Ezellahen
folder
Harry Potter Crossovers › General - Misc
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
18,850
Reviews:
37
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter Crossovers › General - Misc
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
18,850
Reviews:
37
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, or CLAMP; None of the original stories and/or characters are mine in any way nor do I make any money from these writings.
Chapter 7: Manuscripts
Disclaimer: The characters of this story recognized from Harry Potter are the property of J.K. Rowling/Warner Bros while those from Middle Earth belong to Tolkien. In the future, two very entertaining characters from CLAMP will also be incorporated. This is a work of pure entertainment and we claim no monetary benefit what so ever.
This is a translation of the fanfic “Ezellahen" (Spanish) by Utena-Puchiko-nyu and Angeli Murasaki.
-/-/-/-
Ezellahen
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
WARNING: This fanfic is set COMPLETELY in an Alternate Universe. There will be M-preg, elves, wizards OOC and much more.
Reading Guide:
-Normal writing: narration
-Dialogue: “Regular dialogue”
-Character thoughts: 'character thoughts' (and sometimes used for word emphasis, etc.)
-Elvish tongue: /"Elvish"/
“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“
-/-/-/-
Chapter 7: Manuscripts
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
-
“Uncle Sidius!”
A small chestnut-haired child ran right onto the adult’s legs. Sirius Black smiled and picked up the child that had brought a bit of brightness into the Marauder’s lives.
“How are you, Neville?”
“Good, play wit’ me?”
“Sure kid. Let me get out of this Auror robe and we’ll play as much as you want.”
Ever since that horrible tragedy three years ago Sirius, James, and Remus had moved-in to live together in an immense house that was not quite big enough to be a mansion but was still large. It had been bought by Black and Potter; the house had belonged to one of the many Light families that had died out during the war, before the Dark Lord’s demise. They had each come to this decision, for different reasons they had all been devastated after the events of that Halloween in 1981; this was a form of keeping each other up…not being alone, being together…like brothers. They were each other’s company in their pain and thus continued with the difficult task that was living.
It wasn’t until eight months after settling into their new home that they had begun to go out and frequent the widower Frank Longbottom. They understood each other, because they had been affected by the same painful circumstances. Frank lived alone with his son therefore they had all decided to adopt him after a fashion. Thus, little Neville was indulged by the four men of the house. For the three Marauders it was very painful and nostalgic, since not only did the child remind them of Harry but it was also strange to celebrate Neville’s birthday in the same day as Prongsie’s.
However they become accustomed to it little by little, it wasn’t that they had forgotten about Harry, young Longbottom simply brought smiles and a certain peace to the house.
It was already lunch time and everyone was coming back home.
Remus Lupin was studying for a mastery in the Dark Arts, since he was a lycanthrope he didn’t have many possibilities for finding a job and he felt like a burden having to be maintained by his friends, of course they often let him know it wasn’t a problem and since he couldn’t find a job he had to let the matter go…for now.
James Potter, Sirius Black, and Frank Longbottom had continued their careers as Aurors. The three of them were the most striking, rash, and experienced in their department…awakening a certain jealousy in their coworkers. James was the most impulsive of them all, for he had buried the pain of his loss in his work, trying to forget. He always accepted the hardest and most dangerous assignments, in which case Sirius and Frank found themselves in the need to accompany him to make sure he didn’t get himself killed. It was for this reason that the three of them got a reputation for audaciousness.
At the moment they were eating the delicious food their elves had prepared. The men exchanged glances after noting the silence that surrounded James. He was frowning, his food barely touched, and seemed to be deep in though about something. He had been in this taciturn attitude for the past three days and the Marauders were beginning to worry.
“Is something wrong, Prongs?” Remus asked amicably.
The bespectacled man raised his head and saw three very worried faces, he smiled crookedly. He was grateful to have such good friends.
“I have decided to visit my old house…in Godric’s Hollow.”
“Excuse me…?” asked Sirius, incredulous.
“Are you sure, James?” Remus wanted to know.
“Yes, I have not returned since that night, because of the pain it caused me to see my home destroyed…where I had been so happy. It is a childish attitude to take I think, not wanting to go back. I didn’t even go back to get my clothes!” He shook his head. “I want to see if there are any clues that would help me find my son…”
The men sighed and deflated in their seats. By now, the Ministry had given up on searching for Harry, believing him dead. However, James had not given up hope, he was sure his son was alive somewhere. They tried to keep the same hopes, but after such an exhaustive search, it was practically impossible that the child could be alive; of course, they never said any of this to James. After all, they did hold on to a small bit of hope.
“If you are determined…” murmured Frank.
“I am. Tomorrow in fact, I’ll go look for any clue to my son’s whereabouts…I have no wish for your company. I need to this by my self,” he requested before his friends could offer to go with him.
His friends exchanged looks among themselves feeling powerless but had no choice but to comply with their friend’s wishes.
-
“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“
-
-In Middle Earth…
- A magnificent white steed galloped at a speed that was not normal for a horse, but this was no common steed, he was Shadowfax the lord of all horses in Middle Earth. Upon his back rode an important figure, the only person he had ever allowed to ride him, the (now White) Gandalf.
He halted the white animal’s trot right before the doors of a small castle which location was unknown to everyone but two people: Gandalf and the inhabitant of said castle.
“Mithrandir, it’s been a while.”
The owner of the greeting was a man no older than thirty years of age. His smile could probably melt Caradhras itself, his eyes were of an incredibly violet hue and his hair, long enough to touch his shoulders, was bluish-black in color. He was dressed in very dark-blue robes, and even so, it was noticeable that his body was that of a warrior.
“Indeed it has, Morë. I have not seen you since the end of the war of the ring young man.” He dismounted to embrace the younger man. “And I am afraid I have come only to request your aid.”
“Anything you need. I will always be indebted to you for helping me.
Gandalf acknowledge his words, happy at young man’s good disposition. This was for the best, for he was sure that the news he was about to give him was going to be quite astonishing.
They entered the castle and got comfortable. The young man had a wooden wand which he used to conjure a teapot and two teacups to accompany their discussion with some tea and cookies.
“About a year and a half ago I met a child,” began Gandalf. “This child lives in Rivendell and has been adopted by the sons of Lord Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. The strange thing is, this child arrived in Middle Earth in the same fashion as you did.”
The dark haired young man stopped breathing, looking at the Istar with incredulity.
“How..?”
“Like I said, he appeared in Fangorn forest from a brilliant white light, which is where the twins Elladan and Elrohir found him. The child has dark hair, green eyes, and a strange scar on his forehead…” he shook his head. “The only concrete detail we know is that his name is Harry Potter.”
Morë’s face blanched upon hearing that surname.
“Potter you say?”
“Do you recognize it perhaps…?” he asked with a crooked smile.
The violet eyes lost themselves in the beautiful landscape shown through the living room window.
“I…”
“A long time has passed, my young friend. The ghosts that drove you here should no longer have a hold on you. You may trust me, Morë.”
“I know, Gandalf,” he sighed. “Perhaps it is time that I told you a bit of my history…”
-
“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“
-
-Godric’s Hollow
-
James kicked at the leftover rubble of what was once his home’s kitchen. A pained grimace formed upon his face when he saw the muggle electronic appliances Lily insisted on buying for the house, declaring that she wanted to preserve at least a small part of her origins. Not that he minded, the television had turned out to be something quite useful to have at home.
He walked until he reached the dining room and was able to see that everything was intact. One could only see a thick layer of dust and a dry leaf here and there from the many trees that surrounded his past home. Everything was there and he was grateful that the house had not been plundered after the events that changed his life forever.
For an hour he wondered through the house, avoiding at all costs the place that he knew would break the composure he had kept up to now. The place that will make him cry those tears he no longer thought he had. However, it was necessary that he do it if only to finally be able to accept that his family was lost to him forever.
Taking a deep breath he entered Harry’s bedroom. The room in which his son and Lily spent most of their days, the place in which that great tragedy had taken place. The first tear fell upon seeing the crib, upon which was noticeable, despite the heavy layer of dust, a few small drops of blood. This was what the Aurors could not understand, where the blood came from, unless there had been a small battle. It was a complete puzzle that perhaps only the missing child could decipher, but since he was absent…everyone thought that what really happened that night would remain a mystery forever.
Sighing and drying his tears, he walked to the chair that Lily used sit and knit, read, or sing their child to sleep with a lullaby. With a sweep of his wand he vanished the dust and sat smiling crookedly at the comfortable feel of the object.
“So this was why you spent so much time sitting here, my redhead.”
He sighed again and started to look at his surroundings. The place, obviously, was surrounded by his child’s toys, photos, and picture frames. Beside him was a small table with a strange book. He frowned and picked up the book to see what it was about.
Memories of an Unexpected Journey by Godric Gryffindor-
He frowned, interested in the manuscript. His heartbeat sped up thinking about what this manuscript could turn out to be. Five months before that unfortunate event, Lily had arrived home very late and refused to tell him where she had been. She had only told him that shed had been contacted by someone and this person had requested her aid in deciphering a great find.
He had thought it suspicious because she had refused to tell him the identity of this person, nor had she revealed what the great find supposedly was. And now he found this. If the book turned out to be a journal written by Godric Gryffindor it would truly be a great find, a priceless treasure.
He opened the book to a random page and frowned.
“What the hell...?”
The journal was written in a language that was completely foreign to him. The calligraphy was perfect and preserved very well, but the words were complete beyond him. Still, something inside him, call it a premonition, told him that the book had a lot to do with his baby’s mysterious disappearance.
Decided, he closed the book and exited the house to apparate to his current residence. Perhaps Moony’s genius would be able to translate the manuscript.
-
“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“
-
-In Middle Earth…
-
Gandalf gazed at his pupil solemnly while eating a delicious cookie. Morë watched him apprehensively; nervous about how he would be judged because of his past. It was because of this, for fear of rejection, that he had not mentioned his behavior in his own world. He was terrified that his teacher would reject him, because he had come to care for him and also because he had no other place to go.
“Mithrandir?”
The older man sighed.
“Everyone makes mistakes my boy,” he began, “and just as we make them, many do not recognize them as such. They believe themselves justified and never consider changing themselves…you did. And that was a very courageous thing to do.”
“Thank you.”
“I think that having to live with that in your conscience is punishment enough and I won’t impose another one upon you. Since you have been here you have proved yourself a good person and it is not up to me to judge you.” He smiled.
“I was afraid…that’s why I never told you anything before.”
“Understandable,” he acknowledged.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Morë sighing in relief knowing that at least this great wizard knew his darkest secret and did not repudiate him for it.
“You still have not said what you needed me for.”
“Oh, right.” He smiled, “I suppose you realize this child is a wizard like yourself and I think the time has come for him to receive instruction…”
“Isn’t he too young…?”
“He is, but…”
-
-.Flashback.-
-
Ezellahen huffed indignantly, feeling irritated as he watched his pet, Mokona, sleep contentedly in the sofa next to him, a small bubble inflating and deflating from her nose with each breath. He watched listlessly as his parents and the other adults trained with swords and arrows around him, completely ignoring him. He was bored! Not even his dear friend was paying him any attention. He grumbled as he crossed him arms and set off in search of his grandfather. Maybe he’ll want to play evil orc and brave elf with him.
He reached the study’s door and after hitting himself in the head, entered.
“G’an-dad…?”
Two heads turned to face him.
“Oh, aiya Mithrandir,” he smiled at the elderly wizard.
“Aiya, Ezellahen.”
/“What is it you need, little one?”/
/ “ ’m bo’ed, G’an-dad.”/ He finished off his complaint with an adorable pout.
/“But I’m busy, Ezellahen.If you wish to play, find someone else. Your pet?”/
/“Asleep!”/ he grumbled. /“Mommy n daddy t’aining an’ igno’ me. Play wit’ me G’an-dad.”/
“I cannot little one. I have important business to attend to with Mithrandir. Once I conclude this I will search you out, now…please let yourself out.”/
Harry sent him his worst glare and left with a wounded pride. Gandalf arched an eyebrow.
“If it is not too presumptuous of me, I do believe you are spoiling him too much.”
“I know,” sighed the Lord of Rivendell. “But there is nothing we can do about that…he has us eating out of his hand…”
The old man smiled, shaking his head.
Outside, Harry watched the training taking place with crossed arms and a dark frown. He tilted his head, thinking how it would so much more fun if the swords and arrows where cloth-toys like his aunt Éowyn had made him and his friends or maybe similar in texture to his friend Mokona, all plushy and soft.
Surprised yells distracted from his amusing thoughts. Amazed, he saw how his mommy’s sword was now a pink flower plushy. His daddy’s bow was sky-blue and had many yellow stars all over it and the arrows had become small Mokonas of every color imaginable.
“Yay!”
-
-.End Flashback.-
-
Many minutes went by until Morë was finally able to regain his composure, for he had been laughing quite heartily after hearing such a story. The Istar was smiling as well.
“As you can see he confessed what had happened in the end. They are simply innocent things right now but theses may not necessarily remain so…Which is why I convinced his grandfather that he needed someone to help him control his magic. I thought of you to be his instructor.”
“Me..?”
“Yes, Morë. You graduated from that school you studied at with good grades as you yourself told me, not to mention that I have taught you much of what I know myself. I think it would be good for you to socialize. Not to mention you would get a chance to use your magic for something other than keeping this house standing.”
“But if the child has no wand it will be difficult.”
“The child is unlike any other, my boy. I know that he won’t require a wand to implement his magic.”
The young man’s face showed astonishment. Still, if the child was son of who he though he was, he really shouldn’t be so surprised.
“If you say so…I will be happy to move to Rivendell and teach the child everything I am able to.”
“Perfect. We leave tomorrow, Morë.”
To Be Continued…
-
“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“
-
Note: Well now you’ve had the opportunity to see a bit of everything; how life’s going for the Marauders and keep an eye out…those manuscripts are important. XD Also a bit of chibi-Harry…And his first use of magic! And who is Morë?
Translator Note: I am sorry this chapter took so long. I will try to make regular updates from now on but well…Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the update and Happy Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates it!
Posting Estimates at my LJ (check profile)
Still looking for a beta reader!
Please review! Constructive criticism is always welcome!
This is a translation of the fanfic “Ezellahen" (Spanish) by Utena-Puchiko-nyu and Angeli Murasaki.
-/-/-/-
Ezellahen
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
WARNING: This fanfic is set COMPLETELY in an Alternate Universe. There will be M-preg, elves, wizards OOC and much more.
Reading Guide:
-Normal writing: narration
-Dialogue: “Regular dialogue”
-Character thoughts: 'character thoughts' (and sometimes used for word emphasis, etc.)
-Elvish tongue: /"Elvish"/
“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“
-/-/-/-
Chapter 7: Manuscripts
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
-
“Uncle Sidius!”
A small chestnut-haired child ran right onto the adult’s legs. Sirius Black smiled and picked up the child that had brought a bit of brightness into the Marauder’s lives.
“How are you, Neville?”
“Good, play wit’ me?”
“Sure kid. Let me get out of this Auror robe and we’ll play as much as you want.”
Ever since that horrible tragedy three years ago Sirius, James, and Remus had moved-in to live together in an immense house that was not quite big enough to be a mansion but was still large. It had been bought by Black and Potter; the house had belonged to one of the many Light families that had died out during the war, before the Dark Lord’s demise. They had each come to this decision, for different reasons they had all been devastated after the events of that Halloween in 1981; this was a form of keeping each other up…not being alone, being together…like brothers. They were each other’s company in their pain and thus continued with the difficult task that was living.
It wasn’t until eight months after settling into their new home that they had begun to go out and frequent the widower Frank Longbottom. They understood each other, because they had been affected by the same painful circumstances. Frank lived alone with his son therefore they had all decided to adopt him after a fashion. Thus, little Neville was indulged by the four men of the house. For the three Marauders it was very painful and nostalgic, since not only did the child remind them of Harry but it was also strange to celebrate Neville’s birthday in the same day as Prongsie’s.
However they become accustomed to it little by little, it wasn’t that they had forgotten about Harry, young Longbottom simply brought smiles and a certain peace to the house.
It was already lunch time and everyone was coming back home.
Remus Lupin was studying for a mastery in the Dark Arts, since he was a lycanthrope he didn’t have many possibilities for finding a job and he felt like a burden having to be maintained by his friends, of course they often let him know it wasn’t a problem and since he couldn’t find a job he had to let the matter go…for now.
James Potter, Sirius Black, and Frank Longbottom had continued their careers as Aurors. The three of them were the most striking, rash, and experienced in their department…awakening a certain jealousy in their coworkers. James was the most impulsive of them all, for he had buried the pain of his loss in his work, trying to forget. He always accepted the hardest and most dangerous assignments, in which case Sirius and Frank found themselves in the need to accompany him to make sure he didn’t get himself killed. It was for this reason that the three of them got a reputation for audaciousness.
At the moment they were eating the delicious food their elves had prepared. The men exchanged glances after noting the silence that surrounded James. He was frowning, his food barely touched, and seemed to be deep in though about something. He had been in this taciturn attitude for the past three days and the Marauders were beginning to worry.
“Is something wrong, Prongs?” Remus asked amicably.
The bespectacled man raised his head and saw three very worried faces, he smiled crookedly. He was grateful to have such good friends.
“I have decided to visit my old house…in Godric’s Hollow.”
“Excuse me…?” asked Sirius, incredulous.
“Are you sure, James?” Remus wanted to know.
“Yes, I have not returned since that night, because of the pain it caused me to see my home destroyed…where I had been so happy. It is a childish attitude to take I think, not wanting to go back. I didn’t even go back to get my clothes!” He shook his head. “I want to see if there are any clues that would help me find my son…”
The men sighed and deflated in their seats. By now, the Ministry had given up on searching for Harry, believing him dead. However, James had not given up hope, he was sure his son was alive somewhere. They tried to keep the same hopes, but after such an exhaustive search, it was practically impossible that the child could be alive; of course, they never said any of this to James. After all, they did hold on to a small bit of hope.
“If you are determined…” murmured Frank.
“I am. Tomorrow in fact, I’ll go look for any clue to my son’s whereabouts…I have no wish for your company. I need to this by my self,” he requested before his friends could offer to go with him.
His friends exchanged looks among themselves feeling powerless but had no choice but to comply with their friend’s wishes.
-
“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“
-
-In Middle Earth…
- A magnificent white steed galloped at a speed that was not normal for a horse, but this was no common steed, he was Shadowfax the lord of all horses in Middle Earth. Upon his back rode an important figure, the only person he had ever allowed to ride him, the (now White) Gandalf.
He halted the white animal’s trot right before the doors of a small castle which location was unknown to everyone but two people: Gandalf and the inhabitant of said castle.
“Mithrandir, it’s been a while.”
The owner of the greeting was a man no older than thirty years of age. His smile could probably melt Caradhras itself, his eyes were of an incredibly violet hue and his hair, long enough to touch his shoulders, was bluish-black in color. He was dressed in very dark-blue robes, and even so, it was noticeable that his body was that of a warrior.
“Indeed it has, Morë. I have not seen you since the end of the war of the ring young man.” He dismounted to embrace the younger man. “And I am afraid I have come only to request your aid.”
“Anything you need. I will always be indebted to you for helping me.
Gandalf acknowledge his words, happy at young man’s good disposition. This was for the best, for he was sure that the news he was about to give him was going to be quite astonishing.
They entered the castle and got comfortable. The young man had a wooden wand which he used to conjure a teapot and two teacups to accompany their discussion with some tea and cookies.
“About a year and a half ago I met a child,” began Gandalf. “This child lives in Rivendell and has been adopted by the sons of Lord Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. The strange thing is, this child arrived in Middle Earth in the same fashion as you did.”
The dark haired young man stopped breathing, looking at the Istar with incredulity.
“How..?”
“Like I said, he appeared in Fangorn forest from a brilliant white light, which is where the twins Elladan and Elrohir found him. The child has dark hair, green eyes, and a strange scar on his forehead…” he shook his head. “The only concrete detail we know is that his name is Harry Potter.”
Morë’s face blanched upon hearing that surname.
“Potter you say?”
“Do you recognize it perhaps…?” he asked with a crooked smile.
The violet eyes lost themselves in the beautiful landscape shown through the living room window.
“I…”
“A long time has passed, my young friend. The ghosts that drove you here should no longer have a hold on you. You may trust me, Morë.”
“I know, Gandalf,” he sighed. “Perhaps it is time that I told you a bit of my history…”
-
“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“
-
-Godric’s Hollow
-
James kicked at the leftover rubble of what was once his home’s kitchen. A pained grimace formed upon his face when he saw the muggle electronic appliances Lily insisted on buying for the house, declaring that she wanted to preserve at least a small part of her origins. Not that he minded, the television had turned out to be something quite useful to have at home.
He walked until he reached the dining room and was able to see that everything was intact. One could only see a thick layer of dust and a dry leaf here and there from the many trees that surrounded his past home. Everything was there and he was grateful that the house had not been plundered after the events that changed his life forever.
For an hour he wondered through the house, avoiding at all costs the place that he knew would break the composure he had kept up to now. The place that will make him cry those tears he no longer thought he had. However, it was necessary that he do it if only to finally be able to accept that his family was lost to him forever.
Taking a deep breath he entered Harry’s bedroom. The room in which his son and Lily spent most of their days, the place in which that great tragedy had taken place. The first tear fell upon seeing the crib, upon which was noticeable, despite the heavy layer of dust, a few small drops of blood. This was what the Aurors could not understand, where the blood came from, unless there had been a small battle. It was a complete puzzle that perhaps only the missing child could decipher, but since he was absent…everyone thought that what really happened that night would remain a mystery forever.
Sighing and drying his tears, he walked to the chair that Lily used sit and knit, read, or sing their child to sleep with a lullaby. With a sweep of his wand he vanished the dust and sat smiling crookedly at the comfortable feel of the object.
“So this was why you spent so much time sitting here, my redhead.”
He sighed again and started to look at his surroundings. The place, obviously, was surrounded by his child’s toys, photos, and picture frames. Beside him was a small table with a strange book. He frowned and picked up the book to see what it was about.
Memories of an Unexpected Journey by Godric Gryffindor-
He frowned, interested in the manuscript. His heartbeat sped up thinking about what this manuscript could turn out to be. Five months before that unfortunate event, Lily had arrived home very late and refused to tell him where she had been. She had only told him that shed had been contacted by someone and this person had requested her aid in deciphering a great find.
He had thought it suspicious because she had refused to tell him the identity of this person, nor had she revealed what the great find supposedly was. And now he found this. If the book turned out to be a journal written by Godric Gryffindor it would truly be a great find, a priceless treasure.
He opened the book to a random page and frowned.
“What the hell...?”
The journal was written in a language that was completely foreign to him. The calligraphy was perfect and preserved very well, but the words were complete beyond him. Still, something inside him, call it a premonition, told him that the book had a lot to do with his baby’s mysterious disappearance.
Decided, he closed the book and exited the house to apparate to his current residence. Perhaps Moony’s genius would be able to translate the manuscript.
-
“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“-“
-
-In Middle Earth…
-
Gandalf gazed at his pupil solemnly while eating a delicious cookie. Morë watched him apprehensively; nervous about how he would be judged because of his past. It was because of this, for fear of rejection, that he had not mentioned his behavior in his own world. He was terrified that his teacher would reject him, because he had come to care for him and also because he had no other place to go.
“Mithrandir?”
The older man sighed.
“Everyone makes mistakes my boy,” he began, “and just as we make them, many do not recognize them as such. They believe themselves justified and never consider changing themselves…you did. And that was a very courageous thing to do.”
“Thank you.”
“I think that having to live with that in your conscience is punishment enough and I won’t impose another one upon you. Since you have been here you have proved yourself a good person and it is not up to me to judge you.” He smiled.
“I was afraid…that’s why I never told you anything before.”
“Understandable,” he acknowledged.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Morë sighing in relief knowing that at least this great wizard knew his darkest secret and did not repudiate him for it.
“You still have not said what you needed me for.”
“Oh, right.” He smiled, “I suppose you realize this child is a wizard like yourself and I think the time has come for him to receive instruction…”
“Isn’t he too young…?”
“He is, but…”
-
-.Flashback.-
-
Ezellahen huffed indignantly, feeling irritated as he watched his pet, Mokona, sleep contentedly in the sofa next to him, a small bubble inflating and deflating from her nose with each breath. He watched listlessly as his parents and the other adults trained with swords and arrows around him, completely ignoring him. He was bored! Not even his dear friend was paying him any attention. He grumbled as he crossed him arms and set off in search of his grandfather. Maybe he’ll want to play evil orc and brave elf with him.
He reached the study’s door and after hitting himself in the head, entered.
“G’an-dad…?”
Two heads turned to face him.
“Oh, aiya Mithrandir,” he smiled at the elderly wizard.
“Aiya, Ezellahen.”
/“What is it you need, little one?”/
/ “ ’m bo’ed, G’an-dad.”/ He finished off his complaint with an adorable pout.
/“But I’m busy, Ezellahen.If you wish to play, find someone else. Your pet?”/
/“Asleep!”/ he grumbled. /“Mommy n daddy t’aining an’ igno’ me. Play wit’ me G’an-dad.”/
“I cannot little one. I have important business to attend to with Mithrandir. Once I conclude this I will search you out, now…please let yourself out.”/
Harry sent him his worst glare and left with a wounded pride. Gandalf arched an eyebrow.
“If it is not too presumptuous of me, I do believe you are spoiling him too much.”
“I know,” sighed the Lord of Rivendell. “But there is nothing we can do about that…he has us eating out of his hand…”
The old man smiled, shaking his head.
Outside, Harry watched the training taking place with crossed arms and a dark frown. He tilted his head, thinking how it would so much more fun if the swords and arrows where cloth-toys like his aunt Éowyn had made him and his friends or maybe similar in texture to his friend Mokona, all plushy and soft.
Surprised yells distracted from his amusing thoughts. Amazed, he saw how his mommy’s sword was now a pink flower plushy. His daddy’s bow was sky-blue and had many yellow stars all over it and the arrows had become small Mokonas of every color imaginable.
“Yay!”
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-.End Flashback.-
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Many minutes went by until Morë was finally able to regain his composure, for he had been laughing quite heartily after hearing such a story. The Istar was smiling as well.
“As you can see he confessed what had happened in the end. They are simply innocent things right now but theses may not necessarily remain so…Which is why I convinced his grandfather that he needed someone to help him control his magic. I thought of you to be his instructor.”
“Me..?”
“Yes, Morë. You graduated from that school you studied at with good grades as you yourself told me, not to mention that I have taught you much of what I know myself. I think it would be good for you to socialize. Not to mention you would get a chance to use your magic for something other than keeping this house standing.”
“But if the child has no wand it will be difficult.”
“The child is unlike any other, my boy. I know that he won’t require a wand to implement his magic.”
The young man’s face showed astonishment. Still, if the child was son of who he though he was, he really shouldn’t be so surprised.
“If you say so…I will be happy to move to Rivendell and teach the child everything I am able to.”
“Perfect. We leave tomorrow, Morë.”
To Be Continued…
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Note: Well now you’ve had the opportunity to see a bit of everything; how life’s going for the Marauders and keep an eye out…those manuscripts are important. XD Also a bit of chibi-Harry…And his first use of magic! And who is Morë?
Translator Note: I am sorry this chapter took so long. I will try to make regular updates from now on but well…Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the update and Happy Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates it!
Posting Estimates at my LJ (check profile)
Still looking for a beta reader!
Please review! Constructive criticism is always welcome!