Healing the Heart

BY : Yaoi Hentai Goddess
Category: -Multi-Age > Crossovers
Dragon prints: 23234
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. I do own the plot so please don't steal. I do not make money off of this. Duh...

Disclaimer: I own nothing but plot!!! LOTR and HP do not belong to me or I would have made DH end differently and Glorfindel would have played a bigger role! XD

AN: Hi everyone, this is the first chapter to my Harry Potter crossover with Lord of the Rings. I think that these two fandoms work amazingly well together and I wish there were more out there. This is my little dedication to the crossover! (P.S. Forget everything on the ending of HP, this is not compatible with DH.)

Chapter One: Phoenix’s Wish

Even after a year, the smell of smoke and blood was still prevalent in the air on the grounds of Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Rubble that had before been the majestic castle littered the grounds that were once lush and green and now dead and black with scorch burns. The looming Forbidden Forest was now even darker and foreboding than before as it seemed to creep farther and farther into the abandoned property that still thrummed with residual magical energies - almost completely taking over. Dark creatures ran wild throughout the area and throughout the rest of the wizarding world as the once thriving hidden culture now lay in shambles in Tom Riddle’s wake. This was a lasting reminder of his lost innocence. The one place he had called home and felt safe – even if it had only been a little while – was gone forever. Only one as powerful as the four founders could resurrect the beauty and magnificence that the school once held and he seriously doubted that anyone would be stepping forward any time soon to take up the job. Everyone was too busy trying to hide in the muggle world and save what remaining family they might have to worry about the magical society as a whole or how it needed to be brought back into order. Too busy clinging to their children and siblings- to the hope that there could still be a future for them together…that they would not have to face this broken world alone.

All except him.

For he had no one left…

Harry scanned the scene slowly, his feelings and thoughts concealed behind an unreadable countenance. His once vivid and expressive green eyes were now dull and empty, only a shadow of their former brilliance while his raven black hair was tied back half-hazard with a piece of thin leather he had ripped from one of his old shirts he had been forced to discard. Shaggy, unkempt bangs were pulled by the fitful wind, obscuring his vision slightly and brushing his cheeks but he didn’t bother to push them away.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, gazing over the grounds, lost in thought and memories, but when he finally came back to himself night had started to fall and the cloudy, gray sky had been replaced by a quickly darkening, starry one. Heaving a sigh he lifted his wand and muttered “lumos” under his breath before starting to walk slowly towards the ruins. The familiar fluttering of feathers turned his attention to the large phoenix that was circling his head, his trill of song expressing the sadness that he held in his heart. It was a sadness that Harry felt as well but was diminished by the sheer exhaustion that had seeped into his bones and the detachment that he felt from loosing so much in such a relatively short amount of time.

Offering a weak ghost of a smile, the boy savior held his arm out for the magical bird to land on, wincing as the weight pulled on various bruised and broken ribs. The large ebony eyes peered at him as if reprimanding him for not taking care of his injuries sooner. Harry just shook his head.

“I’m fine, Fawkes.” He said firmly, starting to walk again towards the crumbling entrance. “There’s no need for you to heal me, you kept me alive after all.”

The tone of his voice, however, clearly said that he had almost wished he hadn’t. Fawkes didn’t seem to take this well and gave a moody squawk, that wasn’t nearly as beautiful as his song, and nipped at Harry’s ear for punishment.

“Oi, stop it.” He glared, waving off the bird’s attack with his wand, but Fawkes just gave him a pointed look before focusing on the task at hand.

Sending one last, annoyed look at the fire bird, Harry looked around the remains of the large entrance doors. The wood was splintering and collapsing – probably from the many blasting spells sent at them from the last stand against Voldemort’s Death Eaters – and wild vines had started to weave in and out of the cracks, pulling more as if aiding in the collapse. He reached out carefully to touch the handle to see if he could ease one open enough to slip in, but a loud creaking sound came from the hinges and the wood suddenly gave way, crumbling to the ground and causing him to have to jump back out of the way to prevent being crushed. He quickly put up a shield as the archway followed the door, too much stress and pressure finally reaching its breaking point. Fawkes flapped his wings agitated; distressed by the sight but they both knew they could do nothing.

Waiting until the dust had settled and he was sure that no more stones were going to fall, Harry carefully levitated himself over the mounds of debris and into the cold, vacant entrance hall behind.

Lumos” he said again, this time louder to make the light fill the space.

Scratching was heard as some creature or another scuttered quickly away from the light and into shadows again. The once welcoming hall was now in ruin just like the rest of the castle, its glamour and warmth decayed and cold with no evidence remaining of the many lives that had passed through its walls. The portraits along the corridor had faded and ceased to move as the magic from the school and its occupants had seeped away and were no longer there to feed them and keep them alive. The suits of armor no longer gleamed and shone but were scattered and lay in pieces along the floor. No ghosts drifted through the air, no floating candles or sounds of laughter…nothing. Just silence.

Not stopping to dwell too much on the depressing sight, he pushed forward, heading towards the grand stair case and started the trek up the seven floors to the Headmaster’s office. The only sound that could be heard was the soft padding of his sneakers on the granite below his feet and the occasional ruffle of Fawkes’s wings; but even those small murmurs seemed to echo through the castle and reverberate back as eerie rumbles from the dark.

There was no warning and Harry suddenly let out a curse as one of the steps gave way beneath him and collapsed to the floor below. The phoenix gave a squawk of surprise when he suddenly lost his perch and quickly righted himself in the air before he fell, turning his gaze to his young companion. Scrambling to grab hold of something Harry managed to dig his fingers into one of the creases of the steps above him and struggled to hoist himself back up. He grunted as his chest protested the actions but he bit back the stabbing pain and swung his leg back up to the remaining steps and managed to crawl onto the second floor. Once he was on firmer ground he let out a wheezing breath as his lungs struggled to work despite the fire that washed over his body. For a moment he could only sit there, doubled over and gripping at his chest but soon he was able to breath relatively uninhibited and his vision began to clear. Not willing to let such a small injury delay him more, he grabbed onto the banister and forced himself up onto shaky legs, ignoring Fawkes’s trills of warning. He waved off the bird’s attempt to heal him again and simply trudged on, making sure to be more careful where he stepped.

Finally after what seemed like years – and four more close calls with falling architecture - the two arrived at the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. The gargoyle statue that used to protect the passageway was once again shoved aside, though this time it lay broken against the opposite wall. Tom probably blasted it open himself when he stormed in during the take over.

Poking his head into the small, spiral stairway, Harry looked up to make sure that it was relatively clear and stable before carefully stepping inside. Taking the steps slowly, cautious of spiders or other foul beasts that he didn’t want to run in to that might have made their home there in the tower. The door to the office was gone as well, nothing but ash on the floor. It must have happened after the webs of protective wards around the castle had fallen otherwise the door would have held. Stepping lightly into the room, he turned to let the light of his wand shine into the shadow-filled corners and take in the damage. Of course everything was in shambles, the desk thrown against the wall and the trinkets that Professor McGonagall had kept along the shelves broken. Scorch marks and burns could be seen on the floor and walls from the fierce but quick battle that had happened there, but he forced himself not to look at them too long. He blinked when Fawkes flew in behind him and instantly made his way towards the back of the office.

Following cautiously, looking around incase there had been any booby traps left behind, he headed to the faded and now still portrait of Dumbledore that stood behind where the desk used to stand. Amazingly the frame and picture still held together, worn and damaged but in one piece. There must not have been a direct hit from any spells or the magic of the portrait had held long enough to protect it from the battle.

Harry reached out to gently touch the dark wood frame, his eyes lingering on the face of his old mentor, the once bright paint peeling from the dampness. There was no real love left in his heart for Dumbledore. There was no hatred or lingering grudge against the old wizard…but the affections he once held were nothing but a faded memory, just like the portrait. He had seen too much, learned too much, to really be able to completely forgive the once great headmaster. So many times Dumbledore could have intervened, so many times he could have prevented Riddle’s rise to power if he had just done something…but he hadn’t. He had placed his faith in an ancient prophecy and left the younger generations to fight the battle for him.

“Well…I won.” Harry whispered softly, looking for a last moment up at the old man before grasping the edge of the painting and gently but firmly pulled it from the wall.

He didn’t dare risk too much magic for fear of it triggering some last remaining protection charms or a trap left by the Death Eaters. Instead he forced back the pain of his ribs and heavily bruised shoulder and pushed the portrait aside manually to reveal the hidden chamber that had once held the Sword of Gryffindor. Taking a deep breath to try and help calm the prangs of pain that pulsed from his abused injuries, he held his wand out again and let the light fill the small room.

There was not much left, it had probably been hidden somewhere else before the attack for safe keeping, but there was still the pedestal where the sword had been placed and the small bookcase pushed against the wall. He absently wondered if he should leave the sword there that this was where it belonged until someone worthy of it came, but he brushed it away. He still needed Godric’s blade for a while until he was certain that he could reach his destination safely. After he got there…well he knew that his little trip was basically suicidal and there was no evidence that he would survive…but he had to try and there were still Death Eaters running around. He wasn’t foolish enough to give up any of his protection until he was out of their reach for good.

Fawkes followed him inside, fluttering a bit in place before swooping over to the pedestal and situated himself comfortably, giving Harry an intense look that made the boy’s eyebrow rise.

“What? You’re the one who insisted that we come here, we don’t even know if that book survived.” He snorted, heading over to the bookcase and carefully began looking through the old dusty tombs.

The phoenix gave an annoyed trill, ruffling his feathers as if insulted but kept his eyes set firmly on the bookcase as the young man leafed through them. A few of the books were on different protective wards but most were diaries and journals written by the old headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts, trying to give some aid to those who would come after. Unfortunately wizards were notorious for having no form of filing system and the books were no different. They were not placed in order of their years as headmaster or headmistress nor were they in alphabetical order; Harry ended up having to search through each one before he found the headmaster he was looking for.

“Finally.” He muttered, flipping through the pages of a thick, leather bound book with faded blue ink.

Everard Calautica. Born 1669, died 1752. Headmaster of Hogwarts from 1719 to 1741. Harry knew little about him besides the fact that he was famous and because of it had his portrait placed in many different wizarding institutions, not to mention the Ministry of Magic. He was credited with proving the theory that parallel dimensions and alternate universes existed outside their own. That magic could flow in between these dimensions and that perhaps magic itself existed because of this relationship between different realities. Harry hadn’t even stopped to think about the possibilities of other worlds…he had enough to deal with in his own. It hadn’t been until recently that he found out one of the accomplishments the man had done and how it had been too dangerous for anyone to know about it…and locked away into the Department of Mysteries. Then…he cared. Everard might be the only chance he had to regain one member of his family…the one chance that he had to not be alone for the rest of his life… Even if there was no evidence that it worked…he had to try.

The journal didn’t tell much on his experiments, just things having to deal with Hogwarts itself but there were occasionally the random note or a scribble of ideas in the margins of the book. He had probably written them down when they popped up in order to not forget them but later written them where ever it was he kept his experimentation notes. Most didn’t make sense but a few Harry was able to decipher and grasp what the man meant. One of the major things was that the man obviously believed that once you go through you couldn’t come back…at least not by the same way. That did answer some questions and Harry really didn’t mind not coming back since he had nothing to come back to.

Once he was sure he had read all that the man had written about his experiments he carefully returned the book to its rightful place before turning back to Fawkes.

“Alright, let’s go. We don’t want to waste any time.” He said, turning to step back through the doorway.

The way back down through the castle was a little easier than the first time and once they were outside Harry breathed in a bit of the cold night air. He didn’t even look back as he pulled out his invisibility cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders and pulled up the hood.

“I’ll meet you there Fawkes, be careful not to be seen.” He warned before gathering himself and disapparating from the grounds.

A flash of flames followed and Fawkes was gone.

When Harry appeared just outside the entrance to the Ministry of Magic he had to quickly step aside in order to not be ran into as a few of the remaining Ministry personnel rushed around to try and bring some order to the chaos that had taken over after Voldemort had been destroyed. Thankfully this chaos would work in Harry’s favor and he could hopefully slip in without anyone noticing. He really didn’t want to have to deal with what would happen if they knew he was there. By all accounts they thought he had died in his last battle against the Dark Lord. He would have too had Fawkes not shown up suddenly out of no where and healed him. He wished he had died, really, it would have made things much easier and he could have seen his parents again and Hermione and Ron…but the bird had decided that it wasn’t his time and when he had seen the spirits of his parents and Remus and his friends…but not his Godfather he knew Sirius was alive. Now he had to find him…and he wasn’t going to let a little thing like breaking into the Department of Mysteries again or crossing dimensions stop him.

Waiting until he had an opening, Harry slipped in behind a hurried man and quickly headed towards the elevator. A couple of Aurors were waiting in front of the doors, obviously needing to go somewhere. Harry didn’t recognize either but he thought it best to stay back until he needed to slip in. When the lift stopped on their floor and opened a woman walked out briskly before the Aurors stepped inside. Moving at the last minute, Harry hurried in after them, making sure not to bump anyone or get noticed. The Aurors got off at level four but the other man who was carrying the overly tall stack of papers didn’t get off until the fifth.

Thankfully the number of people still working in the Ministry had dropped – whether dead of put in jail – and finally Harry was alone in the elevator. Quickly going to the controls he pushed in for the number nine and waited. The lift moved, making a low rumbling sound, before it stopped at the Department of Mysteries.

Harry looked out carefully, poking his head through the door to see if anyone was there. Seeing that the coast was clear, he slipped out and looked around slowly not wanting to get lost this time. Heading down the long dark hallway to the only other door he could go to, he listened for any warning that someone was there. There must have been more important things for the Ministry to be worried about than what was down here because it seemed completely deserted. He knew that the Hall of Prophecies had been nearly destroyed in the fight during his fifth year but to his knowledge the rest was still mostly intact. He hoped it was intact.

Gathering himself, Harry gently grasped the door handle before pulling. There was no lock, no enchantment to keep anyone out, but once the person stepped inside they would realize why they weren’t needed. The large, circular room inside was a labyrinth and the moment he closed the door behind him the doors began to spin, mixing up where each door went to. Harry wasn’t perturbed by this, he’d seen it before and he knew how to handle it. Going up to the door right across from himself he simply pushed the door open and looked inside, not bothering to go all the way in.

The room was dark and seemed to have no ceiling as sparkling stars and planets floated throughout the room. He had been there before with Luna during their struggle to find the prophecy, but it wasn’t the room he was looking for. Pulling back out he used his wand to make a small mark beside the handle, hopefully not big enough to gather attention from anyone for a while before closing it all the way. The doors instantly rotated and another unmarked one was in front of him again. Pushing this one open he saw that it was the exit. Marking it with a small circle so that he would know which way was out if he needed to run, he closed it and waited for the next.

The next door opened up into the bright ‘time room’ where time turners and clocks hung on the walls. It was bright and the ticking sounded like it resonated throughout the room due to how many there were. Once again, however, this wasn’t the room he sought. Marking this one as well, he waited for the next.

It took two more tries before he was able to find the room he wanted, and he pushed the door open before slipping inside, taking in the large chamber. He stood at the top of the stadium seating steps that led down to the center platform where Everard Calautica’s invention was still placed. It was just as he remembered it, and for a moment Harry could only stare silently at the last place he had seen his godfather before he disappeared.

He remembered the battle and seeing Sirius teasing Bellatrix as they fought. He remembered the flash of red light before his godfather fell back through the veil. The feeling of cold and dread washing through his body had been worse than anything he had experienced before. Even facing Voldemort himself hadn’t been as horrific as watching the veil flutter faintly before calming again. Sirius had not jumped back out. He hadn’t pulled a triumphant smirk before throwing himself into battle or rushed to Harry’s side to keep him safe.

He could still hear the whispers, even from where he stood, and he vaguely wondered if those voices were from the other side…maybe they were the voices of the different worlds or maybe it was just death that awaited all who pass through. Whatever it was, he knew he had to try. Sirius wouldn’t have left him abandoned in some unknown place and since his godfather’s spirit hadn’t been with the others…he had to assume that he wasn’t dead.

Why Dumbledore had lied to him about the veil he wasn’t sure. He probably knew that if he had told him that Sirius might still be alive that he would do anything to get through and try to find him again to save him. If he had gone through he probably wouldn’t have been able to come back then no one would be able to defeat Voldemort. The thought hurt and made him angry at the same time. Dumbledore cared about the world so much that he was willing to sacrifice one of his students…or two. But he didn’t care enough to tell the kid he was using to fight a war with what was truly going on. He knew the old man wasn’t evil…he knew he had reasons for what he had done but Harry just couldn’t understand why he hadn’t told him…he thought he had deserved that much at least.

The soles of his shoes made a soft padding sound as he began descending the stairs quietly. The sound of the whispering grew a little as he approached the veil and for a moment he just listened, wondering if he could hear Sirius’s voice through them. Give him a hint to whether or not he was doing the right thing or if he was just crazy. They didn’t though; they were too soft and too wispy to be able to make out who they were or what they were saying. Sighing softly, the boy pulled off his cloak and tucked it away in his bag, making sure that all his things were prepared. He didn’t want to take any chances after all. He didn’t know where the veil would lead and he had learned from experience that not being prepared could get you killed.

Reaching down to make sure the Gryffindor sword was strapped securely to his waist, he pulled his hair back again to hopefully keep it out of the way and looked up.

“Alright, Fawkes, I’m here.” He said, waiting for his fire bird companion to appear again.

A burst of flames came from the left and he watched Fawkes circle a little before landing on his shoulder. Biting back a groan as the talons unintentionally bit into one of the open wounds on his shoulder, he looked to the veil.

“Are you sure that you want to come? We might die you know…and I don’t know if even a phoenix can survive what’s on the other side.” He said carefully, warning the other.

Fawkes almost seemed to roll his eyes before letting out a trill of song, obviously telling him to get on with it and go. Harry sighed before nodding and turning back to the veil.

“Well, here goes nothing.” He said softly before walking into the fluttering veil.

The world instantly fell away from him and he was sent falling into darkness, air rushing by his ears at a roar that was almost deafening. Swirls of light and sparkles like thousands of stars invaded his sight and he had to close his eyes tightly to prevent his body from wanting to throw up at the vertigo. He felt like he was weightless, but at the same time weighed a ton. He could hear the whispers growing, disembodied voices surrounding him and not affected by the howling wind as he continued to fall.

Harry reached out wildly to try and find Fawkes, to make sure he was okay and they weren’t separated but the firebird was no longer griping at him. He tried to open his mouth and call for the bird but he couldn’t manage to make a sound, or at least not enough to be heard over the whirlwinds in his ears. Suddenly, though, the air in his lungs escaped and he couldn’t manage to take a breath in. His lungs wouldn’t work, wouldn’t inflate with air… It felt like a hand had reached inside and was gripping his lungs. Feeling panic welling up in is chest he instinctively gripped at his throat, trying to claw at the invisible force to try and be able to breathe once more. Pain ripped through his body, and he thought he screamed but he wasn’t sure as he just continued to fall. It felt like a thousand cruciatus curses had slammed into his body at the same time, all fighting to do as much damage as possible.

Thoughts began rushing through the boy’s mind, thoughts that he really was dying this time and that it was going to be over. Calmness washed over him at the idea and the pain continued to attack his body but it was almost as if he was detached from it all. Black spots danced in front of his eyes as his body struggled for oxygen.

I’m sorry Sirius…I wanted to find you… He thought absently before his mind was engulfed in darkness and he lost himself to oblivion.

Fawkes watched carefully as the small human boy drifted through the stars, the eternal home of the Valar. The Valar were the fourteen spirits who had created a world much like their own and with their powers had tried to guide it through it’s time. They were powerful spirits and it was because of their great power that Everard Calautica had been able to grasp onto their world through the separation of space and time and create the veil. It was their voices that were heard from the other side…and it was those voices now that the phoenix was now going to try and plead with.

It is unusual for a creature of light to pass through the veil. Only four have attempted the journey. The voices questioned together, ringing as one around the phoenix.

Fawkes bowed his head calmly, ruffling his feathers and offering his silent apologies on intruding. Thankfully the Valar were able to probe his mind and read his thoughts, solving the problem of language barriers. After a moment the voices seemed to relax, trusting that the phoenix was not there to create harm or strife for their world.

We understand, your journey here was not one of ill will but one of hope and devotion. They said softer, seeming to take the small human into account. You wish for him to escape your home and into ours. To be placed under our care.

Fawkes nodded faintly; turning his gaze to the young boy he had watched over during his time at Hogwarts and after.

This request is acceptable. We have allowed others to pass through. Your mortal may join our children but it is your other request that is not so easily fulfilled. They replied, the light seeming to dim faintly.

Fawkes ruffled again, trying to show them what the boy had gone through, trying to make them understand how much he needed this. How much he deserved this chance. The spirits paused, seeing flashes of the boy mortal’s pain and anguish, his courage and selflessness. Yes, this soul was bright and pure, innocent and worthy but….it was not so simple.

You wish for us to be able to heal his heart…but his heart is far more damaged than you believe. A mortal life will not be enough time to allow him to heal. He can not be mended. They said truthfully, regretting the fate of the boy.

Fawkes hung his head, not being able to look at Harry while knowing he had failed him. That he had failed to save the boy from a half hollow life. Harry had simply seen too much destruction, to much death and pain to be able to regain the part of his soul that he had lost. Not even finding his godfather would be enough, the fire bird feared.

The spirits hesitated, debating on their words before bringing Fawkes’s attention back to them.

There may be a way…but there is a sacrifice…nothing can be given without proper compensation.

Fawkes instantly looked up hopefully, listening intently to their words and promising that if it was something he could give that he would give it gladly. The Valar thought it over, watching the oblivious boy and debating on what would be the right and honorable thing to do.

The boy was pure, though, and he deserved a chance, this chance to regain the happiness that he had lost.

Very well…it is decided.

Fawkes felt relief and joy rushing through his soul as light filled his vision. He had to give up his eternal life for Harry…but it was worth it. He had succeeded and he knew that the boy no longer needed him. He could rest now

Light invaded Harry’s senses, casting the darkness aside as he felt as if he was falling once more. He hadn’t realized he stopped. Voices echoed around him but he could not focus on what they were saying. Air invaded his lungs once more and life exploded around him as his eyes snapped open.

Harry looked up blearily, feeling people around him, someone nearby but he couldn’t see them well, his vision blurry and his body feeling as if it weighed a ton. Light and sound and smells all over took him at once. Cold seeped through his veins and he tried to move but he couldn’t even find the energy to lift himself into a sitting position. A hand reached for him. He tried to push it away, and to escape the chance of being attacked but a voice tried to sooth him.

“It’s alright…it’s alright little one, you’re safe now…”

Harry shivered, trying to look up to the voice, to make out where he was but his head was still swimming. The hand brushed against his forehead and he thought he heard it swear faintly, muttering something about a fever before gently gathering him against a strong chest. The clothes were a bit rough and didn’t feel right, he felt too small. No one should have been able to hold him that way in such big arms except Hagrid. He tried to struggle again but the arms wouldn’t listen. His head began to swim again and black took over his mind. He barely managed to hear what the voice said before he fell unconscious again.

“Don’t worry little elfling, my name’s Isildur, I’ll keep you safe…”


AN: What do you think? Tell me if you like it! Oh! And special thanks to Vittani for beta-ing for me X3 thank you bunches!

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