Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Lord of the Rings books and/or movies is not mine. Also, the part about 'The Second Sight' was branched from the series 'The Lost Years of Merlin' by T.A. Barron. I've only changed some of the properties and therefore, do not own anything by him. Take note that information in this story comes from various websites online, some information in the movies, and books. It will NOT be one hundred percent correct, and if I do get something immensely wrong, please feel free to correct me on it. I'm not a wiz at LotR's, so I will not say I am.
A/N: Yes, yes… another story from me, but this had never had many intentions of being posted on here - yet. But by popular demand, I have decided to post it up although updates will be slow. I have… Four stories going at the moment, plus a planning for a sequel to SC, then this story. That's SIX stories. SIX! I'm surprised I'm even alive at the moment because of all the stories plaguing me. Please don't kill me. I plan to update all my stories (Although WatC and IB are slow-going, as they're going through reconstruction). So er.. Enjoy?
Seeing An Eternity
By: xScenex
Chapter One
The twirling objects on a deceased Albus Dumbledore's desk caught the attention of one boy. His name was Harry James Potter, proud Gryffindor, and first-year seeker and fifth year captain of his Quidditch team.
This orphan boy had seen a lot in his life - even death, every since before he was a two years old. It was something he was becoming used to, but he still didn't like it. He hated it with a passion. It's what he saw in his dreams, it's what he heard in his fears when the Dementor's got too close to him.
But no matter how hard he tried, he would never escape it.
He knew that, and tried to accept it but it just wouldn't work. He worried for his friends, and worried for his family, though they weren't much to count for. But they were still blood related, his only relatives. Even if they had treated him horribly, they were still living beings that he had known since he was a baby.
Death was a serious thing, in his opinion.
Sighing heavily, Harry Potter walked around the mahogany desk to where the sword of Godric Gryffindor hung on the wall. Memories fluttered into his mind at the sight of the jewel encrusted sword. The first time he'd called the object forth was the time that he had almost lost Ginny.
He knew he would have to leave her soon, in fear of endangering her and her family further. It was bad enough that he was friends with most of the Weasley's. Bill had already gotten caught up in the war with the dark wizard Voldemort, leaving him mauled in St. Mungo's wizarding hospital, Mr. Weasley had nearly died of a snake bite a few years back, and Ginny had also almost died, as previously stated, in the Chamber of Secrets. Not to mention that Ron, his best friend since first year, had nearly been poisoned, but thanks to an old school book that belonged to a certain professor, he had learned just what would help get the poison out of his friends system and was able to save him.
He blinked a few times and ran his hand along the hilt of the sword, admiring the details on it, and looking at the writing upon the sword's blade.
It seemed like such a long time ago that he had first set eyes on the sword. Such a long time ago, when he was innocent and carefree - or, mostly carefree. Him and his friends always headed out for trouble, whether or not they wanted it.
Smiling ruefully at memories of the old days, he allowed his hand to encircle the cold hilt of the sword. He hefted it up off the wall and weighed it, bobbing it up and down a few times.
"This blighter is pretty heavy," he mused, having forgotten the weight up until then.
He lifted it up, holding it up with to hands. The tip nearly touched a low hanging chandelier as he held it straight up above his head. After a moment, his arms became tired and he slowly lowered it, but he lost his grip slightly and it tumbled halfway out of his hands and the tip crashed into some shiny instruments on the desk beside him.
Cursing his luck, he tried to catch the sword. As he did, the tip dragged through some shiny liquid that had begun pouring out of two different objects and had combined. Sizzling sounded from the fluid-like substance and Harry grimaced as a horrid smell filled his nose.
He moved the sword out of the liquid, hoping the blade hadn't been damaged in the process of his clumsiness.
When he finally had it lifted high enough so that it was safe from any more of the odd substance, he realized something was wrong. The sword felt.. Different somehow. He stared at it, scrutinizing it fiercely, but nothing caught his eye.
Eventually he shrugged and walked back to where the sword had hung. As he lifted it up to place it back on the wall, a bright red light erupted from out of nowhere and his head burst into complete and utter pain.
He was blinded by the sudden luminosity and cringed, using one arm to cover his eyes from view of the light, that lasted for well over a minute while he clenched his teeth. The pain was excruciating, almost as worse than when his scar would hurt. It felt as if the air around himself was pulled away forcibly, ripping away his skin in the backlash of wind.
In truth, the air around him crackled with raw energy; enough of it to strip all pigments from his skin, hair, and eyes. The acidic smell filled his nostrils, rendering him practically senseless.
After what seemed like an eternity, the light died down and the pain in his head receded to where he could at least think properly through the throbbing in his temples. He moved his arm but still couldn't see past the black that clouded his vision.
He blinked rapidly a few times, but it didn't help. He strained his ears, hoping to hear something that might tell him what had happened, but he was greeted by the chirping of… birds? A light breeze picked up from somewhere, bringing with it the lingering scent of grass and flowers.
He stumbled a bit and fell to his knee's, Gryffinor's sword falling to his side. He felt grass beneath his hands, and dirt. Lots of dirt.
"Bugger," he whispered, frantically using his hands to try and find anything familiar. His sight hadn't come back yet, and it was beginning to scare him. What had that light done to him?
His breathing became frantic, and his fingers went over cold metal. The sword. The only thing he could recognize. He picked it up carefully, trying not to slice his fingers with the blade and got onto his knee's. Once more, he strained his hearing.
Only the sound of birds, and the rustle of what he presumed to be leaves came to him through the pounding of his heart and head.
His mind raced with many conclusions - had he touched a well planted portkey that had been set for Dumbledore? Was he in immediate danger? Was this the doing of Death Eaters?
Rubbing at his eyes roughly, he tried his best to get the blackness out of his eyes. It still didn't help. Fear gripped his heart and his breathing still wouldn't even out. He felt as if he were about to hyperventilate.
Instead of letting himself go into complete shock, he forced himself to breathe. As he exhaled, he felt a bit better. That's it, just breathe.. Breathe… this can't be too bad. I just have to find a way back to Hogwarts, and I'll be okay, he thought to himself.
He pushed himself off the ground fully this time, stumbling a bit as he couldn't tell where he was going. He used his feet to feel his way around, and used one outstretched hand while the other clutched onto the sword tightly to make sure he wouldn't run into anything.
After he stabled himself, he decided to do the only thing possible in his situation, even if he wasn't allowed it - apparition.
He took in a deep breath and imagined the area by the Shrieking Shack at Hogsmeade in his mind and turned on heel, remembering the three steps he'd learned in the lessons.
Nothing happened.
His heart restricted with uncertainty. Was there an apparition ward around the area? He tried once more to travel via wizarding way, but still he had no luck.
Maybe I only have to walk out of the area? he thought to himself. It was easier said than done, as his vision was still black. He felt a cold dread in his heart. What was happening? He took a tentative step forward, breathing in deeply and quietly, trying to keep all other senses alert.
After nothing came to him, he took another step, holding his empty hand out to make sure he wouldn't run into anything while he fumbled about.
A few times while he walked, he nearly ran into a tree, or stumbled over a root as his senses weren't completely used to what was going on. He needed to get back to the school, and go to Madam Pomfrey - she would be able to help him. Why couldn't he see?
The boy could feel the sun against his back through his black cloak and the heat was nearly overwhelming. Harry wanted nothing more than to shrug the cloth off, but knew it best to keep it on - it would provide more of a disguise if the need be, and it also protected him better than nothing would.
He paused and reached into his pocket for his wand. His fingers wrapped around a familiar wooden piece and he pulled it out, the calming effect of the magic flowing to his fingers. He felt a bit better with his wand, and cursed himself for not taking it out sooner, although in the back of his mind, he wasn't sure how he'd use it against anyone if he couldn't see at the moment.
The boy didn't know how long he had walked but to him, it felt like hours, and he wasn't getting anywhere. It was obvious he was in a wood of sorts, but not a dense one. The trees were evened out and the shrubbery sparse. Finally, he couldn't walk on anymore without tumbling over from exhaustion.
Harry didn't know what time it was and he had no idea where he was. He was stranded, temporarily at a great disadvantage. He unconsciously rubbed at his eyes for the umpteenth time in the past half hour, trying to see if there was any change in the vision.
No luck.
Sighing wearily, he sat there on a tree root, quite alert with his back against the trunk. The sounds around him told him of evening, but he wasn't sure if that was true. Things could be deceiving.
After a few moments of listening, he figured it safe to relax a bit. He placed the sword down on the ground next to him, leaning against the large tree he sat near. He slowly fingered his wand, feeling sparks ignite from the end and singe the grass below him.
"Little Orc," a sudden voice boomed from behind him, sounding menacing.
He jumped up, whipping his body around to where he thought the voice had come from. The ground seemed to shake and he tried to keep his balance as it threatened to fail him.
"Who's there?" he yelled shakily, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.
"An Orc in my woods, bararum!"
The sound was coming from above where he had sat. The very voice grumbled loudly and echoed loudly in Harry's ears. He winched a bit, "Who's there?"
The voice grumbled again, deep and irritated, "Ashtwig, some call me."
Harry was flabbergasted, "Ashtwig? Do you actually think I'd believe that?"
"Believe what you will, little Orc."
"What is an Orc?" Harry shouted angrily, stepping back many paces until his back was against a tree. He felt his heart skip too many times for comfort. Sweat poured down his face and he was scared of what was to come. "And who's side are you on?"
"I am on nobody's side, because nobody is on my side, little Orc."
"What is an Orc?" Harry shouted, feeling angry at the riddles.
"Bararum.." the voice groused, "If you are no Orc, then what are you?"
"I'm a… a wizard!" Harry said to the person uncertainly, who's name he had already forgotten. If that had even been his real name. He wasn't sure if he should have said that, because he might have run into a muggle.
"A wizard? There is only Gandolf and Saruman. I have never heard word of a Black Wizard, but maybe you are, maybe you aren't. Word doesn't get too far in these areas of the wood."
"Black Wizard? If you're referring to a dark wizard, I'm not like Voldemort!"
There was some shuddering of the bushes around him, and Harry felt the ground shake once more. He suddenly got a jolted picture in his mind of something large and green in front of him. "Bloody hell…" he whispered, gripping onto his wand tighter and holding it out in front of him.
"I speak of Saruman, little Orc. I have no knowledge of whom you call Voldemort," the voice bubbled loudly from above Harry and suddenly before he could react, he was thrust off his feet and pitched high up in the air by something wrapping around his waist. The force was so great that it knocked his wand right out of his hand and he could hear it clatter against something metallic - the sword.
He let out an angry and frustration cry as he was vaguely reminded of those times at the Whomping willow. It sounded as if hundreds of branches were whipping about and around him though none touched him except for the something that had encircled around his waist.
"Let me go," he cried out in fright as he whipped his face around to try and see anything. There was nothing. He began to struggle, "Put me down!"
"Struggling won't get you anywhere," the voice was louder now; it was closer. The thing around his waist tightened its grip, although it was not painful - just a little disconcerting.
"What are you doing to me? What are you - let me down!" Harry felt the rising panic mount completely. His hands reached out and tried to get the thing off him, but it held fast. He felt rough bark under his fingers and palms as he ripped at it, trying to get it loose. It felt oddly like a rough branch.
"A tree?" he cried out in disdain, his mind flaring with the most ludicrous thoughts. "Vine?"
"Tree?" irritation boomed around him, "I'm am an Ent, or that's what they call me."
"What is an Ent?" Harry asked, his mood bubbling almost overboard. "I've never heard of an Ent before! You actually believe I'd take your word? Now let me down!"
"I'm honored by your confidence," the thing said, amusement evident in the voice. "There is something about you - maybe it's the eyes, but I will trust you."
Harry was utterly confused. What was this thing talking about? And he thought McGonagall's lesson's confused him half the time…
"I don't even know who - or what you are!" Harry once again struggled to get out of it's grasp.
"I'm an Ent," it repeated.
"What is an Ent, then?" he spat, and focused his attention on the spot below him where the sound seemed to come from.
As he stared long enough through the darkness that plagued his vision, something blurry came to him like static on a television - something that looked like a tree, but had eyes… and it was speaking… It had to be a dark creature.
"An Ent is a Ent. Nothing more," it grumbled.
"So you're not a wizard?" he asked shakily, making sure what he saw wasn't just his imagination. He wasn't sure if he'd like it to be or not. It was all too disconcerting.
"Wizard? You are a strange one, little Orc."
"I'm not an - an orc, whatever that is!"
"Orc's, they come with fire, they come with axes. Gnawing, biting, breaking, hacking, burning. Destroyers and usurpers. Curse them!"
Harry suddenly got the feeling that if the thing holding him thought he was an orc, then he'd be in huge trouble.
"I'm not an orc, okay? I'm - I'm a wizard. My name's Harry," he tried to work the words around the best he could without making himself known completely. It was the only way out, in his mind.
"You call yourself a wizard? But you should not go telling just anybody. You'll be letting out your own right name if you're not careful."
The Ent, Harry scowled, was talking in Riddles and it was starting to royally irritate him. "Look, I don't know who or what you are exactly, but could you let me down?"
There was some shifting, "Don't be hasty. If you're wanting your twig and your sword, here," there was rustling, a bit of creaking and he descended slightly, then Harry suddenly felt the objects in front of him.
He reached out quickly and snatched his wand first, then carefully took the sword that was hovering in front of his face. He wasn't sure what was going on - an enemy wouldn't have given him both weapons back.
"You're not with Voldemort then?" he questioned, obviously confused.
"I don't know this Voldemort you speak of."
"So you're not… you don't know anything about the wizarding world?" Harry gulped. He may be in trouble if the ministry found out about that…
"Wizarding world? There are naught but few wizards in Middle Earth and you speak of a Wizarding World?"
"There are more than a few wizards," Harry said hotly, shifting and holding his wand out in front of him towards were the voice was coming from.
"I only know of Gandalf and Saruman," it said, "But there are many things I do not understand."
"Who is Gandalf and Saruman?" Harry asked, the names completely foreign on his tongue as he struggled to pronounce them.
"You are still young," the thing observed, and Harry had a sudden feeling of being observed. "And you do not understand many things as well."
Harry thought for a moment, trying to get the odd feeling of scrutiny out of his system, "What are you going to do to me?"
There was a bout of silence before there was an answer. "I do not know yet."
"You won't take me to Voldemort, will you?" he pleaded, hoping that he had been found by someone remotely decent. They could have been worse, right? At least they weren't trying to kill him… yet.
"So if you're not going to kill me, could you at least tell me where we're at?" he asked, lowering his wand finally. He was pretty much trapped there now and since the Ent didn't seem to be a threat, he decided that he could let his guard down - only slightly.
"We are in Fangorn, forest of Fangorn."
That confused Harry. "Erm… Fangorn? Is that in Britain?"
"Britain, no, never heard of it. We are in Middle Earth."
"Middle… Earth…?" Harry's eyebrows rose. "Where's that?"
"You are strange, young Master Harry."
He visibly blanched at 'master Harry'. It sounded like something Dobby would say, "I'm not the strange one," he said irritably, "You're the one talking in riddles and talking about thing's I've never heard of. You've got to be bloody mental."
Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes, feeling just as tired as he looked. "I would like to get back to Hogwarts. Do you know how to get there?"
The Ent thing, whatever it was, said, "I don't know where Hogwarts is. Isengard is not too far from here, Master Harry. And as for riddles go, I do not know what 'bloody metal' means - sounds like Orc mischief to me."
"Isengard? Never heard of it," Harry scowled, ignoring the last bit that the creature said. "And what exactly is an Ent? You said you were one, but I've never heard of them before. What do you do? Or… er."
"Ent's are more like Elves - less interested in themselves than Men are, and better at getting inside other things. And yet again Ent's are more like Men, more changeable than Elves are, and quicker at taking the color of the outside, you might say. Or better than both: for they are steadier and keep their minds on things longer."
Harry felt himself slump against the thing that held onto him. He wasn't understanding anything. He felt despair fill his heart. He still couldn't see and he feared that it might be something permanent, and he had no idea where he was. And this thing was completely wrong about elves, he tried to joke half heartedly to himself.
"What are you going to do with me?" he asked again. "Kill me?"
"You are lucky that I spoke to you," the thing said before continuing, "or I would have stepped on you."
"Stepped on me?" he asked ludicrously. He imagined the thing to be large - it had to be some kind of dark creature. Shuddering, he rubbed at his eyes. "What am I going to do? I want to get back to Hogwarts…"
"I have no idea how you can get to this Hogwarts," the Ent said. "But you can stay with me until you figure something out. I doubt you could get far," it chided lightly, "because I can tell by your eyes that you are newly blind.. Although there is something else there… the red in them shows something else."
The cold fear that had been residing inside of Harry suddenly gripped onto his heart tightly. He was blind. The creature could tell. Was it jus a trick, though; Something temporary?
No… Harry knew, deep down inside, that he was now blind. He was blind…
A/N: So what did you guys think? Good or bad? Should I or should I not continue it? Hm?