Chapter One

Harry Potter sat at the rickety desk in the dingy room he called a bedroom when at his relative's house for the summer. He propped his head up with a scrawny arm as he stared out the dirty window. It was almost midnight. Oh joy, another year. He had just over a month until he went back to school, and he really wasn't all that enthused by the thought at this point in time. The only plus was that he could now use magic outside of school legally. He couldn't stop thinking about the way his friends seemed to have drifted away over the last year.

His sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had been pretty much uneventful. He had spent the year mourning the loss of his godfather, Sirius Black. He had kept his head down and his grades up, and gave Hermione a run for her money. He had quit the quidditch team, despite Ron's protests, and spent all of his free time in the library. He didn't want to be around a lot of people, and his friends seemed fine with that as well. In the beginning, they would follow him to the library and try to get him involved in conversation about school work or other things, but after the first few weeks of no responses, they gave up. Harry watched as his two best friends seemed to become closer to each other and further away from him. It didn't bother him as much as he thought it probably should. After all, they were his only close friends. Granted, there was Neville, Luna, and Ginny, but they really were more of close acquaintances than real friends. And really, Ginny and her staring was quite uncomfortable. Neville wasn't really that bad to be around, but his very slight hero-worship made Harry want to just hide even more. As for Luna, her strange way of perceiving the world was entertaining at times, but Harry would rather she just admit to being a seer and stop with the made up creatures.

He hadn't had anymore visions or nightmares from Voldemort, and he found that a bit odd. There hadn't been any raids against the magical or muggle worlds since the debacle at the Department of Mysteries. Instead of worrying about why he was being left alone, Harry was grateful. Even Professor Snape had left off with the insults and unnecessary detentions. All in all, sixth year had been what Harry would consider normal, if not a bit boring.

Now, it was July 31st, his birthday. He would be seventeen in less than ten minutes, and honestly, he couldn't care less. He knew there would be no presents, no notes, and no cake this year. He hadn't heard from anyone at all since he had left the wizarding world for his relative's house. The train ride had been uneventful. Even Malfoy hadn't made a point to stop by, which didn't surprise Harry either. The Slytherin Prince had given up on his hateful attitude last year when Harry hadn't responded and simply walked away every time Malfoy had tried to start something. Harry couldn't help but think that it was something he should have done since first year. Maybe he should have just accepted Draco's hand in friendship. Maybe then his first five years of school wouldn't have been as stressful. Of course, he'd still have had to deal with the yearly adventures, but at least then his only nemesis would have been Voldemort. He sighed at how many mistakes he'd made since first entering the wizarding world.

Harry had no idea why he was waiting until midnight, except it had become a tradition. He was hoping that his seventh year would be as uneventful as sixth had been. He just wanted to complete his education and live his life in peace. When the somewhat mangled clock on his bedside table changed to midnight, Harry looked back out the window with a deep sigh. His eyes widened in surprise.

A figure was rapidly approaching his window. He stood up so fast his chair tumbled over behind him. He didn't care if it woke up his elephant of an uncle because he was now of age. He could defend himself with magic. He had been positive there would be no presents, but that was definitely an owl hurtling straight towards his window. Harry rushed forward to push the dirty glass open so the animal wouldn't crash into it. He then backed up to give it room as it came barreling through to land gracefully upon his bed.

"Hoot!"

For a moment, Harry just stood there staring at the large owl. He had never seen it before. It definitely wasn't from anyone he knew well. The bird was quite large with silky black feathers and sapphire colored eyes. Shaking his head he approached the bird cautiously. Slowly reaching out a hand to remove the letter attached to its leg, Harry never let his gaze wander from those intense blue eyes of the most beautiful owl he had ever seen, other than his Hedwig of course. The owl stretched out its leg and let Harry untie the letter, and then it flew out of the window without as much as a sound.

Harry studied the parchment in his hand. It was rolled up like a scroll and tied with a purple ribbon. There were no markings on the outside giving any inclination as to who could have sent it. Harry, always being overly curious, untied the ribbon and opened the scroll. His eyes scanned the deep purple calligraphy as he took in the beautiful writing.

My Lord,

I do hope that this missive reaches you in good health. I was requested to send this by a very close ally, and dare I say friend? Happy Birthday, My Lord. May all of your wishes come true.

Your Servant,

T.

Utu- i' truth ar' complete i' prophecy, lle must relinquish lle future ar' entula a' i' past.

Arda, vilya, naur, ar' ear

amin yela deno' thee

sana amin a' i' past

manke amin Lotesse istima fast

skippien tuulo' i' yeste' teachers a' i' tella

Harry read the letter in confusion. Why would someone call him "My Lord"? And what did that last section mean? He'd never seen a language quite like it. Harry re-read the last section to himself out loud, somewhat stumbling over the lilting phrases. He gasped as the temperature in the room suddenly dropped to a near freezing level. His eyes grew wide as a thin smoky substance began to coalesce around him. What the hell was going on? Then, all Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Light's Savior, and apparently Fate's bitch saw nothing but blackness as his skinny frame slid off the edge of the frail bed he'd been sitting on.

A/N: Elvish Translation in letter:

To find the truth and complete the prophecy, you must relinquish your future and return to the past.

Earth, Air, Fire, and Sea

I call upon thee

Take me to the Past

Where I may learn fast

Skipping from the first teachers to the last.