Greetings and Salutations.
This story is one of the rare stories that are completed in the genre of Harry Potter X Lord of the Rings crossover. It was a lot of fun to write this, and I hope that you also had/have fun reading it.
This chapter is very short, yes, it's more a of a teaser than anything else.
Warning: This is pretty much a fluffy story, with hints of drama, some action, and a flash of romance. NO SLASH, just romance.
I don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings.
P.S. This is mostly a based on the movie for Lord of the Rings, most people have seen the movies as opposed to have read the books.
Harry climbed the long and winding staircases back to Gryffindor Tower. He got to dinner late that evening and Ron and Hermione already left to get a jump start on their weekend homework, though Ron left rather reluctantly.
"You're a Prefect now, you need to set a good example!" said Hermione sharply.
"I'd rather eat a good meal." said Ron grumbling.
"You've been in here for an hour." said Hermione with a roll of her eyes.
"Doesn't mean I've got my fill." said Ron with a pout. "There's still a good half a pie sitting there."
Harry was relishing the peace and quiet that was left to him as he sat and ate his meal in solitude. All their fighting and bickering about Prefect duties was wearing thin on his nerves...he was already stressed to the max and they weren't helping matters. He wished that he had a proper vacation, he wasn't able to even get help to deal with the horrors from the third task.
He got home and was ordered to keep out of the way of his Aunt and Uncle. His friends didn't help matters with their lacking letters to him and their slightly teasing remarks about what was going on. He still hadn't forgiven them for leaving him in the dark, and Sirius and Dumbledore were no better in his eyes. He had written several letters to his godfather and to Dumbledore, letters pleading with them to come and get him, or to come and talk to him at least (that only applied to Dumbledore, he didn't want to lose Sirius). But Dumbledore never responded to him, and Sirius only told him that they'd have a nice talk the next time they saw each other. And when they did see each other, Sirius couldn't remember the conversation. So this piece and quiet was a blessing, to just leave him to his thoughts and without the temptation of shouting at his two friends.
He didn't see the eyes focusing squarely on him and sending quick glances down to another table. He had no idea about the plot that was brewing.
Once he had taken his time enjoying his treacle, he walked swiftly down the deserted corridors, past the gossiping pictures and the ancient statues, wishing to get to Gryffindor Tower soon. He was tired and wanted to go straight to sleep, hopefully he didn't have any nightmares to keep him awake, and thankfully, he didn't have any homework left to work on.
He turned down one of the more uninhabited corridors, the paintings in this hallway were all scenery and landscapes, and the statues were that of an assortment of magical creatures. It was a pleasant change from the clanking armors and the chatty portraits.
Suddenly, as he turned a corner, he was slammed against the wall by a blast of red light, knocking him out instantly as his head crashed into stone. He slowly fell to the floor and fell face first onto the cold stone floor.
As he laid there, four people emerged from the shadows and sneered down at the unconscious boy.
"What do we do now, Professor?" asked a blonde teenager, with a malevolent glint in his eye as he looked down at the unconscious figure. "Are we going to lock him in the dungeons for a while?"
"That fool of a Headmaster would send the ghosts out to search and find him the moment he doesn't show in the Common Room, he'd be found too quickly. But I know just the thing. You two, grab him." said a toad faced woman, turning on her heel and strutted down the corridor with the blonde haired boy behind her, and the two boys carrying an unconscious Harry.
She took them down to the deepest part of the dungeons, even past the potions classroom, and the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. She walked towards a dead end corridor that not even Draco had traveled down before, torches lining the bare walls and towards the only painting in the area. It was a large yew framed painting saturated in browns, grays, and red. There were men poised and ready to strike with their weapons while what looked like monsters were baring their teeth and fingering their own cruel blades. Strangely, unlike all the other pictures in the school and magical world, these figures were stationary, frozen in time.
Umbridge waved her hand over the gruesome looking battle painting, filled with blood lust and loss of life, the oils and figures began to swirl, the distorting on itself and a low moan emitted from the canvas.
"Shove him through." said Umbridge with a haughty smile.
"What is it?" asked Draco looking for some reason, uneasy instead of his normal sneering self.
"It used to be a way for the Ministry used to use to punish those who stood against it, when the courts were incapable of seeing their own nose at the end of their face. You'll see what it does." said Umbridge with the same smile. "It hasn't been used in a long while." She added looking fondly at the swirling colors.
"What's it doing here?" he asked quickly, before his lackeys could throw the unsuspecting Gryffindor in the painting.
"Phineas Nigellus placed it here, many years ago when he was Headmaster, and a fine one he was too." said Umbridge with a smirk. "Never questioned authority, or his superiors. He left it here to protect it from the people who would have it destroyed. That man had sense about him, can't same the same thing for the current ones." she finished with a frown. "I found it when I was here, and I always wanted to use it on someone."
Crabbe and Goyle lifted the limp figure up into the air and threw him into the wall containing the painting. As soon as he went through, he came back out again, as if his body was doing a U-turn. But as he came out, Draco and his goons noticed that he didn't come out the same way he came out. It was like he himself had been through the war that took place amongst the oils. He was bloodied, bruised and worn, and he fell limply to the ground.
"Now we leave him, a few floors away though, can't risk losing this painting." said Umbridge smugly. This time she magicked him onto a stretcher and levitated him up the stairs. Draco looked back at the painting with a look of horror on his face. He could now see what looked like Potter's face, amongst the warriors and wielding a bloodstained sword, the strangest thing was...he now had a sparkling crown on his head.
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