Chapter 6 : Ancestors and Sparring
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“Harry, wait!” It was Ginny and Harry groaned, inwardly, he knew exactly what she wanted.
“Yes?” Harry asked, impatiently, mentally restraining himself from marching away.
“I… I want you to know that I will wait for you. We can get back together after the war.” Harry sighed. Why couldn’t the girl understand? Why couldn’t Ginny be sensible, like Hermione? Why did the girl have to be so daft?
“No, we can’t Ginny.” Harry told her as gently as he could.
“Why can’t we?” Ginny cried, her face was stone, and she stood firm in her cause.
“Things are different, now.” Harry admonished, “It is no longer possible for us to be together. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to attend for, which you have made me late!” The elf stormed off, angrily, to rush into his robes and grab his weapons.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Harry gasped, as he stumbled off the flight of steps and greeted his four mentors.
“No matter,” Galadriel replied, dismissively. “Come.” The elven lady escorted the group down the hall, and into a room.
“This is the Hall of the High Elves. It is magically enchanted, to follow you into whatever place, you come across. The reason, this room did not appear to you before, was because you had no knowledge of yourself being an elf. The portraits of all your ancestors are contained in this room, and that includes your grandparents, parents, Elrond, Celeborn and myself. Take your stance!” The female elf, declared.
Harry instinctively transformed into an elf, and gripped his sword, ready for the attack. The elves whirled into action, and Harry found himself encircled by his mentors. The battle was an intense dance; Harry’s opponents were ferocious, pouncing lions; and Harry was a gazelle, parrying their blows, leaping high into the air only to come down upon the lions. Hours later, the conflict ended when Harry felt the chilling metal of Minerva’s blade against his throat.
“You have done well,” the boy’s daernanneth remarked. “We are finished for today. You may stay and explore awhile if you desire, Harry.” The four elves left the room, leaving Harry to himself; who took the opportunity to introduce himself to his ancestors, including Beren and Luthein, the mortal and immortal couple. In addition, Harry had the chance to, once again, speak with the Founders.
“Hello again, Harry,”
“Oh, hello Father Godric,” Harry acknowledged, startled. “And how are you, Mother Rowena?”
“I am well, nin yondo.” How do you like your newfound abilities?”
“Oh, I love them! Especially speaking in Elvish, and sparring: it’s even better than playing Quidditch!” The elfling’s response caused his ancestors to smile in amusement.
“What do you think of my sword, Harry?” Godric queried, his warm, hazel eyes twinkling.
“When I first caught sight of your sword, my lord, I automatically knew I was going to kill Voldemort with it. Why is this, so?”
“I was wondering when you were going to ask me that, Harry.” The elven lord chuckled. “You see, we elves, on top of our other abilities, can perceive when we shall use a particular implement to destroy someone.”
“Did you already know that I would use your sword to crush my nemesis?”
“Indeed, my boy, but remember you still have to obliterate the Horcruxes first, otherwise Voldemort will not become mortal.”
“How will I know when a Horcrux is nearby?”
“Your elven aptitude enables you to feel dark magic. Remember, the only means of terminating Horcruxes, is to use power, pure magical power. Why do you think, Voldemort always stresses that power is everything? A person needs power to create and destroy horcruxes, which is exactly what Voldemort was doing.”
“It must have been hard for Voldemort to produce his first Horcrux, then.” Harry thought.
“Exactly,” Rowena replied, nodding. “Although as the Dark Lord killed more people, he gained more power. You are blessed, Harry because elves do not kill for sport, we only reach for our blades when it is absolutely necessary.”
Soon, Harry returned to his sword, feeling a need to improve. The young man, smiled as he grasped his magnificent sword. How he loved this light, elven craft! With a feeling of elation, the lad practiced each pose he had discovered by observing his elders, often pivoting into the air when evading an imaginary blow. After awhile, the elf even determined that his favorite move was the one where the swordsman placed his blade straight out in front of him, and spun… around and around. That specific method was a lethal one, notably with two armaments, but it was astonishingly enjoyable!
“Harry! Watch out!” A voice cried, frightened. The youth’s eyes flew open as he skidded, abruptly to a stop.
“ Merlin, Hermione. What are you doing, here?” Harry asked, amazed at seeing his friend.
“Mrs. Weasley told me to find you, and tell you that supper is ready.” The girl gasped, relieved, “I hunted all over the house for you and finally I discovered this room.”
“You can see this room, Hermione?” Harry doubted, his eyebrows rising.
“Yes, course,” Hermione, answered, irritated. “What is so significant about that?”
“Mione, this room is…”
“The room is charmed!” Hermione’s eyes widened in realization, “This room is charmed, so that it is only visible to elves!”
“Precisely, we have to confront Daernana, now!” The elf emphasized, hurriedly transforming into a human. The couple went barreling out of the Hall, tripping over each other in their haste only to find that… everyone was already at dinner!
A/N: nin- my
Please note: All Elvish is taken from Tolkien's work. The language is NOT mine.
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