Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Shadows of the Past	By : LadyLaran Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Het - Male/Female Views: 12317 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “the Silmarillion,” and “the Hobbit.” We don't make any money for this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Author’s Note – And here’s another chapter for you guys to enjoy! We really appreciate all of our readers and those who took the time to review. Also, we have another time skip to help move things along.

Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “The Silmarillion,” or “The Hobbit.” We do not make money from this story.

Chapter Nine – The Crafter Emerges

It was October 19^th, and there was a full moon casting its light over the grounds of Hogwarts. Three figures were seen together past Hagrid’s hut as they worked to set up something for Hari.

“Wood from a holly tree that’s been crafted into a simple staff by an old stone knife, silver pieces, some iron pieces, some of the purest and oldest diamonds that can be bought for money from the goblins, and really unusual rune stones. Hari, what are you planning,” Ron asked, being understandably confused as to why she had requested his help.

“I want to try and make a magical staff through the old ways like how the Founders of Hogwarts did. If I am to deal with Voldemort without getting killed, I need all the help I can get and after reading the books you recommended, a staff might be able to help me better than my wand. I need to figure out what to do about the brother wand problem, and this is the only way I could think of. Sirius agreed too and helped me get all this together.”

Hermione had already drawn up a large image on the ground, referencing a drawing Hari had given her earlier.

“This image you wanted for the ritual is rather complex, Hari. The runes here in the inscription are something I have never seen them before.”

It was no wonder that Hermione would complain, but the witch had used the white chalk to draw out the image of an intricately detailed set of doors. There was a fine inlay showing a hammer, anvil, a crown, and seven stars in the upper part, along with two trees surmounted by crescent moons on the sides, and there was a single star in the middle. On the top left and right corners there were a large C and an N, and between their feet was a D.

“Those doors are an important symbol from my past life. I believe that I was one of two people who made them. If we use them as a symbol for this ritual for a magical staff, I am sure that it will calm my mind for a while.”

Using her magic, Hari began by fastening the two iron pieces to the sides of the staff. Then she placed the diamonds in the middle of the top part. The silver was made into very thin thread to “sew” the different items to the staff while she also used some of the remaining silver to carve the runes into the wood. Placing the staff on the single star, she slowly began to sing in a language that was unknown to Ron and Hermione.

“Lord of Khazad-dûm
Lord Durin
Oldest of the Seven Fathers
I plead sanctuary
Of your mercy
Grand Halls
And great mines
Your kingdom lies
Deep underground
Far from the Evil
Which haunts the world.”

To their big surprise, the image actually started to glow in a silver light as Hari sang. The light enveloped their friend as magic swirled around them, drawing from the runes as well as the items that had been brought to this little ritual.

The witch finished singing, then switched to another tongue that very few non-dwarrow knew to chant her plea to the one who might be able to aid her in this task. The languages came easily to her, emerging from the part of her mind where the memories of a past life stayed in the shadows of partial forgetfulness.

“Mahal, Smith of all,
Stone Father of the line
Of Durin, before thee
I lay my plea.

Mine enemies seek to
Destroy me - evils old
And new. The path that
Lays before me is fraught
With pain and shadow.

By my hands, I seek to
Make a tool imbued with dwarvish
Cunning, courage, and strength.
With thy blessing, so shall this be
A weapon to protect those close to
Me.

Grant me strength, oh Lord of Stone,
As I walk this path but am never alone.

This I do by my will and by thy grace,
So mote it be!”

The light went incredibly bright and when it receded, her staff was hovering in front of her but was now changed greatly from what she had started off with. There were runes inscribed in the wood, filled with what Hari recognized as mithril, and the diamond lay snugly on top, held in place by miniature hammers, engraved with stars.

“Oh my,” Hermione murmured from where she had fallen over in surprise. Ron mirrored her shocked face from where he was.

However, Hari was not fully done yet; there was something else she needed to say. Moving the staff towards the crown and the seven stars, her green eyes suddenly flashed clear blue for a moment as she spoke in an unexpectedly deep voice that was undoubtedly male.

“Sons of Durin! Current and future Lords of Khazad-dûm! Durin’s Folk! I, the Jewelsmith and Door-maker, hereby grant you my loyalty once more! By the honor of your Seven Fathers and your Maker, I swear that the Enemy shall not be allowed to bring Middle Earth into darkness and ruin!”

Unknown to Hari, her temporarily male voice was not just heard in the school grounds of Hogwarts. Deep into the Blue Mountains of Middle-Earth, there was a grand set of dwarven halls for the dwarrow of Durin’s Folk, who had survived the dragon attack on Erebor and the war against the orcs. Fili was not the only dwarf to suddenly bolt awake in bed, and he was quick to leave his room to find his mother, brother, and uncle standing in the sitting room. All of them were staring at each other in shock.

“Uncle, you heard it too?”

“I suspect, Fili, that all of those with Durin’s blood heard it,” Thorin replied, running a hand over his bearded jaw.

As the other three began to discuss what this could possibly mean, Fili sank onto a chair and pondered everything that had been going on in his life so far. He’d done some research into past lives once the dreams had started, and he had a feeling that he’d walked the earth of Arda at least once before. That was partially confirmed when he’d begun dreaming of Hari and had heard of her dreams.

He had a wisp of an idea of who the pair of them had been in a previous life, but he had no proof and possibly wouldn’t unless he sought out someone who had knowledge of those who had been reborn. Knowing his luck, that would mean a trip to Rivendell and speaking with the elvish scholars there.

If he was right then it meant that his fate was tied to another, and that would not make the council pleased at all as they had hoped to betroth him to a dwarrowdam of a wealthy clan in order to help their people even further since money was still tight. So far, his mother and uncle had been against it and he hoped they would continue to stand strong until Mahal and the other Valar showed him what it was he was meant to do.

“Jewel-smith and Door-maker - those are the titles Celebrimbor was granted by Durin, right?”

Fili looked up when he heard his brother’s question and nodded as he answered him.

“Yes,” he said. “Celebrimbor was the last elf to ever bear the title of dwarf friend, and he was dearly loved by the line of Durin. Durin himself gave that title to him as well as calling him the Jewel-Smith and Door-Maker. He was the only elf to have a work space in a dwarven mountain as well as to be buried alongside the dwarrow who returned to stone while we still called Khazad-dûm home.”

“So the voice, it had to be Celebrimbor but how?”

“Rebirth perhaps,” Dis answered her youngest. “Our race is not the only one to speak of souls returning; in truth, we know Durin has several times as well as one other elf that I can think of. Maybe the Valar are permitting his return?”

“It wouldn’t be right if Narvi hasn’t been allowed the same,” the archer said, sitting on the back of Fili’s seat.

Thorin nodded, silently agreeing with his youngest sister-son. Every dwarrow of Durin’s Line knew the tale of Narvi’s fatal grief at the loss of the elf and when the dwarf had died while reclaiming his friend’s body from the Enemy, Durin himself had ensured the two were buried side by side so that they could be together in death as they had not been in life. The texts that had survived the loss of both kingdoms had said that Narvi had confided to the king that Celebrimbor had been his One but had feared ruining the friendship they had shared.

To date, the tale of Narvi and Celebrimbor was a sad romantic tale that was shared during history lessons. It was a story all of them knew very well, and it was due to this knowledge that the king-in-exile agreed with Kili about Narvi being allowed to return as well. To not allow it would be cruel but then again, the Valar had never been fair to the dwarrow of Durin’s Folk.

“Maybe this is a good omen,” Dis suggested, getting a growing look of hope in her eyes.

“Only one-not-so small problem, Mom; there have been no new elf-births for at least several hundred years from what we have heard about. Surely Celebrimbor, being an elf, would be reborn as one of his own race? Add to that, being killed in the Second Age in a such horrible manner, I doubt he may be quick in being reborn,” Kili pointed out.

“Not necessarily,” Fili objected quietly. “The Valar control rebirths, remember? Chances are good he spent a great deal of much-needed time with Lady Nienna to heal from the trauma before going forward.”

His family nodded, agreeing on that theory. Since an official writing of Celebrimbor’s fatal injuries had been ordered to ensure that Durin’s Folk never forgot the horror of his death, Fili’s theory was incredibly plausible.

“The question is, what is Durin’s line going to do about this,” the eldest of the two sons asked the adults.

“We keep our eyes open for our friend’s return and aid him in his quest to keep the darkness from reclaiming Middle Earth,” Thorin said to his heir. “He helped us many times during his life, and we will answer his call whenever we find him. We will find him!”

“Agreed,” Dis answered. “If he is reborn, then there is a high risk that the enemy will try and capture him again. We all know the basics of his family line and history; he will draw the darkness to him without really meaning to.”

“He’ll be the only one in our time who will know how to craft the Rings of Power,” Fili said softly. “There will be a lot of people wanting his knowledge once his rebirth is made known. I wonder if it’s just our line who knows or if the elves heard this too?”

They all shuddered at that thought. Thorin recalled how he, as a dwarfling, had overheard Thranduil, the King of Mirkwood, complain to his grandfather Thror that he had no Ring of Power to protect his kingdom and thus needed to draw much of his own spiritual strength to keep the darkness away from his people. It was even worse since his wife’s death since she had helped him a great deal with that task. While Thorin did not think Thranduil would demand a possible Ring of Power from Celebrimbor, he recalled the news he’d heard of the state of Mirkwood and knew it was needed even if Thranduil himself did not say it openly.

“Which means we need to make sure that no one in our clan speaks of this to anyone else,” Thorin said, sounding determined. “We can give him this until he rejoins us and this time, the line of Durin will not take no when we offer him a place to live with us.”

“He might not like us making that decision for him, especially as we do not even know where he is or how old he could be at the moment,” Kili pointed out to his family.

“We’ll handle it as tactfully and diplomatically as possible,” his mother agreed. “Which means Balin should probably talk to him about it since Thorin can be as tactful as a hammer on hot metal most of the time.”

Thorin pouted a bit at his sister but didn’t argue, making the two younger dwarrow laugh.

“For now, I think we can suggest an extra prayer for Celebrimbor to the Maker from all of our people as it is Durin’s day tomorrow and we all know that it is common to send extra prayers on behalf of the dead on that day. Everyone knows how important he is for us so it should not be any trouble.”

“Your mother is correct, and I will make sure the people understand that no word of tonight’s event is ever mentioned to other races or clans of dwarrow,” Thorin agreed. “Now we should return to our beds as tomorrow is a long day.”

Fili bade his family good night and once he was in his room, he sat on the bed and looked out the window. His thoughts were on Hari, and he had a suspicion that his friend was somehow tied into Celebrimbor’s rebirth. By her own admission, she had suspicions on who she had been but had no way to really confirm it.

If she indeed was Celebrimbor, he had to wonder what his role in all of this was and why he seemed to be tied to her in such a way because this was not a normal thing for his kind. Spouses from the races of men and elves were practically unheard of, with only a few documented cases in that long gone past.

Then, he suddenly realized one thing; if she was the reincarnation of the Door-Maker, the Valar must have placed Celebrimbor’s soul in the body of a mortal daughter of men to hide her from Sauron. No one would look for the famed grandson of Fëanor in a such body, not among the mortals!

At that realization, his stomach clenched somewhat. He would have to find a way to protect her if she found herself on Arda; his friend would not come to harm. Fili promised this to himself, clenching his fists in determination as he did so.

Author’s End Note - And now the dwarrow have reason to believe that their dear friend may be returning and in need of their help. Rogercat and I were debating on how Thorin and his family would react to this and felt that the House of Durin would do all they could to aid and protect Celebrimbor once they found him. We hope you enjoyed this chapter; thank you all for reading and please let us know what you thought of this! ~ Laran & Rogercat
- 8
- 9
- 10
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Shadows of the Past