silmarillihoarder

[silmarillihoarder]

CHAPTER 5

Lómëar felt the shift of magic in the air before he saw the bright light.

It was almost midnight and he just got up for some water. He is still sleepy after coming out of the kitchen and to the entrance hall when he sees the light and when the light faded – James and Mrs. Evans! The woman is bleeding quite badly, her face swollen and bruised. And James – oh! his friend – is looking delirious. His sleep vanishes at the instance.

“Atto! Atto!” He runs to the room next to kitchen. It’s Maglor’s bedroom, light coming from under the closed door, meaning he would be there.

There is sound of chair scraping on floor. The door opened a moment later. “What happened, yondo?” Maglor clearly thinks he had a nightmare, kneeling and holding him close, wiping his cheek. Lómëar hasn’t even realized he was crying. “Atto! The entrance—! He is—! They are—” he hiccups, panicking. The image of his friend, like of his mother that he remembers—

“Breathe, onya. Breathe.” Maglor presses a kiss on top of his head, hugging him closer. “Who is where?” he asks after Lómëar has calmed down.

“Mrs. Evans and James. They are in the entrance hall. I don’t know how. There was a light and then they were there. Mrs. Evans is bleeding! She looked so bad, atto.” He swallows, wiping his tears as Maglor stands up, already moving towards the two unconscious figures on the floor.

He sits down beside James first. After a quick check, “Yondo, move James to the couch. He is fine except for magical exhaustion.” Compared to him, Mrs. Evans – Isabella – is worse. Far worse.

Skull fracture, possible concussion. A few bruised, maybe broken ribs. Her throat is all bruised (hopefully, as she is still breathing, her windpipe intact). And there were other older injuries. Her other bruises can be healed with simple ointment. But for the rest…

He isn’t sure if she will survive going to hospital. They haven’t a car and apparition would be risky. He can feel her magic trying to heal her (he didn’t realize she was magical before now). Maybe he should…

Lómëar turns his head from where he was sitting on the couch beside James who is sleeping. He can mostly understand what Maglor has started to mutter. Some kind of prayer. From what he understands. Atto’s voice has always been calming and beautiful. More so now that he is singing to the Valië of healing.

“A Este yar iqunyë an envinyatalassë i harna, asië malayar, tana ofelmë, aiya, lye faila heri!”

He stared dazed as the bleeding wounds have started to mend, slowly but surely. “What’s going on?” James’ whisper him broke his reverie; he has woken up from his slumber at some point. “Atto is healing her. Don’t worry. She will be okay.” He whispered back.

“You’re wizard too. You both are.” James didn’t question it. It made so much sense…

“Hmm.”

They sat into a comfortable silence, seeing Maglor work. It was almost an hour later that he finally stopped. The boys only knew for the clock struck 1 o’clock in the morning. Lómëar ran to the kitchen for water, knowing it would be needed. It has been years since Maglor last used any songs of power. It drained him significantly, even if the said song was only a simple prayer.

He finished the glass quickly, then turned to James who was now fidgeting, intentionally not meeting eyes, hadn’t done so since he saw the display of magic. Good. It meant the boy-atleast in a rudimentary level- knew about Mind Magic. Must be his mother who taught him. Not that it can stop Maglor if he really wants to get into his head, few Edain can. He smiled to the child. “Do you want to talk about anything or rest first?”

“A-aren’t you going to move her?” his eyes darted to his mother, still on the floor. He really didn’t want to talk about anything right now.

“It would do her no good to move her now.” Maglor paused. “You see, though her outer wounds are mended, she still might have injuries in her inside. I can’t surely tell without proper equipment so better be safe than sorry. She will be completely healed by morning.”

“If you want, we can arrange pillows and blankets around her to make her comfortable.” He added. As if on cue Lómëar was there with some of those. James hadn’t even seen him leaving the living room! For a moment James had thought he had used some kind of Mind Magic. He didn’t know much about magic but from what his mum had managed to tell him about magic, it seemed plausible to be able to talk in your head…

Maglor had let the two children work, watching them silently. They were whispering between them. He didn’t try to hear whatever they were speaking of. He was tired and he still had to think of what to do next. He would contact his brother tomorrow.

For now, he would rest. James won’t speak tonight anyway, that much he knew from the child demeanor. And he didn’t want to invade his privacy yet.

They didn’t talk that night.

He hadn’t bother going back to his room, sinking into the couch, seeking Írmo’s realm.

----||OoO||----

Riddle was angry. All these years and yet one of his tethers to this world was still missing. Not that it was their fault. Despite not knowing who they really were, they were loyal. All these years, strengthening his weak soul. How insane it was for him to divide it so many times that it grew so weak…

No, it was his fault that he left the diadem here. Too prideful he was to think none will dare enter these woods, none will touch that piece of his, and even if they dare he would be able to sway them to his side by that diadem.

But no. someone or something had taken that away. After spending years as this he finally wanted to rebuild his soul. It all went to waste.

Not all to waste- he told himself, staring at the three items infront of him – his diary, the Gaunt ring and his ancestor’s locket. His three other horcruxes. He will get the Cup later, after he releases his followers- oh, his loyal followers- from Azkaban. He would need the Lestranges to get access to their vault and to the Cup. It’s secure atleast- that’s he knew. Unlike the diadem which was missing altogether.

They still have two years to find the diadem. They still have two years to get their hand on the fabled Philosopher’s Stone. He trusted the two’s ability enough to know they will manage it. Just like they managed to get that stuttering fool to agree with their plan. A fool who works at Hogwarts and Riddle had no doubt ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’ will attend the school. For now, no one knows where Harry Potter is, but when he go to that school, they can get his blood for the ritual. They need his blood for the ritual, his greatest enemy that boy is. So, two years it is.

With his weak soul, he never noticed how close the diadem was to him.

----||OoO||----

The morning after Halloween was also a day of great celebration in the Wizarding World, though Maedhros rarely participated. He hadn’t seen the war people speak of. He hadn’t seen the terror of this war. He has no personal connection with the war except for one. His nephew definitely doesn’t like this holiday, it being the one his parents were killed. To be fair, Lómëar prefers celebrations of the Eldar more than Edain. Still, it doesn’t help that he remembers the night of nine years ago.

Minerva hadn’t bothered her friend seeing his bad mood, focusing on the two owls coming towards them.  One was from Daily Prophet. The other one she doesn’t know. To both their surprise, it landed infront of Maedhros. He rarely receives any mails.

“Who is it from?” She tried to read the address but the letters made no sense to her.

“My brother.” Opening it, he wasn’t worried about anyone reading it. Tengwar isn’t known at all to these people. He scanned the letter. While he always intended to let his friend know about Lómëar, he didn’t think it would be so early. What happened to accelerate the timing?

“Are you free this Saturday, Minerva?” He asked.

“Unless there is an emergency, I should be.”

“Then my brother has invited us for tea.” How lovely. She always wanted to meet her friend’s nephew, always has hoped to meet the child before he attends Hogwarts.

[silmarillihoarder]

Chapter 4 (3 is just a fanart)

TW: Domestic Violence (a little time jump between the first scene and the rest of the chapter)

The Headmaster’s Office of Hogwarts is really a marvel both in terms of artistic beauty and in terms of Magic. The chamber was made of white smooth marble and should any Headmaster wish for it, the chamber can become boundless, and it is ever increasing for the portraits of the previous Headmasters are magically added here after their death. The oldest ones except for the Founders are at the highest row of the portraits, near the dome. The Founders have portraits in every few rows, though none of those portraits capture the essence of them well. Maglor doesn’t even look right, the rest he can’t speak of. And the wardstone that holds all protective wards around Hogwarts is at the center of the dome. One with good eyesight can catch glimpses of silver and green there as the wardstone isn’t a stone but Elessar itself.

Maedhros has never seen Elessar in person before. Not the one built in Gondolin and lost when Gondolin fell. Not the one Telperinquar made in the image of the original one. This Elessar of course is the one made by Telperinquar for their cousin Artanis and it is calling out to him, recognizing a fëa familiar to its maker, recognizing the same blood flows in his vein as the one who made it the key to hold the wards. The wards feel so similar to the one around his own war fortress though that one is more hostile for being built for war and this one is a school. He would’ve sung to it, strengthen it further if he was alone. But he is here something else.

Before him, across the table sits the current Headmaster of Hogwarts- Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief warlock of the Wizengamot as the letter bearing the invitation to come to Hogwarts says. The man has a friendly smile as he offers him a sweet-sour candy which is politely declined. If Maedhros didn’t already have a bad picture of the man, he would be inclined to trust and help the man. He doesn’t feel any malice or bad will from Dumbledore, but the fact that Tittaílé was left on the doorstep of an abusive family, all because of this man made Maedhros angry at him. He just knows the little child for less than a year, yet feels protective of him. A feeling not so different than it was with the Twins.

“Tea, then?” The man is already looking distraught on him declining that candy. Taking a pity, “Tea is acceptable.” He has indeed taken a liking in that beverage. They didn’t had these back in Beleriand and it’s not like the herbal teas available in Valinor. Those taste good but this is better.

“May I know your qualifications, Mr…” Dumbledore picks up the teacup in one hand while shuffling a few paperwork before him. Maedhros furrows his brows. He hasn’t seen him pouring tea neither in the cup that is full now nor in his own cup.

“Fëanarion will be good enough.” He picks up the cup, sipping it, keeping an eye on the wizard.

“The documents you send me has nothing on this ‘Fëanarion’ last name.” the eyes behind the half-moon glasses are gleaming.

“There’s nothing I can do about it, sir. Your country’s paperwork only has space for three names and I am not going without my more important ones though none of those are what your culture considers to be a last name.”

“Indeed. I needed to omit to a few of my middle names in official paperwork too. Nicholas did tell me the naming culture from where you are is a bit different than ours. What is it again?”

“Mother-name, Father-name followed by an epessë or lámatyávë. And if given space, the last name.” The cup refilled itself as soon as he sipped the last of it. He still isn’t used to such blatant display of magic. The magic elfs and Maiar uses has always been much subtle nor they use magic for daily stuffs.

“What is your preferred name, Mr. Fëanarion? We are to be colleagues so it will be beneficial to know your preferred name beforehand.”

Maedhros raises an eyebrow at him, “Nelyafinwë it will be. And you aren’t going to question about my qualifications?”

Dumbledore shakes his head, a grandfatherly smile coming to his face, “Nicholas has vouched for you. That’s enough of a qualification for the position of an Assistant professor. I am given the impression that you learnt Transfiguration under him?” He stands up after stamping some documents before passing them to him to sign, which Maedhros does promptly. “Please come with me. Let introduce you to the other staff members. The Head of your department should be there in the staff room too.”

“He and my grandfathers were good friends so he took me under his wings easily.” Maedhros follows him out of the office door. The stone grifiin turns to close the entrance as soon as they land in the hallway.

“Truth be told, Mr. Fëanarion, we are short-staffed as of now. Minerva has way too much in her hands. You joining will lessen her worries a bit.”

“Minerva?”

“That will be our Transfiguration Mistress, Deputy Headmistress and the Head of Gryffindor House. Your Head of the department.”

“That’s a lot of positions for one person.” It is never good for one person to have so much workload, a lesson he learnt after he spontaneously collapsed once after refusing anyone except for his kin take any position of power in Himring. Maglor had screamed at him by the Palantiri and Celegorm has come to stay over for a few months until he finally let go off some of the duties.

“Unfortunately, the last war made many half-bloods and muggleborn leave this country and many Purebloods sees teaching as a profession below their standing.” They reaches the door to the staff room. Just like the Headmaster’s office, it is also in a tower, overlooking the green field inside the walls. The settlement of Hogsmead and the Quidditch stadium can be seen from the staff room window.

His presence gets mixed reactions. Some indifferent. Some curious. Normal stuffs. Until… one of the teachers is looking at him with surprised recognition.

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

Minerva laughs at scene before her. Septima Vector is scowling at her prized pointed hat turned neon green. Severus, though left the staff room a while ago, was displaying pink coloration all over his robes before he left. Maedhros is seated across of her, trying to hold back a smile. She gives him a pointed look but make no move to tell their arithmency instructor anything. Instead both shake their heads. She casts a privacy spell around them.

“Don’t worry, Minerva. The spell will wear off in a few hours. She just has to spend the Halloween Feast in that colored hat.”

“Whose idea was it?”

“The twins. Aren’t they brilliant?”

“That they are. I still wonder though why you helped them prank two teachers.”

The smile fades a bit, “She was commenting on how lowly it is for my brother to let his son attend a muggle school or make friend with muggles, despite not knowing either. And Snape was awful at some students in the hallway – Ravenclaws if I remember correctly. And—” the smile comes back, “I was raised around a lot of siblings and cousins. You would’ve known how fun it is to prank anyone if you were raised around them too, as a retaliation.”

“Were they so bad?”

“Oh, yes. Once two of my younger brothers, the twins, decided to prank Laüre that they were only one of them in reality. Laüre almost believed that he is going crazy, seeing both.”

Minerva is laughing at this point, “Please don’t tell the Weasley twins about this or they would get ideas. How he did he retaliated by the way? Your brother, I mean.”

“Oh, Minerva, I have no wish to tell them about any of the pranks in our family. And Laüre didn’t retaliate alone. Both of us love baking and we made cookies containing mild laxative, then led those two pranksters to eat all of those. We also acted like they both didn’t exist for about a year until our mother caught wind of the ongoing pranks. Our other brothers thought it was really funny though.” He stops for a while, “I miss all of them. Both of us do. My nephew isn’t old enough to remember them. So, it’s just two of us now to remember everyone.”

“Your brother’s wife…”

“Tittaílë’s mother died in the last war against Voldemort.” Uttering the name earns a shudder from the Transfiguration Mistress. He hates not telling her the truth but it’s not a lie anyway. Lily Potter did die in the war; as for Maglor’s life partner…Lantulwë will probably make a female fana just to mess with others. Minerva doesn’t need to know that. Yet. Someday she will learn. One day she will meet Lómëar and know who he really was. Today isn’t the day.

To change the direction of their conversation, she brings out the lesson plans of some upper years after the winter break. Unlike lower years, all students need specialized attentions in sixth and seventh years given their different learning speed and affinities to different subclasses of Transfiguration. And though Maedhros officially only teaches lower years of first to third years, she still gets his help regarding the upper years. It’s good to have a help and a friend.

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

James bit his lower lip to not whimper from the yelling from downstairs. Sound of crashing came followed by a short cry of pain. The yelling stopped but what began instead terrified him more. Footsteps ascending the stairs and pained moans grew louder. Father is coming for him, probably dragging mother by hair. He must be really drunk and angry that he is coming for James. Usually beating mother senseless is enough for him to sober up. Though these ‘episodes’ were getting worse past few years.

James knows it’s for he started showing what mother calls magic. She has explained it all. That she is a witch and he is a wizard while father has no magic, a muggle he is. For some reason, he absolutely hates anything related to magic and that’s the reason he lashes out at her. James has asked her why not go to authority or his friends’ parents. They are always so helpful. Mother has told him about the International Statue of Secrecy and that they can’t just tell everyone about magic. Not even his best friends.

The sounds of footsteps stopped outside of his door. He couldn’t stop the whimper of fear escaping his throat when the door rattled. “Open the door! You brat! I know you are awake freak!” The door is rattling harder with each time the man is slamming against it. Help. Please help someone. Please. The hinges broke with the fourth try. The man’s eyes were bloody red. Drunk. Too drunk. He is going to kill me- James thought, seeing him drag mother inside. Her face is bruised all over. Blue, red, purple bruises. He threw her on ground before the child, placing his boot on her throat, pressing down, making her groan in pain.

“See. You bitch. See how your filthy magic saves you or your brat! Freaks both of you are!” he presses his boot harder. So hard, James fears he will crush her windpipe.

“No.” James manages to croak out.

“What!” James curls up again, still whispers, “Please don’t hurt her.” It’s getting harder to see clear with tears filling his eyes.

The man left his mother and stalks up to him, grabbing James’ hair, “Let’s get done with you first then. The slap he intended never landed. Instead, a solid barrier came between him and the child before throwing him far side of the room and extending to the unconscious woman.

The last thing James knew before fainting too was a bright light and neither he nor mother was in his room anymore, instead in a familiar room of another house. And shouts of his friend, calling for his father.

SOME TRANSLATIONS :

Yondo : my son Onya: my child

A Este yar iqunyë an envinyatalassë i harna, asië malayar, tana ofelmë, aiya, lye faila heri! : Oh Este to whom I pray, heal this wounded, ease her pain, show her your kindness oh you just lady!

This translation wasn't much important so I didn't include it in the chapter itself. If I ever add different language that you guys need to understand it will be written in the chapter. I hope the last translation was good. I am just learning a bit of Quenya and isn't sure if it is right. any criticism accepted.

[silmarillihoarder]

WIP

working on a large project. Celebrill's face profile looks better than expected.

[silmarillihoarder]

Chapter 2 of Parmalassë(oainulindalë)

The cottage was modest compared to the splendor they had seen in their early life. It was comfortable, like their childhood home, with signs of a child everywhere.

The child who had led him here disappeared in a blink of an eye. For a moment, Maedhros had wanted to go out to find the child who was his nephew now, “Don’t worry for him. He has a sleepover with a friend tonight.” Turning back, Maglor was already seated in an armchair, pouring a steaming liquid into two cups before him. He took up the armchair on other side of the table, wondering what a sleepover is, but that’s curiosity for later. He is yet to learn much of this Arda now.

“How are you, brother?” Though the tone was light, Both can pick up the tension in it.

“As good as one can be with all his family dying and rest leaving.” Maglor was yet to forgive him for killing himself and leaving him alone to deal with the Oath.

“Brother—”

“No need to comfort me. Tell me of our kins instead.”

“Did he not tell you of them already?”

“It requires quite a lot from me to talk in our bond extensively. We-we don’t speak often and speak only for important situations.”

“Situations like me returning to Arda Marred.”

“It’s stupid decision from your part, Nelyo.”

“Yet he didn’t stop me. It meant to happen; it had to happen. Both of us know this.”

True. For many of the Ainur including him, all of it was but a part of a larger tapestry. he was but pulling strings, weaving a tapestry none dares to interfere into, not even The Weaver or The Judge, a tapestry which probably its maker himself doesn’t understand fully.

It has been this way ever since their father pulled that sword on uncle and they were told not to stop it. For better future- Maglor is often told by him for almost eight Millenia now.

“It tastes good.” Maybe the comment was meant to break the awkward silence. It only grated on Maglor’s irritated nerves.

“Tea is meant to be savored hot; you know.” It had come out harsher than he expected. He was still so -fucking- angry at his brother, at everyone. Everyone except his children and nephews and niece and grandchildren. Those younger generation had done nothing to irritate him when they were still here.

“Good to know that. I will savor it next time.” Maedhros didn’t meet his eyes.

“Next time? You’re staying.” It wasn’t a question though Maglor received a nod of affirmation. Oh, no. He needed to build more rooms in his cottage then. He didn’t think his job at the local pub pays enough for this…

“Don’t fret over my accommodation. I have already some plans for that.”

“Plans?” No, Maglor wasn’t convinced. Maedhros just arrived here. He hadn’t even his asked his brother yet why he is here or will he ever be able to return to Aman ever.

“I believe going to Nowë is a good option.” The cup was empty by now.

“Nowë didn’t leave for Valinor?!” “He is neither in the Halls nor he is in the lands of Aman. So, no. As far as I know, he is somewhere on what people here calls mainland Europe.”

Maglor deadpanned at him, “Do you even know how big Mainland Europe is? It’s almost like ten times the size of Beleriand and the population is more than 200 times we had there! How do you suppose to find him here?”

“Well, he told me you would know him. I have a portrait of how Nowë looks now.” Maedhros pulled out a rolled up- small tapestry, oh, then it was him who gave Maedhros this to help him find the elder elf- from his sleeve. “Here, brother.”

Maglor felt his eyebrow twitching, taking the tapestry. It was him! No wonder he is so famous. Maybe a short tour would do good. It’s summer break at Lómëar’s school, all three of them can travel, a change of weather will be good before his classes start next month.

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

“You are late. Krist is already here.” Juniper wasn’t happy. It’s their first sleepover this year and among the boys, only Kirstein is on time. Again.

“Sorry, Jun!” He was definitely not sorry, running off to the blanket fort at the middle of her room and physically tackling over Kristein. The poor boy shrieked, earning an eyeroll from Juniper. “boys” she muttered, joining them there.

All three of them ignore her mother telling them from the kitchen “to behave and not to break anything or their bones”.

“When do you think James going to come?” Kristein finally managed to get out of the bodily mass of Lómëar who is suspiciously calm.

She shrugged. James has been a lot quite nowadays. Something was going on at his home and he won’t tell them anything. The adults weren’t telling them either. Who knew if he would even come today.

“Jun, watch!” That’s the only indication she got from Lómëar before the pillow land on her face. “PILLOW FIGHT!” And all of them forget everything else.

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

Somewhere in Albania, the local people avoid the nearby hill and forest surrounding it. People go missing there should they enter it and even from far some hear creepy sounds. Local authority ignores the place too. Gradually no one wanted to go near it again. So people never noticed anything out of place.

A great hideout for anyone trying to avoid being caught.

Deep into the forest lives a man or he would still have been one some decades ago. He was a spirit really. Like those Houseless Spirits, without body to go back to and not heeding the Call of Mandos. But unlike those spirits, this one could still communicate with others. Though others include only a snake and….and….Voldemort didn't have a name for what they are.

Before he lost his sanity, Tom Riddle had learnt of Necromancy. He knows basic of it given he never affinity for this school of Magic. He knew enough to understand the nature of people’s spirit among other things. Knew enough to be able to create another body when the time comes, knew whatever these two are, they weren’t human but unlike they weren’t half-dead either. Einu and Furilumbiel—they called themselves and claim to have followed him always though from shadow. Even a decade ago, Voldemort would’ve killed them thinking they were lying but now…they had been nothing but loyal for these past months. They hadn’t tried to destroy his spirit yet and feed him information of outside world. He knew they aren’t fully truthful. He would deal with them when he regained his body, they were useful, for now.

“My Lord.” The wraith turned to kneeling figure. It’s Furilumbiel. Though the two looks the same – human-shaped shadows, he knew it’s her for her voice, it has lesser…he knew not how to name it, she just felt lesser compared to Einu. The other was probably out somewhere doing the errand Voldemort had given to him.

“sssspeak.” He hissed stroking Nagini’s head, though he had no hand yet, only mist brushed over the snake's head.

“The diadem isn’t in the forest.” She didn’t say that it was enchanted against her and Gorth—against Einu. Like the gems made by the diadem’s maker’s forefather, it’s enchanted though to a lesser degree or it would’ve burned this wraith too.

The wraith hissed in anger and throws some spells in parseltounge at her. Knowing the language made by their Lord well, she knew what they are to do – they are a better, stronger and more painful version of what those Edains call Cruciatus Curse. It would hurt her not. Her Lord has given both of them protection against any curse in parseltounge. Still, it’s not an information to divulge at their tool yet. So she just acted. This weak wraith will stop soon anyway, his weak fëa can’t withstand the strain of spellcasting. Never in her time, she had seen such weak, broken fëa, not even in those they tortured, not in those who waned and faded. How this wraith was still able to talk and give orders is beyond her. She was doing this for her Lord or she would never bow before this thing. Hopefully, Einu would return soon from his errand before she lost her temper and destroy this annoying wraith. Her Lord won’t happy if that is to happen. Einu was so much better at these.

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

“Our cousin is back on Arda.” Ëonwë sighed when neither of two give no reaction. Of course they would feel his return too, but the look on their faces told him they knew it beforehand and would do nothing regarding this, for now. Suddenly he was wishing the lovesick idiot and his ladylove were here instead these two. These two never tell him anything. “I am going to inform the Eldar King.” He continued. Though much more powerful the Valar are from them, the Six of them knew each other and feels each other’s presence better. The Valar won’t know of the return unless they inform them.

“Stop, cousin.” He spoke. “It’s not time yet. Don’t act yet or all I see of Arda is Darkness.”

“Should anything go wrong, I am blaming you.”

“Stop you two.” The calmest of the three has a soft voice full of authority. “Nothing will go wrong. Everything is going as it should be.” She tells them, shutting down the argument it begins.

Cerebrill assured her that the gears are moving already.

EDIT: this version has better tense and grammar than the ao3 chapter. I am not really proud of this chapter even though I love the other ones.

[silmarillihoarder]

Parmalassë(oainulindalë)

So, I decided that because I am in a writer's slump, and maybe some reader's interaction will do me good, I will post the story here (and of course link the work here too.

INFO: Part 2 of Song of Doom AU

Meaning of the Title: The last page of the Music of Ainur

Summary: In what, the Valar gave Maglor a task to raise a child of prophecy as a form of repentance. it went better than many would expect. Except Maemags ended up kidnapping another kid too.

CHAPTER 1

Privet Drive was an odd place, no matter how normal its residents claim it to be. A whole street full of atleast a dozen identical houses can’t be normal, not even by Maglor’s standard. And he is definitely accustomed to unnatural things by now.

What happened to the Edain? They were still fairly artistic only a century ago.

Infact Maglor would say the Victorian era was the pinnacle of artistry in a whole millennium. Of course, he is talking about the isles only. He hasn’t travelled much out of isles in recent centuries or even in the isles itself, not since that Black Death appeared. He preferred solitude over potentially dying and being outcast from Arda. The only reason he knew anything about Victorian era was for that blasted Daeron. That guy had to drag him all over the United Kingdom like he had no other things to do (they both know neither had anything to do at all). Maglor has restrained himself from throttling the Sindar only for he doesn’t want more blood on his hands and a little company is good.

The street was fairly empty given it was noon of a Wednesday. Good. Less things to worry about. He grimaces walking down the street. It was November and the weather is pretty cold. He doesn’t even have anything warm given he doesn’t really get sick from it (though he definitely hates feeling cold. He is just too much into his grief still to earn and spend money on himself). But the child he is to pick up will definitely need something warm.

When Ulmo sent Ossë (really? Did the Vala had none but that perpetually angry maia to send a message-an order really?) to basically order him pick up this ‘Harry James Potter’ from ‘Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey’ (the straightest order one can get from those Ainur. And Maglor still had trouble finding the place while knowing little of the modern England), Maglor had decided to take his time to prepare for the whole thing. He won’t abandon it of course, no matter how he feels about the Ainur and of Edain (The two World Wars reached even him when he was hiding), a little child is in question (he tries not to think about that one time he bloodied his hands with blood of children). Though he has doubt on his own abilities to raise a child now, he did raise his sons, didn’t he? Surely, he can do it again. It’s only for one-and-a-half-decade he told himself.

Still, he won’t be rash about anything again. That blasted Oath of their father was enough of a lesson. He had thought he would spend the winter trying to get a good job and a better house than that cottage in a village of Seaford.

That was until he contacted him two days ago. Through their bond. Urging him to take the child already. It was eighth time the bond was open between them. And much like the earlier times, Maglor followed his urge.

And now he is infront of Number 4 Privet Drive. Somehow the place feels even more unnatural and reeks of blood magic. In itself it is entirely normal in Wizarding world. No, it is the nature of the caster that made him stop. It feels like his magic. Not he being here, like it is one of his kind that has helped in making this ward around the house.

“Ah, are you visiting Dursleys, young man? Did they not mention they will be out for a tour?” Maglor turned to face an aging lady. “A tour?”

“To the beaches. A tour for three days, I think.” A cat—is that a Kneazle?—walked to the lady, butting its head on her leg. She picked it up, “I am Arabella Figg, dear. And you would be?”

“Estel. Just Estel, Ma’am.” Elessar definitely won’t mind using his name. “I will return later then.” He will return in a week to be done with this.

“If you don’t mind, please come with me for a tea. I often babysit their nephew-well, I am babysitting Little Harry right now. I can tell them whatever you need to inform them about.” She smiled a sweet smile at him when Maglor’s eyes lit up on hearing Harry’s name.

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

The summon disguised in a request wasn’t unusual but still irritating. Atleast there is Minerva to share his owes with. She looks positively terrifying being summoned from her extra class for seventh year NEWT students, still grumbling about having a lot of students not grasping ‘the third principle of Gamp’s Law’. How someone can not understand it and still pass Transfiguration with a ‘O’ is beyond him. Those dunderheads were probably trying to conjure up galleons again. He has been telling to be more strict with them just like he is. But, no. Like she won’t fall to his level she had sneered at him. Look at his sixth and seventh years, no accidents at all.

But, for now, both head of house are feeling same towards the old geezer—irritated and angry.

The Gryffindor Head of House was there before him.

Minerva is screaming at Albus for loosing James and Lily’s precious child, for placing him with those muggles when she told him they were the worst sort.

Severus has to bite the inside of his cheek to not crack a smile. Hopefully, those muggles had beaten some sense into the Potter brat and he won’t turn out like his father. And maybe whoever kidnapped that brat would keep the boy so that he doesn’t have to deal with a Potter in a few years.

“Minerva,” Albus still look unruffled by all yelling, “my devices say he is totally fine.”

“Fine? yes. But where he is? You told me he isn’t with his ‘family’ and don’t know where he is! You aren't even sure when he was taken away!"

Oh, this is interesting. Not knowing exactly when he was taken away? Surely Dumbledore won’t leave his golden boy unsupervised.

Albus turns towards him, his eyes glowing, “Severus, please do me a favor and keep an eye on your social circle? If one of them has gotten Little Harry, I would like to know.”

“Of course, headmaster. Is there anything I should know about Mr. Potter’s –” It came out like a vile word, “—abduction?”

A sigh came out, “I only get to know about it when I went to check my dear friend Arabella. She keeps quite a collection of half-kneazles to sell. Unfortunately, her home is sold to someone else as she is no in a muggle hospital being in a coma from brain-stroke. Has been there for last two years.”

Well, condolences for her but what it has to do with that Potter’s situation?

“She had brain-stroke when she was looking over Harry. After I checked my devices thoroughly, it was around this time that Harry was removed from Private Drive as the wards collapsed.”

“It was two years ago and Petunia didn’t even contact you?” He doesn’t add any questions on why those weren’t checked before in these two years. Minerva did.

“Neither she nor any residents of Private Drive know anyone named Harry.” Dumbledore answered him first then turned to the Transfiguration Mistress, “Minerva, I never needed to check before. Arabella always sends me missives about Little Harry. Infact last two years are not an exception. I still have letters from her.”

“How? How, Albus?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head, “The letters even have her handwritings and magical signature.”

“Mass used Memory Charm?” That’s a possibility given none ‘know’ Harry. As for the mails… “How can someone copy other’s magical signatures?” Even muggles have little magical signature that helps identifying them and as far as he knew Arabella was a squib.

“No magical signature present for Memory Charm, my friend. And I have no answer for your second question.”

“Mind Manipulation is next best guess then.” Did one of the Death Eaters who aren’t in Azkaban did it? Was it Narcissa helping her husband? Lucias is still blatantly supporting the Dark Lord’s ideologies and Narcissa loves him enough to help him in Mind Magic, her specialty.

“Then it’s not a singular person we are dealing with or whoever did this is extremely proficient in mind magic. They all lose the memory of Harry around same time. Even those who weren’t in Private Drive at that moment but knew the Dursleys forgot about Harry.”

Minerva has calmed down a bit, “Do you think the Death Eaters did it?”

“That’s a guess at best. Still, Severus, please keep an eye on them.”

It’s not going to be a good year then, with a powerful wild card in play.

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

Harry- no, it’s Lómëar now, or Tittaílë as Atto calls him- loves it here in this small cottage. No one calls him ‘freak’ here and he even has friends to play with—James, Juniper, Kristein. Though he was but a little three years old when Atto took him away from his aunt’s family, he knows he had no friend there, his cousin made sure of that and his bedroom was a cupboard which used to seem big to his little-self, but feels like a cellar now.

He is happy here. Just like he was when he had mum and dad and…and…

He can’t remember what he used to call them, but he remembers a big dog who was actually a man, a very funny man just like dad. And then there was one who was also a wolf though he can’t remember if he had ever seen him like that.

He remembers being loved by them. He remembers being hated by his aunt’s family and now he has Atto who loves him and friends who play with him and love him just as he loves them back. He will remember them always.

He loves going to school, to learn about modern things. While Atto teaches him of the old time.

He loves seeing the sunset into the sea, just like now, he is sending a silent wave to the lady who carries the light of the world though he doubts she saw him ever.

He turned to go back to their cottage, and came across someone with literal fire on his head, a gentle fire like that of Laurelin’s fiery blossoms who used to exist only for a few hours during the Noontides.

A pair of green eyes meet with grey eyes.

“I thought I would greet you first before meeting my brother, nephew.” He looked just like the memories Atto has shown him.

“Atto is waiting for you in the cottage, uncle. Please come with me.” Lómëar doesn’t wait to see if the nér was following him or not. He is here to meet with his Atto afterall, where would he go if not following Lómëar?

[silmarillihoarder]

Chapters: 15/? Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Maglor (Tolkien) & Harry Potter, Maedhros & Maglor (Tolkien), Maglor (Tolkien)/Original Character(s), Maedhros & Harry Potter, Maedhros (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Maedhros (Tolkien) & Theodore Nott Characters: Harry Potter, Maglor (Tolkien), Maedhros (Tolkien), Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Maiar Characters (Tolkien), Filius Flitwick, Theodore Nott, Original Male Character(s), Ereinion Gil-galad, Elrond Peredhel Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Retelling of Harry Potter, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Harry Potter Has a Different Name, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Good Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter Has a Happy Childhood, no beta we die like Maedhros in first age, Canon-Typical Violence, By Canon I mean- Silmarillion canon, Maemags kidnapping more kids, Kidnap family-2.0, Slytherin Harry Potter Series: Part 2 of Song of Doom Verse Summary:

"Some older student took the picture as the 'missing' and 'declared' dead Theodore Nott was present in that particular compartment and were causing ruckus at the Great Halls. I confiscated it but—"

"—the young Nott isn't the reason why you brought it here." Indeed it was brought as one young man, looking and smiling exactly like young James Potter with the eyes of Lily Evans, was sitting beside the Nott. Laughing and probably joking.

"Some of my students told me that this is our dear new Music teacher’s son." Snape's mouth curled in a nasty snarl. --- Or in what, the Valar gave Maglor a task to raise a child of prophecy as a form of repentance. it went better than many would expect. Except Maemags ended up kidnapping another kid too.

Chapter 15 Summary: Sirius Black gets his trial

WC of ch 15 : 5,024

[silmarillihoarder]

Chapters: 13/? Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Maglor (Tolkien) & Harry Potter, Maedhros & Maglor (Tolkien), Maglor (Tolkien)/Original Character(s), Maedhros & Harry Potter, Maedhros (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Maedhros (Tolkien) & Theodore Nott Characters: Harry Potter, Maglor (Tolkien), Maedhros (Tolkien), Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Maiar Characters (Tolkien), Filius Flitwick, Theodore Nott, Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Retelling of Harry Potter, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Harry Potter Has a Different Name, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Good Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter Has a Happy Childhood, no beta we die like Maedhros in first age, Canon-Typical Violence, By Canon I mean- Silmarillion canon, Maemags kidnapping more kids, Kidnap family-2.0, Slytherin Harry Potter Series: Part 2 of Song of Doom Verse Summary:

"Some older student took the picture as the 'missing' and 'declared' dead Theodore Nott was present in that particular compartment and were causing ruckus at the Great Halls. I confiscated it but—"

"—the young Nott isn't the reason why you brought it here." Indeed it was brought as one young man, looking and smiling exactly like young James Potter with the eyes of Lily Evans, was sitting beside the Nott. Laughing and probably joking.

"Some of my students told me that this is our dear new Music teacher’s son." Snape's mouth curled in a nasty snarl. --- Or in what, the Valar gave Maglor a task to raise a child of prophecy as a form of repentance. it went better than many would expect. Except Maemags ended up kidnapping another kid too.

[silmarillihoarder]

I am such a menace. Playing genshin on pc (a noob I am) and during todays daily commisiions (I had to feed ducks upon Timmie's request in Monsdtat), I killed those ducks.

Is it normal that Timmie cried and ran away and called those ducks poor? I just had to feed them so that they won't bother his pigeons☠️and I took the problem away from the very beginning.

[silmarillihoarder]

Chapters: 11/?

Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

  Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

  Relationships: Maglor (Tolkien) & Harry Potter, Maedhros & Maglor (Tolkien), Maglor (Tolkien)/Original Character(s), Maedhros & Harry Potter, Maedhros (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Maedhros (Tolkien) & Theodore Nott

  Characters: Harry Potter, Maglor (Tolkien), Maedhros (Tolkien), Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Maiar Characters (Tolkien), Filius Flitwick, Theodore Nott, Original Male Character(s)

  Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Retelling of Harry Potter, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Harry Potter Has a Different Name, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Good Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter Has a Happy Childhood, no beta we die like Maedhros in first age, Canon-Typical Violence, By Canon I mean- Silmarillion canon, Maemags kidnapping more kids, Kidnap family-2.0, Slytherin Harry Potter

  Series: Part 2 of Song of Doom

Summary:

At near the end of fourth age, after eight millennia of exile, the Valar gave Macalaurë Canafinwë a task to raise a child. an symbol of hope in the wizarding world and a vessel for more. he is determined to do it properly even as he is overwhelmed.

[silmarillihoarder]

Chapter 11 of Parmalassë(oainulindalë) is out!!!!

<<Previous work || Part 2 of Song of Doom

SNIPPET

"With Theo, you say.” It was Emory Nott who said it. “What would my little brother do with you?” The boy has smiled at Lómёar, but it wasn’t friendly. Had it been Neville, James or even Blaise, it would’ve scared them but, well, Lómёar has full trust on what the sorting hat had told him—‘the castle would protect’, won’t it? “I don’t see how it concerns you, Mr. Nott.” He had tried to keep his cool. “Oh…I suppose not.” Nott was staring at him with flame in his eyes now. Lómёar felt Blaise grabbing his hand beneath the table, even the Greengrass girl has turned quiet. Malfoy was paler than before. “Afterall, that boy was nothing but a thorn and a disappointment. At least, now I don’t have to call him my brother. What a relief!” He let out a mocking sigh. Lómёar tried to retort, to defend Theo who was his cousin now in all but blood, but Blaise’s grasp has tightened and he whispered, “Please, don’t.” Blaise was sounding scared. So Lómёar turned silent too, instead turning back to his meal, ignoring the smirk on Nott’s face.

Notes:

Yay!!! Theo is fianlly sorted!!! Theo story is becoming more political than I first intended. Though the kids won't have much unrealistic power. It would be the adults. Somehow this story got connected with another of my fics (unpublished of course). That fic was awesome and the two got so well together. I have literally floor plans of different houses there.

Previous Work

Tale of Anarórël

Oneshot || Maedhros/Original Female Character || hurt/comfort

[silmarillihoarder]

You know what's more funny?

It's shaped like a knife (almost)

With the ides of march fast approaching we must be prepared

Please reblog to make sure everyone is equipped!

[silmarillihoarder]

reblogging it so that I can find it easily

the suffering never ends

[silmarillihoarder]

Tale of Anarórël is up!!!

Summary:

Lossëtári, the Noldor called her for her pale complexion and fair hair. Anarórël, she was named by those from her husband’s liege. Her own people called her Amrûniel. Lady of Dawn. . . . Of all his family, Dior loved his sister most. She came to the world before him and was the kindest sweetest person he knew. . . . Dior saw blood. The voices in his head – voices that didn’t belong there – spoke in a taunting tone. “Your first kill and surely not your last.” They laughed. “Kill more. You were the rightful heir, Eluchil. Not an outsider. Don’t stop.” . . . Doriath burned.

Notes:

Hello guys!!! So this is one of the many prequels to the main story of Song of Doom. I have been writing it for weeks before I got the desired style. Hope you will enjoy it!!! Wanted to write about these two for so long. turned out better than expected

A snippet:

“Atya! Atya! I make it for Nana! Do you think she would like it?” Gil-Galad has run into his office, unprompted, again. “Eren! We aren’t to talk about it! What if she hears you?” Teluhêr hissed, entering just after his brother. Trying to take whatever was in Gil-Galad’s hand.  “Children.” He sternly said. “Don’t run here. And what did you make?” “This!” Gil-Galad handed him a wooden horse. “We made it.” “You carved it?” He raised an eyebrow. “Under uncle Pityo’s supervision.” Teluhêr told him. “We know not to handle knife without an adult looking over. “He hardly qualifies as one.” If they had said Telkyo, he would’ve been a better option for a supervisor. “Uh, uh. You can’t change definitions to match your intentions to scold us and stop us from making things.” Gil-Galad whined. “Oh, I absolutely can.” He picked him up, ignoring his squirming and smothering the boy with kisses, smiling. From the corner of his eyes he saw movement. Teluhêr had one hand had run out of the chamber the moment he saw his brother being picked up. Straight to Otsëassë’s workshop he went. It’s a place he always loved for interest in history. And whenever he felt liking hiding, it’s the go to place for him. Currently he was hiding or he, too, was going to be smothered with kisses. “Young Lord,” The loremaster asked him as he entered the room. “What can I do for you?” “Nothing.” Teluhêr said. “May I sit alongside you? May I work along you?” “Are you hiding from the Lady again? Or is it the Lord?” He asked as the young boy sat down on one of the tools and picked up a scroll. “From Atya.” He answered. “Running from your studies?” “No. Atya is just feeling like affectionately smothering us.” “Ohh, I should let him do so. Shouldn’t I?” Otsëassë teased him, seeing as his cheeks puffed up and ears reddened. “You won’t.” Teluhêr softly said and the Eldar’s eyes softened. “No, I won’t, child. Just as I won’t tell the Lady what you intend to gift her.” “How did you know?” Teluhêr’s head snapped up. “You two aren’t exactly subtle and your uncle less so.” “Oh, no.” he muttered. “Uncle would let it out to Nana!” And he ran out of the room again.

[silmarillihoarder]

Maglor: (uttering the most disgusting things and telling someone how they are going to die in the most gruesome way)

People: Wow! Such a disgusting behaviour! Your wife must be so repulsed!

Lantulwe: H.O.T. Not his wife but that's another matter... Hope he asks me to help next time :) (while plucking out Eonwe's feathers)

Eonwe: (Screeching) THEN LET ME GO AND HELP HIM!!!

[silmarillihoarder]

I am finally getting The Hobbit!!!

[silmarillihoarder]

Galadriel: Out of Uncle Feanor 's sons I like Maedhros the most.

Elrond: Why?

Galadriel: Once, in Valinor, I watched him berate his father and then turn around and baby mine.

[silmarillihoarder]

I wasn't expecting to see Lungi here but then again I never thought how most traditional wears we have here are rectangular pieces of cloths like Saree, lungi, dhuti etc.

Costume. Chitons.