been keeping all members of the order busy. Especially now that Fudge has come to his senses about Voldemort and the incident in the ministry.

Enclosed is your birthday present. It belonged to your er, er, Lily. Your father gave it to your mother when they were married. “For protection” he said, whatever that means. It has been passed down through the Potter line for generations. I thought, given this past year, you could use a little protection.

Keep your chin up, Harry. You are your mother’s son. You will get through this. You are the strongest person I know. Never forget that I love you and I have confidence in you.

Remus

Harry swallowed hard and blinked back tears as he set the letter down and opened the white velvet box. “Wow” he whispered even though Hedwig was the only one in the room. It was a pendent. Two intertwined silver leaves seven centimeters long, on top of leaves rested seven pure crystal stones shaped like a flower. It was beautiful. The silver was so pure that it seemed to glow. Harry unped ped the chain and slid it over his head. It was definitely magic. He could feel the power of it warm his skin.

Stifling a yawn, Harry took off his glasses and began changing into his nightclothes. He stumbled and put a hand to his head, feeling dizzy. Harry shook his head and it cleared, for a moment. The slight dizzy spell was dismissed easily. Since Voldemort had returned, his sudden headaches had been getting worse.

A battered alarm clock sat on the dresser. The bells on top were dented and misshapen as was the rest of the clock. Yet another of Dudley’s castoffs. If the Dursley’s ever gave him anything that wasn’t already broken, stained, or in some ways ruined; he’d die of shock. Harry smirked bitterly at the thought as he set the alarm for the following morning. He felt sort of queasy, feeling his guts turn over.

Suddenly, Harry dropped to his knees on the floor, clutching his abdomen. A harsh gasp escaped his lips as he began to shake uncontrollably with the chills, still feeling an odd churning in his lower abdomen. he felt as though every cell in his body was on fire. It was like the Basilik venom all over again, burning him from the inside out.

Now drenched in sweat, He stumbled to the bed and crawled under the covers, pulling the blanket up to his chin. Huddled underneath the covers, Harry trembled, his face pale and his teeth chattering. His eyelids rolled shut and he passed out. In the darkness of the room, the pendant glowed in a faint halo of bluish white light.

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Thousands of miles away,an ian island hidden from mortals for eons, a pair of dark eyes flew open. “Arwen” He whispered. His voice rippled through the air like music.

The figure sat up and took a few deep breaths. The room was completely dark, but his eyes pierced through the darkness easily.

“It was a dream. It had to be.”

Yet, he could doubt what his senses told him. He felt a presence in his mind. A pull that he had not felt for thousands of years, since his daughter had passed; the pull of blood to blood.