A.N: I've returned to reading in the fandom of the Lord of the Rings after a few years of other interests and also delved into the Harry Potter crossovers.

This is my own attempt at one of those classic Harry-elfling fics. I know it's terribly cliché but… I love those! ^-^

Harry so deserves a second chance at a childhood. And Middle-Earth is just the place.

Please review and let me know if it's worth the effort to write. I know there are already a bunch of these out there but even so there just aren't enough for my taste. Oh! And any such fic's you have come across, please let me know! I love reading them so if I missed one I'd really like to know!

Warning: Harry Potter events may not be entirely canonical. For as far as they are mentioned. I keep to most of the books but I'm leaving book 6 and 7 floating a bit. No mention made of Horcruxes and Harry's weird moment of death, some people didn't die… and well, suffice to say is that he defeated Voldemort in the end, sometime during 7th year.


After Voldemort's defeat Harry didn't really feel anything.

He had imagined he would feel victorious, relieved, happy or even terribly guilty for having killed another person.

Instead there was nothing. No fear of having turned into a monster, no happiness at finally being free from that damn prophecy. No pride at the parties that were held in his honour. No joy at the sound of his friends' carefree, relieved laughter. Just an all-encompassing numbness that spread through his entire being.

This was all he had been working towards and now that his purpose was fulfilled there was nothing left.

He snorted at himself, feeling the slightest twinge of bitter amusement. 'I'm seventeen years old. I should be out there partying, getting drunk, pulling stupid pranks or basking in the ladies' attention.' The idea of doing any of those things was not in the least bit appealing. It never had been, to him.

Most of his friends didn't seem to know what to do with him. Out of everyone only Ron and Hermione seemed to somewhat understand what he was feeling. They had stood at his side for so long and through so many perils that they understood him better than anyone else. They too had grown up a bit during the war. And while they tried to be supportive of him, tried to drag him even the tiniest bit out of the shell he had completely retreated into, they had no real success.

He loved them and there was a bond between them, one that could only be created through hardships faced together. The tentative start of that bond came into being during their very first year, while facing that troll in the ladies' bathroom. After that it had only increased in strength. Now Ron and Hermione were just about the only ones who could get him to… really care.

It's not that he did not care for anyone else anymore. He still cared for the rest of the Weasleys, for his friends from the DA, for Remus and a few other members of the Order. But the rest of the world, the wizarding world at large that was hailing him as their saviour once more, the nameless, faceless 'innocents' that he had fought so hard for, defending them from the Dark Lord… He cared no more for them.

It should be enough, shouldn't it? He had his friends, his family in a way. And they were slowly rebuilding all that had been lost. They were moving on. Remus and Tonks, the twins and their joke shop, Ron and Hermione… A smile formed on his face as he remembered their wedding. The first truly happy moment after the conclusion of the war. He was happy for them, he really was. He was glad that everyone was moving on. Yet, nonetheless he felt left behind.

Harry knew he was always welcome amongst any of them but… He didn't feel like he belonged there anymore. Sure, he smiled and felt warm at their happiness but he just couldn't find any joy of his very own.

He almost wished he had died at the end. It would have been fitting. If not for the pain it would have caused his friends, it would have been nice, he thought. At least death would have been something. 'The next great adventure…'

He shook his head, sighing, and turned his back to the thought. This was one thought he would not be sharing with Ron and Hermione he thought in amusement. They were worried enough as it was. Harry shook his head once more and went to bed. 'Perhaps things will look better in the morning.' he told himself again, as he had for the past few days just before sleep claimed him. Perhaps this time, it would.