Prologue—

Five years and he was already dead.

Well, maybe that wasn't the right wording. He was finally, dead, finally. That was what he had longed for, was it not? Though the thoughts might sound slightly morbid for one young as he.

But it was a relief. After all, such a short life he'd lived, and it was filled with pain, and suffering—it had not been as pleasant as it could have been. True, while other five-year-olds most likely would not know even the concept of death, this particular five-year-old had found himself wishing for it, time and time again. Now, it's finally come, and he could almost grasp at the very edge of the emotion known as content.

You see, this child wasn't like other five-year-olds. In fact, there was a very long list of differences, but one of the main reason had to do with who, exactly, he was.

He was Harry Potter.

He was a wizard, a magical being.

He was an orphan.

He was abused, and beaten, and neglected, and starved, and raped by his only living relatives.

He was living with them for his so-called safety—a concept as unfamiliar to him as was love and comfort.

He was the subject of a prophecy. A prophecy now void, because...

He was dead.

He was five-years-old.

And he was now to be judged. By us, the Valar.

There was only one problem...

We can't.

We cannot judge him.

Chapter One—

They told the child many things, but it was clear he was still unknowing. Confused, confused and scared—he was terrified. It hurt them, almost physically, to see one so wary, and of them. It wasn't supposed to be like this; he wasn't even suppose to be here yet. Now, however...

"How are you feeling?" They asked him.

"Not cold no more..." He whispered in reply, then hugged himself and scooted further back into his hiding spot, away from them, as if he was utterly freezing. They eventually decided to leave him alone for the time being. He only sat there, arms around himself, and looking around every now and then as if he was searching for something, tearfully.

"His friend," one of them remembered. "Remember my family, that squirrel? It sat upon his shoulder and brought small comfort to his wary soul."

"He needs it," they murmured. "He needs it, bring it to us!" They cried.

And so they did, and the child appeared much more comfortable as he curled up, tracing the delicate snout of his only friend with his tiny fingers. The small, hazelnut furred animal sat unbelievably still, as if it was convinced it would hurt the child if it were to move even a muscle, silly a notion it was. They could almost see it happening.

"We need to judge him..." One mumbled dejectedly. "He cannot stay here in this place forevermore."

"I do not wish to judge one so young, an innocent," another cried, "so pure, yet his soul be tainted by the evils of the monsters he was subjected to.

"He has nothing for us to judge," yet another agreed.

And so they stayed, just watching the child and his familiar friend. Neither groups ate nor slept, for they had no need of it. Still others passed through the realm, and the Valar judged them accordingly, and the child yet stilled, speaking not, almost hiding. Eventually, they could take it no longer.

"He needs love, for he has experienced none."

"Why not give him anew chance at finding that which he has been denied?" One suggested. "We know of, yet still, our friends across the waters, whom would no doubt cherish one so young in their numbers."

They paused, and thought the idea over. The child watched them, almost curiously, from his spot—as if he wanted to know but feared to ask. Soon, they gave their thoughts.

"I agree." One murmured. "As it is, we have neglected to gift our long-living acquaintances with a youngling for many centuries."

Another sighed. "I as well. There the child would be treasured and loved."

"A far cry from what he has seen thus far, I concur."

"Then it is agreed." Yet another decided. "Come, let us announce to him our decision." And they did.

So they child departed once more, and the Valar each stood with one another on the white sands of a paradise's shore, gazing out over the vast, crystal sea of sparkling blue. "Take care of him." They murmured to those that resided across it. "Take care of him, Eldar."

Okay... Um... I'm s-sorry? *hides under bed* Please don't kill me! I couldn't help it! I'm sooorrryyyyy! T^T

Please R&R ^ ^ Have a nice day!

~Scylar X.