Here is what WAS going to be the Epilogue to Return of the High Elves, before someone decided to complain about my responding to reviews. I may re-upload it later...I dunno. Don't know if I'll have the heart anymore. My inspiration suddenly collapsed.
Here it is. Enjoy. Hopefully it won't get deleted for this short note.
Harry walked out onto the balcony outside the room he shared with Ginny, clad only in a pair of loose trousers, and leaned against the railing looking out into the forest below. Potter Manor sat at the crest of a small valley, overlooking the village of Godric's Hollow on one side, and a forest on the other.
He sighed as he watched a pair of sparrows flitter about in the moonlight, darting in and out among the treetops. They led such simple lives, unaware of the world-altering events that took place around them. He envied their freedom.
"Are you still moping?" Came Ginny's voice, as she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. "Honestly, I told you. You look quite dashing and handsome like that."
He smiled faintly at her, pulling her around so that she was in front of him, and pulling her against him. She leaned back, nestling her head against his shoulder as she idly watched the pair of sparrows' airborne dance.
"What I would like to know," he said quietly, loving the feel of her against him, "is which of the so called 'adults' in this household it was slipped that into my food. For that matter, I would also like to know how they knew Fred and George had even made such a thing. Honestly, your brother's have too much time on their hands."
She smirked, leaning her head back and looking up at him innocently.
"What makes you think it was one of them? I told you last time...I do so like your hair that colour." she said, smiling.
He looked down at her in surprise, before stealing a quick kiss.
"I'll let you get away with it this time. But I swear, the next person who turns my hair blonde will find themselves enjoying first-hand the exciting and adventurous life of a rock."
The sound of her laughter brought a smile to his face again, and he pulled her tighter to him, wrapping his arms around her, as they stood together and watched the birds flitting about below them.
Adaron watched the young elf stride out onto the balcony, and was again struck with the unfailing sense that he knew this elf. He couldn't understand it, the strange familiarity he felt coming from the young lord, but it was there, he could not deny it.
He smiled as he saw the interaction between the two, and smiled as he felt Atara's own blessing upon them. Her blessing was the Lifebond, that would eternally bind them together. Two souls forever joined.
His mind was still nagging with the ever increasing feeling that he was missing something, when the words spoken by the young lord reached his ears.
"...enjoying first-hand the exciting and adventurous life of a rock."
Adaron froze, the all-too-familiar words ringing through his brain, and suddenly something seemed to fall into place.
"Impossible," he whispered to himself, his eyes now studying the pair intently, taking in every nuance of their interaction. The way they held each other, serene and peaceful, as they looked out below them. The way he leaned his head forward and whispered in her ear, and her face lit up in laughter. It all seemed to scream in his mind, forcing him to see what he hadn't before.
"It cannot be," he said again, louder this time, attracting Atara's attention.
'What cannot be?" she asked, moving to stand next to him, looking down and smiling at the love she beheld in the elven couple.
"Look at them Atara," he said urgently. "Look at the way they interact. The way he holds her, the way they practically seem to glow with peace and serenity, and yet at the same time, undeniable strength."
She glanced down briefly, nodding in agreement, before looking up at him, still unsure. Their eyes met, and in that moment, the knowledge of what he sensed entered her, and her eyes widened in surprise.
"That's not possible Adaron, we'd have known!" She exclaimed, for the first time in her very very long life shocked beyond belief.
He laughed softly, a fierce grin breaking out across his face.
"Who would be the only ones capable of hiding anything from us?" He asked triumphantly.
"Nobody, except possibly-NO!" She said, eyes widening again in realization.
"Aye. Ourselves," He nodded to her. "We were worried we'd not have the power to do what needed to be done. I suddenly think that won't be a problem anymore."
She smiled as well then, as the troubling problem that had been their bane of their recent planning resolved itself.
"I do believe your right."
While the Champion of the Light stood peaceful and content upon the balcony of Potter Manor, his enemy paced angrily through the halls of Azkaban.
He screamed in rage, lashing out in anger at any foolish Death Eaters who tried to approach him.
It was Potter's fault! He didn't know how the meddlesome boy had done what he had, and that only served to fuel his anger to even greater heights.
He would kill the insolent boy. He would torture, main, crush him. He would make him suffer for all the trouble he had caused, only then giving him a painful death.
He just needed to figure out how.
He shoved the doors to the Azkaban library open, and strode in. All the books on dark magics he had ever had were now held within this room. If the answer he sought wasn't here, it would be nowhere.
He was about to grab up the nearest book, Cruel Curses, when he heard it.
An echoing, cruel laughter coming from a dark corner of the room.
It was coming from a book, he saw. The laughter came from an animated skull that adorned the cover, baleful red eyes burning in its sockets.
He knew every book in his collection, had studied them all at some time, and knew that this one was most definitely not one of his.
Cautiously, he picked it up, eyeing it carefully as the laughter stopped, and the glowing eyes surveyed him.
"Yesssss," the skull hissed, "a dark soul you have. A desire for death, destruction. You are worthy,"
The Dark Lord's hand shook in cruel anticipation as he carefully opened the book, and read the words burned into the first page, which looked to be made out of cured human skin.
An insane grin spread across Voldemort's face, and he practically trembled, for the words on the page filled him with an evil glee.
Nekmari - The Chosen of Darkness
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