Disclaimer: Star of the Morning Light (author) does not and will not ever claim to own or dream of owning the rights to Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling or the Lord of the Rings trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien. Don't sue, because I won't hand over my daughter, no matter how cute she is…

"plain speech"

"elvish"

Elven word

Chapter One: Oh Don't I Wish…

The enemy of the Wizarding world for more than fifty years was now dead. All the pain, suffering...it was all over...

Harry Potter wiped his lip of the blood dribbling down his chin, the thick fluid having become cold from the winter air surrounding him.

Harry looked around him at the grounds of Hogwarts. The beautiful castle still stood like the sanctuary it had proven to become in the years-long war, the cold winter night freezing the bare ground beneath his feet. The blood-soaked soil was slowly icing over at the dropping temperatures, leaving frosted red flakes over the blades of grass.

Bodies of Death Eaters, students and friends, teachers and Aurors littered the Hogwarts grounds, werewolves and vampires and other Dark Creatures had been torn apart and lit aflame, causing the macabre scene around the teenager to become just that much more horrifying. Light always brought things into startling clarity. The glistening of a human heart on the ground, devoid of any beat to keep someone alive. Blood heavy on the air, thick enough to taste on the tongue.

Harry fell to his knees, hands cupped over his mouth. He finally let go and allowed himself to vomit on the blood-stained grass of Hogwarts School, his world fading to black.

The first thing Harry Potter realized when he started to awaken was that it was rather hard to move...oh yea, injuries. Those normally made a habit of hindering movement. Something about not opening old wounds and erasing a mad nurse's hard work.

A familiar sight greeted his eyes as his vision cleared to show a wall decorated with pictures and four-poster beds. The infirmary.

Harry rolled his eyes sitting up. Guilt was tearing at his heart from having killed so many human beings…Harry quickly shook his head, pressing his arm across his chest as he lay against his pillows. They weren't humans. A man who killed, tortured, and exploited his fellow brothers was a mad dog…and should be dealt the same fate.((Kudos to whoever can tell me where this quote came from!))

Another of Harry's many hard-to-learn lessons. It was supposed to make it easier for him to kill the Death Eaters and Voldemort. It actually did work. Once the guilt of killing humans came over him, he merely thought about all that they had done…of course, the guilt never entirely disappeared, but it helped. At least he wouldn't be driven insane and lose his head like so many others did in the school when they heard if they fought in the Final Battle that they'd have to kill humans.

He didn't think they were weak, oh no…they were some of the more sane ones. He just couldn't deny his fate as the supposed and socially-accepted 'Savior of the Wizarding World'.

He snorted at the thought of his title. It was so stupid. He didn't want to be a savior. He didn't want to be anything other than what he was…But that begged the question: What exactly was he now?

"Well, about time you woke up," said a tired-sounding voice from his bedside.

Harry blinked, looking to the side to see Remus. His tawny hair was still peppered with more gray than should be prevalent in his not-even middle-age, his weathered face only making his whiskey-colored eyes that much more prominent. ((I know in the movies his eyes are blue but I just never really felt that was right...Creative liberty!))

"Remus!" He yelped, hugging the elder man he'd come to see as a father and good friend. If it weren't for the werewolf he probably would not be alive with all he'd taught him…

"Hello, Harry…" he laughed and the sound of joy something Harry cherished from the werewolf. "So, are you sure that you're alright? I mean, you have been out of it for near three days."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sure I'll be fine from now on that Voldemort's gone. But…what am I going to do now?" This had been something niggling at Harry's mind for a good bit of time…with Voldemort gone, what was there for him to do?

"Hm? Harry? What are you talking about…oh? You mean what you're going to do now that the reason you've really been alive this whole time is gone you don't know what to do with your life." Remus smiled sadly and sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, grasping his hands in both of his larger ones. "Harry, I know that you'll be able to do anything you want. You wanted to become an Auror, didn't you?"

"Well…yeah. But I don't really know if I can anymore…"

"What?"

"Nothing; just forget I said it. Now, when can I get out of here?" he whimpered.

Remus just laughed.

That sure wasn't a good sign….

Of course, it was another week before Madame Pomfrey would let him out of the Hospital Wing. When he did, things were almost the same as before…only now he had to deal with being slapped on the back so much he was becoming black and blue, and so many people congratulating him for defeating the Dark Lord that he could practically guess exactly what they were going to say by how they started it. Sure, sometimes he was wrong, but it wasn't often.

The biggest surprise was when the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour himself, came to the school during the Christmas Feast.

After a few minutes of talking with McGonagall, Scrimgeour straightened up and held a goblet firmly in his hand. "Would Harry Potter please come up to the Staff table?"

Harry blinked, and the entire Hall went silent.

The Boy-Who-Was-Now-Confused stood up from his seat between Hermione and Ginny and strode up to the Minister. "Yes, sir?"

Scrimgeour cleared his throat and pulled something out of the pocket of his gray cloak. "Harry James Potter, I, Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic, do hereby award you with a special award that has never before been given. In honor of your will to save our home, our world and our way of life and to teach us all a good, hard lesson, it is my duty and privilege, neigh, the honor to present to you the Order of Merlin, Unity Class. For in saving us you used the bravery of a Gryffindor, the cunning of a Slytherin, the selflessness and understanding of a Hufflepuff and the knowledge and wisdom of a Ravenclaw. With this you shall be the first and hopefully last recipient of such an award, Mr. Potter."

Harry's eyes must have widened to the size of the plates on the table. "Wh-what? I – I – I don't…I don't know…I don't know what to say…." He stuttered, completely floored. They had created a new Order of Merlin? For HIM?

Scrimgeour held out a glass case, which held what seemed to be a wand. It was beautiful fourteen-inch cherry wood with silver and gold inlaid into it in the forms of thin, twisting vines. Entangled in the vines were the very symbols of Harry's supposed 'winning traits'...a golden lion with ruby eyes and tail, a silver snake with emeralds set into the eyes and scales, a badger of pure topaz and obsidian and a raven of sapphire and onyx.

"Th-Thank you, Minister…but I," Harry couldn't seem to get all of the words out but Professor McGonagall cut in before he could finish his refusal.

"Mr. Potter. I don't think it wise for you to refuse this. In fact, we all insist upon you accepting the Order. We are all very proud of you, Mr. Potter. Our lives were in your hands and we could not have been safer. You saved us all. Now, accept your Order and we shall all return to the feast." She sat back down.

Harry smiled softly. He never really could argue with the Transfiguration Professor/Headmistress of Hogwarts. "Thank you, Minister Scrimgeour. I accept." He bowed and took it gently into his hands.

Scrimgeour actually smiled. "Harry, my boy, I'm proud of you. Hopefully no such kind of danger shall ever walk the Earth. But if it does, we know we can count on you." With that, Scrimgeour left in a swirl of robes, striding out of the Great Hall.

And hopefully out of Harry's life forever.

Hurriedly, Harry returned to his seat, and finished eating, still pretty much in shock.

Later that night found Harry sitting at the window of the Boys' Seventh Year dorm, the window wide open.

He sighed, petting Hedwig. "Oh Hedwig…what am I going to do? I mean, everyone expects me to now be some modern-day-save-the-day-superhero. How am I going to try and have the normal life I've wanted for so long? I just…" he sighed, pausing in his petting. "I just wish I could live somewhere where I'm not some famous savior. To just be…normal. Or just not be Harry Potter anymore. But somebody else entirely…if only wishes came true, eh, Hedwig?"

She hooted softly in response, nudging his hand with her beak.

Harry smiled softly, and allowed sleep to take him right there on the windowsill. His last thought rang throughout his head even as he fell into the world of sleep…

I wish I could stop being Harry Potter and the Savior…I wish I could live a life where people don't know me…

But our dear Harry should know by now to watch what you wish for…as it could come true quite easily.

In the High Heavens two women stared into a pool of water, watching the sleeping young man as he made his wish…

"Why don't we grant his wish?" asked a blonde to a redhead beside her.

"Are you insane? Do you know what father would do if we messed with the mortals again, Arian!" the redhead screeched, red curls bouncing around her round, pretty face and emerald eyes. Maier was a head taller than her blonde counterpart, her figure definitely on the curvier side. Her red hair was pulled back behind her head with a mother-of-pearl clip, falling in a waterfall down the middle of her back.

Both women were dressed in matching white gowns, trimmed in gold. Traditional, old-fashioned one-shouldered toga gowns.

The woman now identified as Arian shrugged. "So what? Come on! We'll do everything for this one! And I like him. He's so adorable! We'll erase his memory of this life so that the only thing he remembers will be fleeting images of his parents and his two friends. Those will be the only things he will remember. Come on, Maier!"

Maier sighed. "Fine. But just this once. If father finds out, it's all on your head!"

"Isn't it always?" the other woman grumped, turning back to the pool.

The two joined hands over the mirror, the image of Harry's sleeping face embedded into the glass of the mirror. Soft words spilled from their lips, winding around Harry's soul as his body left the world it had once been such a part of…and was now leaving forever.

The goddesses wound their magic over him, imbibing him with their powers to bring about their will. There were sacrifices that had to be made, his memory pulled from him in ribbons, coiled into the deep recesses of his mind. But a tie to the world had to be created...And so the goddesses set to true work, readying the body of Harry Potter, no longer known as such, for it's arrival in it's new home.