Author's Note: I started writing this about a year ago, while I was most impatient for the fifth book. I had wanted to finish this before OoTP was released but couldn't get around to do it. After OoTP I went back to it, but found that I was too lazy to modify it according to canon, and so, the story begins as though there were no OoTP and the summer had gone on like the four previous ones, boring, but not as tense and frustrating as JKR made it to be in OoTP. Think of this story then as an alternate universe of OoTP.
At the same time that I started writing this I had also begun to read The Lord of The Rings, and since then I have been addicted to Middle-Earth and its people. I had started this story with the notion of trying to explore how Harry might feel if he were to be transported to the past and had to live for a while in the company of James Potter, his father, and friends. But somewhere along the first two chapters I began to want to incorporate Middle-Earth people into the story, and found the idea rather challenging. Hence, a hobbit and some elves were drawn into the tale, and surprisingly, they helped solve the problem of returning Harry to the present, though I still have to think of the exact way how.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of Harry Potter characters, they are JK Rowling's, hers and hers alone, I'm only borrowing. The hobbit and elves portrayed in this story are fashioned after those in The Lord of The Rings, The Hobbit and The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien.
HARRY POTTER AND THE LAST OF THE FIRSTBORNS
Chapter 1
THIS SIDE OF MAGIC
THE big round clock hanging from the ceiling of King's Cross Station was stuck at 9 o'clock, or so it seemed to Harry, who was standing alone, tired and hungry, watching the hustle and bustle of people around the platforms. He had been roused from sleep at five in the morning, then Uncle Vernon had driven him, yawning and grumbling, to London. He had fetched Harry a trolley, dumped Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage on top of it then drove away again without even a half-hearted goodbye. He seemed very glad though, to be rid of Harry, and Harry was as happy to leave the Dursleys for another year in Hogwarts. It was the worst vacation he had ever had. For two months he had been cooped up in Privet Drive 4, escaping Uncle Vernon's wrath whenever a letter came by owl.
Letters had come quite often from Sirius, from Hermione and Ron, and also from Hagrid. On Harry's birthday at the end of July, so many owls came bringing presents that Uncle Vernon were upset for a whole week afterward and Harry had to take care never to appear before him unless it was mealtime. But Harry didn't mind at all. He spent hours doing Seeker practice with the tiny Snitchett (golden miniature Snitch) that Hermione had sent as birthday present.
Ron had sent a box full of little bottles of Jinx-Ink (courtesy of Mssrs. Fred and George Weasleys, dedicated to artistic and high quality handwriting). There was a bottle of ink that would scream out the words you were writing; another ink wouldn't write at all, they just spread all over the page and created rude and silly images and words. Other ink would disappear five minutes after being read and after Dudley ransacked Harry's room and stole all his chocolate and candies, Harry had secretly written "The Goblins are out tonight, coming after fat, juicy boys to eat" on Dudley's bedroom wall. But when Dudley, trembling and very pale, returned with his parents, the writings had disappeared. Harry was told to sleep without dinner. But that night Dudley slept with his mother and father, and Harry could sleep without the sound of Dudley's snore coming like a drill that shook his bedroom walls (although in the morning Uncle Vernon complained bitterly that Dudley was so big he pushed his father over the side of the bed at least ten times during the night).
But Hagrid sent the best news of all. Beside a box of caramel candy (which Harry did not dare touch), he also wrote saying that Dumbledore had been contacting Remus Lupin. Hagrid did not get the full story, but he said there was the possibility that Lupin would fill in the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher once again. Sirius had sent a large and beautiful pearl. He said he found it while he was diving in some tropical waters. The pearl, said Sirius, had a strong antidote power and could be used to treat many kinds of poisonings.
Then Sirius did not send any news for weeks. He did not even write back after Harry told him that Uncle Vernon had forbidden him to go to Diagon Alley to buy his school things. Luckily Hermione and Ron had agreed to help, though Hermione said Ron was very silent long after they visited Harry's chamber of money in Gringott's. But they got Harry's books, potion ingredients, parchment and quills. Hermione sent a very detailed report of how they had used Harry's money ("Figuring Fungus: A Study of Poisonous Mushrooms by Mycoleptus McPhail 5 sickles 10 knuts, but due to my Prefect Privilege Prices card, I could get it for just 4 sickles 5 knuts…"). And because Hermione was a Gryffindor Prefect, she also got a discount when she bought Harry a new watch to replace the one which was broken during the Triwizard Tournament the year before.
Harry stared at the watch now. It was five minutes past nine. His stomach growled and writhed. He was very hungry. He had been sent to his room without dinner the day before, right after an owl flew in through the dining room window with a letter from Sirius. The letter was very short, written on a piece of very muddy parchment, and it had fallen into the bowl of cream of mushroom soup in front of Uncle Vernon. It simply said
"Listen to Dumbledore."
But Harry didn't understand what it meant. Dumbledore didn't tell him to do anything, well, unless you count the extra line on the letter Harry received from Hogwarts two weeks before.
"Due to a routine massive maintenance job, Platform 9 ¾ will not be open for students before 10:30 AM on August 31. We therefore request that students arrive in time before the train leaves as usual at 11."
Which means, of course, that Harry had to stay in the muggle platform for another one and a half hour, hungry, sore from the four hour drive, and still drowsy. Harry sat in one of the plastic chairs along one side of the station. There were coffee shops and eateries nearby, but Harry did not have any muggle money to pay for food. He thought of going to The Leaky Cauldron, but the idea of dragging his trunk all the way across London made Harry felt even weaker.
He slumped on his seat, feeling miserable, Hedwig hooting reproachfully in his cage, because she hadn't had anything to eat either. Harry thought of writing one of his friends, telling them to hurry, so they could meet in the station (and Harry, feeling rather ashamed, remembered that Mrs Weasley always made sandwiches for her children and Ron never liked his corned beef ones. Maybe, thought Harry hungrily, he could eat Ron's sandwiches.) But of course releasing Hedwig in the bustling train station would only attract a lot of attention.
Harry looked at his watch again. It was only 9:15, yet he felt as if he had been waiting for ages. He looked at the partition between Platform 9 and 10. He wondered what was going on in Platform 9 ¾. Were there heavy construction jobs done with the swishes and flicks of wands? Was it so dangerous to be there before 10:30? More dangerous than starving to death in muggle's platform? Harry could imagine the trolley laden with pasties and candies and cakes and chocolate… and his stomach grumbled so loudly that two old ladies sitting next to him turned and looked at Harry oddly. Harry felt himself go red, and he stood up, pushing his trolley in front of him. He paced the platform twice, then he moved to another platform and went back and forth among the busy travelers. Then, feeling very weak and tired, he collapsed on a chair and looked at his watch. 9:30!
Harry wiped the cold sweat off his brow and once again stared at the divide. His stomach grumbled again, louder than ever. Then his mind was resolved. At least in Platform 9 ¾ there would be the old lady with the food trolley. And Harry felt sure he could keep away from the maintenance site, however dangerous it was. After all, he had little energy left to do anything but standing up and pushing his trolley in a determined sort of way to the divide. He pushed his trolley into it.
And he was in Platform 9 ¾.