Summary: Long lost shall the history of the elves of Middle-Earth remain, yet as time passes, remnants return, piece by piece. King Lithinduiel, son of Legolas and Valariella, his brother and chief councillor, Battresinduil, their younger sister, Vivrendella, their friend Huor Séregon, and the remnants of the elven kingdom of Greenwood struggle to coup with the growing change to their world. Dagor Dagorath has passed and the dead have been revived in Valinor, yet these folk who dared not leave find that the bonds that left them hidden from man are breaking. Soon, as they had been discovered by an old Hogwarts headmaster in the 11th Century, they send a representative who held a power similar to his own, learning how to use it properly to defend his people. Huor now stands amidst the broken walls and shattered past of his people and must defend a poor boy from a miserable fate given to him that he doesn't understand.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Lithinduiel, Battresinduil, Vivrendella, and the other elves that might appear in this story. Anything Lord of the Ring related belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and anything Harry Potter related belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: So, yeah. First ever crossover. Wish me luck!

Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillanus.

"'Never tickle a sleeping dragon.'" Huor sighed, shaking his head. His silvery blond hair shone in the moonlight as he gazed up at the dark castle in the distance. "I never understood why they called it that." Battresinduil chuckled, tucking a loose strand of dirty blond hair behind his pointed ear. "Hey, at least it's better than, say, 'Amans, quod non est in cubili non omnino amator' *." His friend turned his gaze to him, blinking in disbelief. "Really," he asked. "Must your mind sink so low in the gutter?" The other elf just laughed, his boisterous voice echoing in the darkness of the night.

A slight breeze blew in the air, both elves' hair flowing in the air as if by magic. The night stars twinkled in the sky, the moon shining brightly as it did before the elves left for Valinor. Valinor, Huor thought, his eyes turning downwards in a sad shine of greyish blue. King Lithinduiel, son of Prince Legolas of Greenwood and of Lady Valariella of Rivendell abide by his mother's wish to keep the land safe and sound as she sailed to her husband in the Undying Lands. She said that he was needed here, to stay for as long as he deemed necessary to watch over man and keep them safe. Huor stayed because this young prince needed him. He needed a friend from the old days to watch over him, to help him in his choices. Then, as he grew older, young Battresinduil was the one to do just that. Vivrendella was still young but had slowly matured as her brothers needed her to. However, Huor still stuck around, even when the king bid that he could leave. 'I will go when you go, young Lithin,' he had said. 'Not before.'

Now, as his greyish blue eyes turned to the castle on the cliff, Huor found himself holding to his promise by a thread. Glancing down to the sword under his black cloak, he smiled. Ohtar Alqua had been with him since he was elfling. Roughly translated into common, it meant "Warrior Swan". He remembered a time when he named it after the beautiful Lady Galadriel's swan boat. In honor of her, he kept the sword as a reminder of a past long forgotten. The elves within this Forbidden Forest were old. None wanted to forget what had once been and none wanted to leave. They were loyal to the young king and they encouraged him in his duty. But slowly, ever so slowly, they were growing restless. Why must they continue this journey and deny the need to return to the Undying Lands?

Huor shook his head. Battresinduil turned his gaze from the castle to him. "Are you well?" The silver haired elf gave the other a smile. "I am. I just worry," he replied. "Do not fear, little Battre." Battre frowned. "I'm not little anymore. Why do you insist on calling me so?" Huor gave a laugh. "Well, compared to me and many of the others, you are little." Battresinduil huffed, rolling his eyes. Returning his eyes to the sight of the castle, Huor spoke softly to his companion. "Another year at this school. I wonder how it will turn out."

The dirty blond haired elf looked to him. "Are the rumors true then? About the boy with the lightning scar? Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter?" Huor shrugged. "In truth, young Battre, I do not know. How old was he when the Potters last visited? Three months? I find that time passes so quickly, I cannot remember." Once again, the younger elf rolled his eyes. "In any case, if he does come this year, will you hold to Dumbledore's word and protect him? I do not know for certain, you know them better than I." "I will do my best. But this boy, I do not know what to expect."

Battresinduil gave a bark of laughter. "Well, if he's anything like his father was, he's sure to be trouble!" Huor chuckled. "I honestly hope he's more like his mother, all kind hearted was she. They say that he has his mother's eyes." "As is a common trait among human children," Battre replied, pointing to his own greenish blue eyes. "And elven children as well." "Indeed," Huor replied with a grin.

"That being said," he spoke, standing from his spot amongst the bushes, "I find it is time for me to take my leave. 'Tis a long walk to the castle." Battresinduil stood, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You will visit, will you not?" Huor smiled at the youth. "Always," he replied, placing his own hand on the other's shoulder. With that said, Huor turned from the young prince, his black cloak falling off his shoulders and blowing out in the wind behind him. The circlet on his head was old, being worn once by Lord Elrond at his council concerning the Ring of Power. The ring he wore on his right thumb was silver with an emerald gemstone and the bracelet he wore on his left wrist held a charm shaped like the Lorien brooch. His gloves were white, surprisingly not dirty from the dirt he now walked on. His silver tie was tucked into the black vest he wore. In addition, a white dress shirt, black pants and silver heeled boots completed his attire.

Huor Séregon walked with a pride that rivaled that of many Slytherin students he had taught over the many decades, his steps leading in the direction of a rundown path that led to Hogwarts castle, a school for young wizards and witches to control their magic. Reaching into one of the pockets in his pants, Huor pulled out a wand made of oak and unicorn tail hair. The unyielding wand was a light brown, a silver leaf on the side and various smaller leaves circling the handle. At the bottom was a small green gem and a silver design similar to that of an elven sword. Raising the wand into the air with his left hand, he spoke softly the words 'Expecto Patronum'. Immediately, a large elk came from the tip, surrounded by light and galloped into the distance of the castle. The new year was about to begin.

*'Amans, quod non est in cubili non omnino amator' is a translation of 'A lover that is not in bed is no lover at all.' Ask Google Translate.