First of all, I'm really sorry about the delay. The near finished version of the epilogue has been simmering in a folder for months because there were tiny things that I wanted to add/change and RL has been crazy. If my sister hadn't (constantly) reminded me this was due, I would've taken even longer. I ended up having to cut a lot of stuff to make it flow better. I added a bit of extras at the end but then removed them - I'd rather just end it with The End. This chapter fought hard against completion!

The original AN and chapter follow:

Hello!

What I hoped would be a quick epilogue to show what happened in the end turned out to be a bit longer than I'd expected – as usual. I would love to write a crazy long fic following the adventures of the Fellowship but I have neither the time nor the ideas to do it. I don't like unfinished things though so if you read all the other chapters, I think you deserve a small sense of closure (not Six Feet Under finale worthy but hopefully decent enough). It's harder to write something that I hadn't planned from the beginning but I hope it serves its purpose.

Thank you for the support and incentive. I was pretty surprised by the follows and favorites. I haven't read most reviews but I promise I'll read them all. I'm sorry for those who wanted Hermione to remain the main character but I'm afraid this story was always about Harry for me and the rest was just background and conclusion that took a life of its own – Glorfindel, for instance, was never meant to have a big role or a whole chapter dedicated to him!

The usual disclaimers apply. Obviously, anything you recognize belongs to the greater minds of Rowling and Tolkien.

Also, sorry for the small delay (EDIT: Ahahah.) in posting this, many things kept interfering with the progress mainly troublesome work, a thesis, family stuff (the good kind!) and a natural tendency to be easily distracted by shiny things.

To those who stuck with it to the end, I hope you enjoyed the ride.

F.

Harry was leaning against the stone wall in silence, hiding in the shadows as he watched the rowdy celebrations all around him. Gondor's horns sounded victoriously throughout the lands, boasting their defeat of Sauron and the destruction of the Ring of Power. Many of the soldiers present were bruised and bloodied but few seemed to care. The more grievously injured were being attended to by Erestor, Aragorn and Madam Pomfrey at the Houses of Healing. In the great dining hall, two Hobbits danced on the long table to the surprise but joy of many. Raucous songs and dirty jokes filled the hall in equal measure.

Harry watched Ron and Hermione holding hands under the table as they spoke excitedly with Legolas and Boromir, the witch easily leading the conversation. The wizard smiled at the unlikely scenario. Men, Elves, Hobbits and Wizards drank and laughed, sharing their last few moments together. Harry could hardly believe his eyes so he closed them, taking in the incredible amount of relief and happiness in the air in one deep breath. Hermione's laugh reached him and a pair of bright green eyes slowly opened again.

Harry watched his friend with visible fondness. Hermione, the brilliant Hermione Granger, had studied like never before in order to reach Middle Earth. She had succeeded – as if there had ever been any doubt – and joined by a group of ever mysterious Unspeakables, had caused what everyone now called the Redirection of the Veil of Death. They'd managed to open a passage to Middle Earth and Harry knew little more than that the process had involved a great amount of Duddley's willingly given blood and the Elder Wand. Hermione assured him the wand was still safe and no one had guessed its true nature. Harry could only hope she was right.

He almost laughed out loud as he remembered the initial reactions when the doorway first opened ("Sorcery!", Gimli had shouted and he hadn't been wrong). George Weasley had appeared in expensive-looking dark robes and his grin when first laying eyes on Harry had been worth a thousand words. After what felt possibly like the second best hug in Harry's life, George had returned home briefly to announce the success of the mission and brought back Ginny, Ron, Hermione and most of the former DA shortly after. Kingsley was there as well, surprisingly enough. He'd apparently renounced his post as Minister of Magic to take part in the "Harry project" and had arrived with a good number of Aurors who were all focused on one thing and one thing alone: to return Harry Potter to his rightful place. To take him home. It was a sobering thought.

His mind returned to the present and he surveyed the table again. Charlie and Hagrid were still discussing the Black Rider's beasts and the Oliphants with unwavering enthusiasm. There were other familiar faces as well, like some of the people who'd helped him create the first portkey and while he hadn't expected to see them again, their presence was much appreciated. Family matters had kept Fleur and Bill from coming but Gabrielle seemed to consider herself as the perfect family representative and the lithe girl had been surprisingly efficient in the battlefield, following Harry around so much that Ginny would sometimes stare at the feisty blonde like she wanted to burn a hole right through the part Veela witch.

Harry didn't want to think about the last battle. The 36 wizards and witches that had popped in at the last moment had been vital to their success but death had been inevitable. It would've been naïve to expect otherwise. The residents of Arda were grateful for their presence and knowing that the wizards couldn't stay for long, this reunion had a bittersweet feel to it. It was both a victory and farewell party and everyone seemed determined to make the best of it. Harry pretended not to notice George carefully avoiding Elrond's sons but Ron often stared at them with a look so sad that it would cause Hermione to rub her eyes each time she caught it. Faramir and the Lady Éowen were talking quietly near a window and Boromir would often laugh and point in their direction, earning annoyed but amused glares from Éomer and Théoden each time.

Harry sought solitude, the faces of the dead still haunting him despite the surprisingly good outcome. Even though the wizards had mostly been acting as support, two Aurors Harry barely knew had died at Pelennor Fields. Two people from his world who had joined a war that was not their own simply because they believed it was the right thing to do. They'd still be alive if Harry had returned with them, their initial purpose fulfilled – half a dozen had indeed done so after being made aware of the situation but the majority had decided to stay. He wondered if they had families and if he should be the one to inform them. Harry lifted a hand and rubbed his temples, trying to stop the constant back and forth of his thoughts and turned to walk away.

Ginny was watching him, he realized. She gave him a brief nod that he returned but the witch made no move to follow him and he was grateful for it. Harry moved through the corridors quickly, bowing his head only briefly every time someone crossed his path. He only stopped when he reached a small room, recognizing the voices inside instantly.

"…be easy." Gandalf was saying softly, sounding more like Gandalf the Grey than Gandalf the White at that moment. Harry stopped to listen without thinking.

"I won't deny it's been difficult. It's not easier now that I see her again." Harry was surprised to hear Glorfindel admit.

"Ah yes, the lady Hermione is quite…" Gandalf didn't finish but instead just chuckled and sat down in front of the fireplace.

"The world should feel brighter now, Mithrandir, but to me it feels like all light will be leaving it soon. I find that nothing can make me truly joyful."

"Will you go to the Undying Lands?" the old Wizard asked softly as if the elf's journey to the white shores was inevitable.

"Yes. Soon." Glorfindel replied without hesitation. "I believe this is something I will carry for all eternity. Perhaps that will ease the ache in my heart."

There was a brief silence but Glorfindel's sharp tone pierced it without mercy.

"Harry James Potter. Eavesdropping does not suit you." Harsh words aside, Glorfindel sounded almost amused.

Harry entered the small room and closed the door behind him, joining the old Wizard and the Elf by the fireplace.

"Is it still considered eavesdropping if we all know I'm listening?" Harry asked without shame, sitting in a chair next to Gandalf who chuckled again and gave him a familiar wink. Harry wasn't sure when he'd become so comfortable with this small group but he felt almost as if he were back home chatting away with Ron and Hermione at the Burrow. The two wizards sat in peaceful contemplation while the elf stood unnaturally still, leaning against the mantelpiece and eyeing the flames in silence. Harry watched the graceful being for a few moments, standing tall and proud as he bathed in the orange glow and decided he had to do more than to commit the image to memory.

Harry pulled out his wand and a small metal object which he tapped briefly. The borrowed silver contraception unfolded quickly and became a thin metal frame that Harry held in front of his green gaze. A few moments later, a picture of the elf appeared inside the small rectangle. Harry wished he could've done the same many times before throughout his journey.

"What are you doing, Harry Potter?" The blond elf asked with palpable curiosity.

"Making a memory." Harry said in a quiet tone as the image flashed a few times before slowly materializing into a small photograph of Glorfindel. Harry removed the metal frame and showed it to the others.

"It moves." The elf said with a small delighted smile. Gandalf chuckled like a gentle grandfather and muttered something unclear as Harry pocketed the magical photograph.

Glorfindel seemed to fight himself for a few seconds before he finally gave in to the obvious temptation.

"Will it last? Can you make another?" It didn't take a genius to understand the underlying request which was good because Harry was known for being more than a little thick at times.

"Around the magic of the Elves, it will probably last forever. You'll have one by the end of the day." He answered simply and said no more.

"How long until your people leave?" Gandalf asked when the silence dragged on for longer than he deemed acceptable.

"Most will leave tonight. The few that have been injured will follow tomorrow. Hermione, I and a few others might stay for a few days but I'm afraid we'll miss the wedding. I know Hermione wishes she could see Elrond and Arwen again but the doorway might not hold. We don't want to risk being stranded or forcing the two worlds together for too long."

"The worlds must be kept separate." Gandalf the White formally said with a nod and Glorfindel simply stared into the flames with an uncharacteristic frown. The Wizard continued in the same grave tone. "Magic will fade from Arda, piece by piece and soon it will be no more. The Age of Men must not be disrupted any more than it already has."

Harry raised an eyebrow and waited expectantly for the older wizard to continue and Gandalf didn't last long under the younger man's scrutiny.

"You've changed the fate of Middle Earth, Harry. Not dramatically, dear boy, but noticeably so. There are those around us who would not have survived had you and your people not been here. I see them everywhere, little miracles of fate. In my eyes, they flicker and glow beautifully. Who knows how their presence will affect the future."

Harry felt his chest tighten as he always did when Gandalf addressed him as 'dear boy' in such a soft tone. He wondered what the bodies of those who should not have died today would look like to the old man but he said nothing of it. What was the opposite of "little miracles of fate"?

"I don't think we'll ever establish the connection again. We'll probably never…"

"Never is a powerful word." Glorfindel gave Harry a sideway glance.

Silence again.

"Whatever the case, the connection is thinning. We shouldn't linger." A boyish grin graced his features momentarily before Harry returned to his thoughtful state. "If it were up to us, the Valar would have to kick us out." Despite being considerably homesick, Harry wished he could travel through the now peaceful lands of Middle Earth before leaving.

"They will not rush you. You must leave, yes, but do not think the Valar are not grateful for your interference. Much unspilled blood, many unshed tears. Evil undone. You did good." Under the warm gaze of the White Wizard, Harry felt a twinge of pride at the gentle praise before he squashed it.

"Perhaps one day it will be the Valar who open the connection once more." Glorfindel added just as Gandalf blew another puff of smoke and Harry pulled his wand and played with it, forcing the smoke to take many shapes (from children riding brooms to rearing hippogriffs) to the obviously delight of the others.

Harry wondered if there were other ways to open the connection. He eyed the old Wizard with a bright gaze, made all the brighter by the flames that danced in his green eyes. He remembered the beginning of their voyage together, when Saruman's power had proved to be too great and nearly killed the entire Fellowship at the pass of Caradhras. Harry had almost died when he tried to scout the path ahead with his broom and his warming and concealment charms had done little in the way of helping the men and hobbits freezing in the snowy path. He'd felt useless and wondered – not for the first or last time – what Hermione would've done in his position and whether she would've found a solution to their problem.

"Harry."

They'd been forced to go through the Mines of Moria and Harry had walked with the Fellowship then as their equal. Their curiosity had overcome whatever part of Harry still intimidated them and their questions had been bold and numerous, mainly due to Pippin's never ending curiosity. In return, Harry had asked almost as many questions and trust grew between them, quickly cemented when they were forced to fight together. Harry's trademark spell Expeliarmus was of little use in a fight but few things could withstand a Reducto straight to the head – as a certain cave troll was unfortunate enough to discover. When surrounded by Orcs in every direction, Harry had used the dark fire to keep them at bay and while Fiendfyre seemed to make the others uneasy, the fact that it took so much how of him made the wizard seem all the more human to the rest of the Fellowship. By the time a Balrog had appeared, Harry was apparating Gimli and the hobbits to safety and looked downright exhausted. He was leaning against Boromir when Gandalf the Grey made his final stand on the bridge of Khazad-dûm. Furiously, Harry had sent every spell he knew against the fire beast but nothing had worked. Most offensive spells showed no impact. Water spells turned to vapor before they touched the Balrog. Prongs had been suffocated out of existence with a soul-wrenching sound.

Gandalf fell and Harry couldn't do anything to prevent it, to stop it from happening all over again right in front of his eyes and only watched in horror as another witty old wizard with a long beard and a gentle voice dropped into the darkness and out of his reach. His pained cry was only matched by Frodo's, who had to be dragged out of the mines in tears.

Harry remembered everything so vividly: the sounds, the smells. How he'd felt useless, desperate, drained in every possible way and wondered – once more and not for the last time – what Hermione would've done in the same situation.

"Harry."

The young wizard looked startled, only then realizing that Gandalf had been calling his name.

"You went somewhere." Glorfindel said softly. Harry smiled, just a little.

"Just thinking. Remembering the journey." The younger wizard paused and then released the tension Harry didn't realize he'd been accumulating in one long sigh. "I don't think I did much, to be honest. I couldn't even keep Frodo and Sam from going to Mordor."

"It was Frodo's burden to bear. The destruction of the One Ring was his task and his alone." Gandalf interrupted gently.

"Aragorn said you saved Boromir's life." Glorfindel joined the old wizard. "Denethor would've been crushed by the death of his first born. You protected Merry and Pippin. I saw how you fought at Helm's Deep. You did more than enough even before your friends joined you."

Harry grinned, remembering the people of Rohan to whom he would forever be the Broom Wizard after he'd flown around the battlefield at Helm's Deep, unleashing an unholy terror from the skies during the Uruk-hai siege. One of the many days he'd almost died of exhaustion. He was as fond of the people of Rohan as they seemed to be of him and Harry was pleased that he'd been able to help with Théodred's ailment.

"Maybe. Hermione would've done better." Harry said lightly, fighting to keep his mind in the present.

"No doubt." Glorfindel agreed quickly and Harry gave him a pointed look.

"Why are you avoiding the dinner hall? Is it too painful to see Hermione with Ron?" Perhaps not the emotional range of a teaspoon but the question was still far too blunt for such a delicate subject and it was obvious Harry was trying to divert the attention as far away from himself as possible.

"He's no match for her." Glorfindel said somewhat unkindly but his tone softened quickly. "But they look happy." From his tone, it was clear the elf probably considered most of the world as beneath the affections of the witch.

"Oh, he knows it." Harry laughed, a benign expression gracing his features as he stared into the flames. "Though… he is a good man. They're good together."

Glorfindel gave him one of his famous piercing looks and then crossed his arms as he faced the young wizard.

"You are avoiding her as well." The Elf stated with certainty.

Harry looked at the flames.

"Well, yes." he said. "She's pretty angry with me."

"With good reason." Glorfindel said simply, almost smirking. They'd talked about this before. Gandalf blew a puff of smoke slowly and watched it turn into a running horse. Harry's eyes widened slightly and he looked to the elf for a reaction but if Glorfindel knew the thought that had briefly crossed his mind, he betrayed nothing.

"She avoids you.." The elf continued.

Harry threw Glorfindel a friendly glare but didn't deny his words.

"Yes. We need to talk. When we're alone."

Harry remembered the moment the Earth's wizards had arrived in full force at Gondor. The massive doorway of the throne room had suddenly started glowing and everyone had looked to Harry for an explanation. Then George had crossed the threshold, red hair glowing almost offensively bright in the early morning sun, armored in leather and dragon scales armor, wand at the ready. He'd grinned when he'd seen Harry and embraced the younger wizard, whistled at the impressive building and exchanged a few quick words with Harry before disappearing again. When he'd returned, Hermione was right behind him.

"I swear that if you ever do something like that again, Harry, I will never speak to you again." Hermione had whispered to him fiercely while she nearly chocked him in a hug. Harry had simply nodded and they'd silently agreed to discuss the matter at a later time. He remembered being relieved by the absence of obvious physical changes in his friends.

Harry leaned back comfortably on his chair and closed his eyes until the elf broke the silence.

"I thought of returning with you. It came to me that I might be able to follow you. I'm sure there is a place for elven medicine in your world." Glorfindel's words brought him back from his reverie. Harry eyed the Balrog-slayer with a curious look but didn't say a word as this was a touchy subject that he really wished to avoid. It had seemed like a simple matter at first, having two of his friends in love with the same girl. Delicate but manageable. Things were simple as long as his friends remained in separate worlds and Hermione was certain of her feelings.

And therein lay the problem because Harry did know something had changed in Hermione. And while it had seemed at first that Hermione herself hadn't realized it because she'd greeted Glorfindel with enough friendly cheer to light a cave and spoken to him as one would expect someone in her situation, Harry knew different. During the battle of Minas Tirith Hermione had fought the Witch King with Gandalf and Harry had been close enough to see her look of shock as she'd sent an unexpected patronus against the cloaked figure, similar to one already present on the battlefield. No other wizard had seen Hermione's patronus change from an otter to a horse several times throughout the fight – or at least no one had spoken of it - but Harry thought he understood the meaning of the shifting patronus. The silvery horse that glowed brighter than most patronus. The white horse, Asphaloth. Glorfindel's horse.

Harry was terrified that any of the three people involved in the love triangle would ask him for his opinion on the matter, his mind running through different scenarios at lightning speed. He feared the effect of his own words.

"Harry. We lost you again. Breathe, Harry James Potter." Glorfindel said when the young wizard finally refocused on the two beings that he'd come to regard as close friends. "I was saying that I won't be joining you. I will go to the Undying Lands."

Harry didn't know what to say to that so he simply said nothing, sighing deeply and making a small non-committal sound. He opened his mouth but closed it again quickly, eyes looking down. If any of the others found his behavior strange, neither mentioned it.

"I'll really miss this place." Harry said with such longing that Elf and Wizard smiled gently at the same time. Unable to stop himself, Harry smiled as well.

After spending a few more minutes in companionable silence, Harry stood to leave and returned to the party. Gandalf followed him without a word but the elf remained by the fireplace, seemingly lost in thought.

Harry grinned at the sight that greeted him, chuckling at the look of amused wonder that Gandalf always sported when he watched Earth wizards doing their "strange little magic". The singing continued as the wizards apparated people left and right and did silly magic tricks. A few Rohirrim were now sporting bright pink hair and they patted him on the shoulder as he passed them. George must've somehow slipped a few canary creams to unsuspecting elves because Elladan was now facing a bright yellow bird looking completely stunned. The screeching bird didn't look particularly amused. Charlie had tried to end the spell only to be fail spectacularly and end up with the word 'spoilsport' tattooed across his forehead.

Harry saw Boromir laughing at their predicament – a much better sight than when his body had been pelted with an arrow and Harry been forced to use his meager knowledge healing magic to save the Gondorian's life. It was a miracle Boromir had survived the night and images of the dying friend still haunted his thoughts.

Kingsley and Aragorn, back from the Houses of Healing, had stopped talking in a corner and Kingsley was most likely convincing the soon-to-be King that the canary creams were completely harmless and none of the effects permanent in any way. Aragorn still looked worried but it wasn't long until they were talking again - though both looked relieved when Elrohir started moulting. Gandalf slowly made his way to them and Harry eyed the Power Trio for a few moments before losing interest.

Harry pulled out his wand, called out to the crowd and took a couple of photographs for himself and Glorfindel when most people at the table answered with a hearty cheer - even those who clearly had no idea Harry was doing. The fact that Hermione was right at the front in a good number of them was not accidental. Harry sat next to Ginny, exchanged a brief smile with his fiancé and then got dragged into a silly argument between Legolas and Gimli. He never remembered that conversation again, only that he'd laughed more than he had in a very long time.

Harry stood right in front of the glowing doorway. In his hands he held a heavy package that few beings, magical or otherwise, had ever seen. Denethor had been fierce in his desire to settle Boromir's life debt with Harry and had offered to gift him anything the young wizard might desire. Realizing that the proud old man wouldn't allow him to dismiss the need for repayment Harry had asked for the Steward's palantír, partly because he hoped the dark sphere would be able to transmit messages between the two worlds and perhaps even be used in a time of need to establish the connection again. Denethor had considered it a painful offering but fitting, a worthy gift to show his appreciation for Harry's deeds and perhaps there had been some relief in being finally parted from the seeing stone. The wizard nodded at Ron and Hermione who were waiting for him.

Hermione locked her gaze intensely on Glorfindel right before leaving, further proof that the Elf's feelings were not completely one-sided. Harry suspected it had taken the separation for Hermione to understand them but as she stood tall and gave the crowd a warm smile, her expression was determined and her choice clear. It was a decision that would forever accompany her every action and achievement as she rose in the ranks of the Ministry, fought for the rights of all magical creatures and against pureblood prejudice, shaping the world in such a way that her name would become part of the future editions of many of the books she so loved and common knowledge to future generations of wizards and witches. As she raised her own children and watched them grow and leave their mark in the world, with the great pride that only a parent can know. It was something she would take to her death bed, her greatest 'what if'. And while she never truly regretted her choice, Hermione would dream of the woods of Rivendell many time throughout her life.

Ron and Hermione crossed the threshold holding hands and disappeared in an instant. Glorfindel seemed to stop breathing for a moment but Harry saw no change in his expression.

Harry faced the friendly crowd and smiled before taking a deep breath. It finally dawned on him that he was truly leaving Middle Earth and the people in it. After so many months, it was hard to accept he would probably never see them again. When he hesitated, Aragorn moved closer and placed his hands on the wizard's shoulders. As he gave Harry a firm squeeze, the remaining members of the Fellowship followed the soon-to-be-King's example and gave him little pats on his arms and shoulders. Boromir laughed at Harry's glare when he ruffled the wizard's already messy hair and after a brief hesitation of his own, Faramir stepped closer as well and, ever the natural diplomat, shook hands with Harry as the wizard had once taught him. In each of their faces, Harry saw little moments of the journey, some good, some bad but all unforgettable. His eyes shone just a little bit brighter.

As the wizard took that final step backwards, he said goodbye to the world he'd come to regard as his second home. And while he had a feeling he would never see any of those faces again, he didn't doubt that one day their worlds would meet again.

The instant he went through doorway, the colorful magic reaction was almost violent. Most blinked and when their eyes later opened, Harry Potter and the portal to the other world were gone.

The End