Not that many reviews, but who cares! Sorry this took so long, but compared to other things in my life this story isn't very important.

As an answer to JuMiku, yes there will be surviving characters of LotR, as well as a few dead ones.

Now for some action as well as more answers.

All praises constructive criticisms welcome!

--

The Merging

Summer again. There was something about summer that just wanted to bring a blood curdling scream to Harry's throat. Ah, yes. The Dursleys. Staring vacantly at the wall across from him, watching the paint peeling, was fifteen year old Harry Potter, soon to be sixteen in four hours' time. Dark shadows could be seen under his eyes, a sign of pondering during the sleeping hours, and even darker thoughts that reflected in the boy's eyes were churning around like a maelstrom inside his mind. Thoughts on what would happen to him on the hour of his magical maturity, and what he could do to the Dursleys with his newly gained power. Never in his wildest dreams would Harry have thought that his soul, his very essence, would merge with the ancient behemoth that was Melkor, the Vala of Cold and Darkness. And yet the boy, soon to be a man, was frightened. Frightened of what he might become with the power of a god, frightened of what he had already become. By all accounts that Harry had read in the Raven's Nest, it was Melkor that had spawned all the evils that existed in the world today, all the discordant emotions that lead towards violence, feuds, wars, murders…

Rusty springs creaked as Harry crawled off his bed, stretched his arm out beneath it and pulled out the loose floorboard. Reaching into the space and pulling out his photo album Harry thought about all the other things he had found in the Raven's Nest behind the portrait of the mermaid in the prefect's bathroom, courtesy of Luna Lovegood's assistance. A faint smile crossed his face as he thought that; evidently, Luna was definitely not as loony as she looked. There was of course the apparent family portrait that undeniably showed that he, Harold James Potter, was not only the heir of a founder, but was the last direct descendant of the infamous Queen Mab. Not forgetting, of course, that dear Luna was a distant cousin of his.

There was also the discovery of several journals that were hand written by Queen Mab, who was the very last mortal servant of Melkor. One of the exploits detailed was the first goblin rebellion, which was instigated by Queen Mab herself. Other information that Harry found interesting was that the Goblins of today were originally a race created by Melkor that had once been one of the most powerful evils in the world. But nothing Harry found could top what he considered to be the most vital piece of information that he hoped would help him survive. A prophesy made by Queen Mab. A prophesy that stated:

Dark Lord of soul and snake he may be,

Yet his power will wane before the Bringer of Chaos and Order

Darkness shall churn and Light will sing in the

Coming of Revolution.

The real challenger, of light and wizards' blood,

Come storming through the gates of Heaven.

And blood shall be spilt in the Freedom of the Wicked

The storm will rage and waken The Demon,

Disguised as beauty and pureness.

Yet through jealousy and rage will she try to bleed this world dry.

Only her own creation can pierce her rotten heart.

A war, a revolution, an old grudge,

Before peace reigns true on Earth.

Valinor, the next conquest.

Harry had no clue as to what this prophesy could mean, but he was fairly sure that the 'Dark Lord of soul and snake' was Voldemort, and that the 'Bringer of Chaos and Order' was himself. One thing he was decided on though was that there would be a war, and a long and bloody one at that. With the powers of a Vala at his disposal, Harry was determined that he would be the one to win it. Opening his photo album to the page of his parents wedding, and seeing the happiness and laughter and tears of joy, Harry bowed his head in unending sadness and promised himself that he would not see families all over the world torn asunder. A promise made in vain Harry realised it may be, but he had to make it all the same, if only to try and protect his conscience from the raging storm of the coming war.

Three and a half hours to go. Boredom as well as trepidation set in. He needed to do something. Anything! He knew that he couldn't stay here, as the monitoring charms on the house would more likely than not pick up the burst of power of his merging with the Vala soul. Making up his mind, knowing that what he was about to do would set him on an irreversible path, Harry took hold of his wand, shrunk his trunk and put it in his trouser pocket and released his faithful owl Hedwig from her cage. He would have to be swift now as the ministry would have picked up that show of magic almost instantly.

Three hours and twenty minutes later, Harry had made his way to a cheap motel room in the heart of London. Sitting down on the couch, Harry rested his feet on the table while calmly watching Parkinson interview Whoopi Goldberg on the TV. Only ten minutes to go.

--

Ten minutes later,

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

Headmaster's Office

Sleek silver contraptions were laid out over the majority of the spindly wooden desks. And in the throne like chair that sat behind the great oak desk in the centre of the grand office was one Albus Dumbledore. Right now, of course, Dumbledore was wondering where Harry Potter had gone. Not only had the Ministry's monitors picked up the burst of magic from 4 Privet Drive, but so had his. Dumbledore breathed a weary sigh. Things were not going his way. The damn boy had fled his house, and with it the blood wards that protected him during the summer. Fudge was constantly on his case about the Department of Mysteries debacle, wanting Harry and his friends to go on trial for breaking and entering the department, as well as destroying ministry property. And his scheme to open Harry's mind up to Voldemort had failed spectacularly. It seemed that no matter how many holes Severus made in Harry's natural mental defences, they always repaired themselves, which should have been theoretically impossible to do without any training in the art of occlumency. This now made Dumbledore's plan to have Harry's soul join with Voldemort's unattainable. It seemed that he would have to train Harry to defeat Voldemort after all, once he found the boy that is.

The old headmaster was brought out of his musings as one of his many instruments began emitting a high pitched squeal. He moved over to the instrument, a solid silver triangle that floated within the ever-moving polished iron rings. As the squealing grew in pitch, the rings sped up their movement, until the shape of the triangle was blurred. With a snap, the rings stopped moving, the triangle showing a clear view of a cheap motel room on its surface. The high pitched squealing had stopped, but what attracted Dumbledore's attention was the boy that was lying on the ground in the middle of the cheap motel room. Harry Potter.

"So there you are, my dear, dear boy…" Dumbledore set off immediately for that cheap motel room, in the centre of London.

--

Same time,

Unknown Location

Voldemort suddenly lifted his head from the schematics of Azkaban Prison, feeling a head rush of enormous power reverberating around his mind having originated from a connection he had only recently become aware of. A connection that led to the mind of Harry Potter. Eyes narrowing in both hatred and anticipation, the Dark Lord beckoned forward the huddled figure of a being more rat than man, and sibilantly said, "Wormtail, it appears that our, friend, young Harry has surfaced from the hidey hole that Dumbledore spirited him away to. I go now to claim my vengeance, and if anything should happen to the schematics I shall be most displeased. Understood?"

"But-but master, my lord, why not send your servants in your stead?" Pettigrew called out as his master stalked through the doors and headed for the apparition point outside wards of his own design. The balding man stood alone in the derelict ball room, moth-eaten curtains barely hiding the contents within from the moonlight outside, as his master's quickly fading voice echoed back to him. "My death eater numbers are too few and would not last if they encountered any resistance, you fool! I shall deal with the boy myself. Once and for all."

Pettigrew's huddled form started to shake, his breathing becoming more and more shallow with every step that his master took to the apparition point, to the son of the man he willingly betrayed. His watery eyes slowly slid shut as tear tracks started to mark his face. And as the bitter chill seeped into his bones the sinner brokenly whispered, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry……I'm s-sorry."

--

Five minutes later,

Ministry of Magic,

Auror Offices

Panic ensued as people rushed about, being trampled in the stampede as alarms blared all around. Rufus Scrimgeour, the recently promoted Minister of Magic, stood in the middle of his former domain, waiting for the rest of his troops to scrabble to a halt in front of him. Trepidation as well as fierce determination filled his aging body as the realisation quickly struck him that what he was about to send his loyal aurors into would be the first real battle of the second serpents war. The former auror Head had only been minister for a few weeks, shoved into the hot seat where reputations quickly crumbled, but he'd be damned if he let the ministry itself crumble into ruin during the storm that had swiftly gathered. Rufus would not let the foulness that was the Dark taint the pinnacle of justice that the ministry should have been any longer, and not the cesspit of corruption that same Darkness had morphed it into.

As the last of the aurors fell into line, Rufus wondered briefly how much of a fight he would have on his hands to beat back the corruption that currently had a stranglehold on the ministry, his ministry.

"My comrades, today a power surge like nothing we've ever recorded has been tracked to the heart of downtown London, where we are fairly confident a battle is taking place. As of this moment, in order to keep the peace, I am ordering you to use lethal force if necessary. We are at war people, there can be no prisoners. Understood?"

It was a grim speech, but one that he had to make. No one spoke. Not any objections at all. Good. With a wave of his hand, Minister Scrimgeour sent his troops into battle, not knowing the full consequences of his decision. The alarms never stopped blaring.

--

Downtown London

Of all the things that Nymphadora Tonks had seen in her relatively young life, nothing could top what she was seeing now. The bloodiness of war. The moment the contingent of aurors had apparated into the apparent battle taking place in the heart of London, Benjamin Knightsbridge, only twenty-one, had his right ear cut off, his torso shredded to pieces, and his left eye boiled in quick succession. While the rest of the aurors flew into the attack, Tonks flew down to Benjamin's side, hoping that her limited array of healing spells would help him live. He died five minutes later, curled into her arms and whimpering like an injured animal with his last dying breaths. And now she stood, covered in her work mate's warm blood, watching as Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort fought while the other aurors tried to assist the headmaster and died for their troubles. To Tonks it seemed the two mages fought like wild dogs, trying to tear lumps out of each other and not caring who got caught in the middle. And all for what, dominance?

"TONKS! Get over here, we need you!" screamed Shaklebolt. Tonks looked over to see Kingsely, the new auror head, directing the surviving troops to take cover and deflect any spells the Dark Lord tried to use against Dumbledore. Instead of doing as she was told, the flighty young auror raised her wand high above her head and bellowed her first words since apparating to the battle, "FOR BENJY!" With that short proclamation Nymphadora Tonks charged towards Voldemort all the while shooting spells in quick succession, only to get in the way of both mages curses. And so Tonks died of a shattered spine and a ruptured heart.

Kingsley and all remaining aurors cried out in dismay and redoubled their efforts in hindering Voldemort's attack on Dumbledore, causing the dark lord to snarl in rage and apparate out of the fight. With the battle now done with, the Hogwarts Headmaster turned to the surviving aurors and with a commiserating tone uttered, "It is with a heavy heart that I thank you for driving Voldemort away at the cost of your comrades, yet they have not died in vain. Rest assured the dark lord shall be defeated, no matter how many more lives it must take. I wish you all the best of luck in the coming war." The venerated Headmaster then disapparated back to Hogwarts, unknowing of the damage he had just caused to his reputation among the aurors.

--

Lovegood Manor,

Living Room

The décor was rather pleasing, Harry supposed. The light blues and tarnished greys went well together, although the only downside in his opinion was that the living room looked so stately that it didn't even look lived in. It did not have that homey feel to it. Lifting the china teacup he had to his lips and taking a sip of the creamy tea Harry thought back on how he had come to be in the living room of the Lovegood's. It turned out that all Lovegood's possessed the knowledge of the location of the Raven's Nest, and so had passed it on to each new generation. Although it seemed that not only did the Lovegoods know the location of the Raven's Nest, each generation had visited it frequently, coming to learn about the prophesy and thereafter swearing to assist the Bringer of Chaos and Order in any way they could. Which means that Luna and her father knew about his true identity even before he did, thereby leading to them both keeping a watch on his house at the beginning of this summer. And so when he left the Dursley's to venture into the heart of downtown London they followed him.

The bottom line of the tale is that when he got into his hotel room Luna and her father made their presence known to him and proceeded to explain that when his magical maturity occurred he would more likely than not be knocked out by the effects. What was even more worrying to him at the time was that the force of his magic maturing and his powers becoming godly would indubitably send out a shockwave that would alert both the ministry and the dark lord, as well as possibly Dumbledore, to his presence in London. So a minute after his magical maturation had occurred the two Lovegoods transported both themselves and Harry to their home by use of a portkey they had made beforehand.

All in all Harry was rather pleased by the outcome of events; he could imagine perfectly Dumbledore scratching his bearded chin in puzzlement as to the unknown location of his golden boy. And here he was sitting in a safe location basking in his recently matured power, which was disturbingly faintly shining through his skin, making him look like a human light bulb no doubt. He raised the china teacup to his lips for a second sip when it was knocked out of his hands by the Lovegood patriarch, who was flying from his position next to Harry on the sofa with his wand in hand towards the foyer. The young man's confusion was solved by Luna's utterance, "Don't worry Harry, Daddy's just gone to deal with someone who has breached the manor's wards."

Oh dear, thought Harry wryly, not so safe after all then.