Thanks for choosing to read this story! If you are already following it, I have edited some conflicting mistakes and made things run a little smoother, but it isn't necessary to re-read this as there are no major plot changes.

Please read and review! Enjoy.

Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings.

Silence.

The once vibrant and green Earth was strewn with the blood of the bodies that littered it. Death had taken over.

The war between Voldemort and Britain's magical world had leaked the existence of magic to the muggle world. Within months, muggle armies were raised to combat Voldemort's forces of evil and every major country was warring with each other. Destruction rose to an immense level.

Britain's magical civil war had turned into a worldwide bloodfest between the blood purists and the light wizards who allied with the muggle armies.

For two years constant warfare raged on Earth, annihilating entire countries in days and decimating the global population. Nuclear weapons and powerful dark spells caused catastrophic damage on both sides.

Now, the war was finally over, and the world was lifeless.

However, not everything was lost.

One person survived the utter mayhem, a dark haired young wizard with haunted emerald eyes.

The sounds of battle still echoed in the ears of the sole living creature left on Earth. Harry Potter sat on the hill overlooking the ruins of Hogwart's Groundskeeper hut, staring blankly into the rising sun.

The weather this morning was picturesque but ill-fitting: sunny, slight breeze, warm day. However, the nice weather could not hide the bodies of his last loyal friends and comrades that lay before him. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Ginny, Fred and George, and Remus were gently placed in a row, their eyes lovingly closed.

He had surrounded their bodies with lilies and bay wreaths that he conjured. They could have all been asleep, except for the bloody gashes on Remus's neck and Neville's discolored skin. The rest had fallen to the killing curse, fired off by the now dead deatheaters.

Raising his hand, he cast a murmured, "Incendio." Great flames sprung from his hand and in less than a minute, only ash remained in place of the bodies. Harry whispered, "Goodbye, everyone. I hope you are at peace now."

Shaking his head to snap himself out of the mournful trance, he got up from the hill and wandered to the Black Lake. The scene was desolate. The Giant Squid floated near the shore, dead and rotting in the sun. Fish carcasses were everywhere, and the smell of death was especially potent.

Falling to his knees, Harry put his head into his hands, and finally let out his repressed sobs. This war took his family, his friends, his future. What did he have left, now that everyone was gone? The world was dead. There were no owls flitting from tree to tree in search of prey, or centaur galloping through the Forbidden Forest. It was silent except for his cries.

He glared up at the sky and screamed in a fit of rage, "Are you happy now? I'm done! I did my best!"

He let out a burst of hysterical laughter when no one answered him. Of course not. He was alone again for what seemed the millionth time in his life.

He lost his parents as a baby, and his godfather, his wise mentor, and his friends were all killed in the war. He had become used to this pain, the crushing feeling that accompanied loneliness.

He closed his eyes and curled up in a ball on the shore, wishing to sleep forever so that he could escape this nightmarish graveyard.

When Harry woke, he found himself surrounded by a white mist. He called out, "Hello? Is someone there?" There was no answer. He walked around for a while, or what seemed like a long time, since there was no since of time passing in the white mist, but found nothing. Frustrated, he commented, "Merlin's saggy balls! If this is heaven then this bloody well sucks." In response, a woman's voice called out.

"This is not heaven, Harry James Potter." Harry jumped, and asked cautiously,

"So then, where am I? And who are you?" He could not sense any presences nearby him, so he poured out a small amount of magic to use his mage sight. Blinking at the sudden change in vision, he took a step back when he saw several shining, indistinct beings standing in a half circle around him. The man-like being in the center of the semi circle nodded his head in greeting.

"Young Harry, I am Manwe of the Valar, and I wish to offer you a deal." Still stricken with grief and loneliness, Harry responded with fervor.

"What do you mean 'a deal'? I don't want to get involved in anything. I just want to join my family and friends in the afterlife. My world is dead." Manwe smiled sadly.

"Yes, it is a tragic occurrence, the death of Earth. However, we Valar wish to send you to a new world. It is not yet your time to join the afterlife. Not for a long while to come." The woman standing next to Manwe spoke next.

"I am Varda, Queen of the Stars. The world of Arda, of Middle Earth, will soon be plunged into war and bloodshed. The dark grows strong and numerous while the light dwindles and flickers. One of the wizards, Saruman the White, has betrayed us. We wish to send you to restore the light and guide them. You are powerful beyond your years."

Harry cried out, "No! I cannot do it again. I'm sorry, but I don't think I can help you in this war. I've seen too much death." A different woman then stepped forward, tears dripping down her cheeks.

"My name is Nienna, the Lady of Mercy. You have seen much pain and suffering in your short life, dear child. But do not despair, for if you decide to venture on this quest, you will soon be at peace. The one your heart longs for will soon be with you."

Harry was speechless for several moments as he digested the conversation with the divine beings before he whispered, "What do you mean by 'the one my heart longs for'?" Nienna smiled gently through her tears.

"Your soulmate, dear child, resides in Arda."

Harry was shocked. He wasn't sure what to say or do.

On one hand, he could pass on and rejoin his family and friends in whatever afterlife existed, or he could go to this world of Arda and try to start anew. The chance to meet his soulmate was so tempting. In his 19 years of life, he had always had a niggling fear in the back of his mind, especially with the years of war, that he would never know what it was like to love or be loved unconditionally, whether it was parental love or the love of a lover. He had always been too busy trying to train and survive the near constant attempts on his life.

However, soulmate or not, he had just gone through a terrible war, and wanted to rest. Could he deal with the terror, the darkness of war? Would he even be able to help them?

He could almost hear Hermione's voice scolding him for doubting his ability. He could imagine her giving a long lecture on how he should take the chance to meet his other half and that he already had a 'people saving thing', so it shouldn't be much of a choice. It wasn't like he was weak. The war on Earth had given his instructors due cause to intensify his training until he was a Master of the Mind Arts, Defense, Dueling, Language, and Healing, not to mention a number of other skills. His family and friends would be angry with him if he threw away this chance.

Nodding his head in decision, he looked at Manwe, and said, "I'll go." Manwe nodded in acceptance and thanks.

"Child, we of the Valar will bless you with eternal youth as a sign of our gratitude, among other things, as your mate is of the Eldar, the elves, and it would be tragic to spend such a fleeting amount of time together if you remained mortal. Now, close your eyes, and when you wake you shall be near Rivendell, the Last Homely House of Lord Elrond. Farewell, child of Earth."

Harry closed his eyes.

The trickling sound of a nearby stream alerted Harry to his change in location, and he cautiously opened his eyes. Sitting up, he took stock of his surroundings, which was a small clearing in an ancient forest. He looked at one of the tall oak trees across the clearing. Every leaf on the tree was visible and clear to him without the use of his glasses or a magnifying spell, and he could hear the pitter patter of a small animal's feet over 200 yards away. It seemed that the Valar had done more than give him immortality. He could feel the raw strength running through his body, and he felt more refreshed and energized than ever before.

Looking down at his body, it seemed that while he was still stuck at his height of 5 '8", he no longer had the scrawny, malnourished appearance that was a result of his poor upbringing in the Dursley household. Instead, he was leanly muscled, with raven hair that curled around his ears in a neater fashion than his usual bird's nest. His body was clad completely in black, with black dragon hide breeches and a vest of the same material, and an acromantula silk shirt underneath. He had on knee-high leather boots and a thick, hooded black cloak was fastened at his throat with a golden phoenix brooch. Pheonixes sown in green thread were visible on the collar of his shirt, and he had a canvas knapsack resting near his feet.

Harry looked around him for his wand, and checked the knapsack when he couldn't see it. Inside the knapsack was a bedroll, a sack of galleons, and a wizarding picture of his family and friends. No wand was present. Feeling panicked, he tore off his cloak and searched through the pockets. How was he supposed to perform magic without his wand?

Finally, he sighed and muttered, "This would be so much easier if I could just accio my wand to me." As if in response, a staff flew at him from within the forest. Surprised, he barely caught it before it smacked him in the face. The staff was almost six feet long, and black as obsidian. The entire length was covered in gold leaf detailing phoenixes, unicorns, and dragons in different poses. A fist sized emerald rested at the top of the staff attached by a ring of silver leaves. It was deadly and beautiful looking.

Harry could feel the power thrumming through the staff, warm and welcoming to him. It was like when he first received his wand from Ollivander, only intensified a hundredfold.

Now that he had collected himself and found a magical focus, Harry stood and looked around. Where to go? He had no idea where he was. Lord Manwe had told him he would be transported near some place named Rivendell, so maybe if he got above the treeline, he would be able to see a building or two. Gripping his staff firmly, he willed his magic to lift him into the air. Magic was mostly about intention, and only the most advanced and powerful acts truly needed a spell to work. Of course, in those cases one had to have the power to perform the spell as well.

When he was ten feet off the ground and rising, several shocked gasps broke his concentration and he stopped to hover in mid air. Looking down, he saw a dark haired man carrying what seemed to be a child, and three other child sized men trailing behind. A great evil surrounded the person in the man's arms, and Harry could sense that the man-child was severely wounded by something of a dark magical nature. Frowning, he lowered himself back to the ground and approached the wary group.

The man shifted his burden to one arm and gripped the hilt of his sword with the other. It was clear that he was feeling very paranoid at the moment, so Harry stilled, and gently said, "My name is Harry Potter, and I may be able to help your friend. I can sense he has been wounded by some sort of dark magic." The man's eyes widened, and he asked,

"What are you, stranger? You carry a staff that is more grand than Olorin's, and yet you are young in age. How could you help to heal a wound created by a wraith? Why should I trust you?"

"I am a wizard, if that's what your asking. I don't know what my age has to do with this, since I am more than experienced in the art of healing, among other things. I swear, I will bring no harm to your friend. I only wish to heal him."

The man studied him, and something in Harry's earnest eyes must have convinced him of his truthfulness, for he stepped towards Harry and carefully laid the wounded person on the grass. "I am Strider, and this hobbit here is young Frodo. He was stabbed with a Morgul-blade by the chief of the Nazgul, the Witch King of Angmar."

Two of the other so-called hobbits piped up. "I'm Pippin, and this is Merry. Nice to meet ya, Mr. Potter." The third one, who had been watching distrustfully the entire time, said shortly, "Sam. Now don't you hurt Mr. Frodo anymore, hear me?'

Harry gave him a solemn nod before he turned his attention to the shivering, gasping hobbit in front of him. Carefully peeling back his shirt to reveal the oozing, pus-filled wound, Harry raised his staff in one hand and pointed it at the wound. The emerald began to glow softly, and black pus started to come out of the stab wound and gather into a floating black mass at the tip of the emerald topped staff. When no more came out, Harry flung the ooze at the grass, which turned yellow with death immediately. He began to wave the staff over the wound again, and the wound healed rapidly until only a faint pink scar marked the place of the near fatal injury.

Strider and the hobbits stared in amazement, and Harry blushed when he realized the intense scrutiny and awe that was being directed towards him. He muttered, "Frodo just needs to rest now. He'll probably sleep for a few days to regain his strength."

Strider, who had regained his composure, exclaimed, "By the Valar, Mr. Potter, that was a feat that I had not known possible. Please, if there is something I may offer you, I am in your debt."

Harry, who was still trying to grasp where he was, responded, "Ah! The Valar! Those are the beings that sent me here. Tell me, is Rivendell nearby? I am supposed to meet with a Lord Elrond. Also, call me Harry."

Strider blinked in shock when Harry said this, and said slowly, "We are headed to Rivendell right now, Harry. Did you just say that the Valar have sent you here?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, that's true. The Valar asked me to come and help as a war is brewing in these lands. They have sent me as an ally to the forces of good."

Strider reached out a hand to grip Harry's shoulder tightly, "Well, Harry, I am glad to have you here, then. You have a powerful aura. I can tell you will bring much strength to us all. Now let's be on our way. It is still several hours walk to Rivendell."