Dead Man Walking (HP/LOTR>Adventure/Fantasy)

Author's Note: Like I said in the fiction discussion thread, this is the story that I meant to do for a new take on my carry on story long ago. Although I altered much of the mystery and plot, the idea/theme of reincarnations and the infusion of two worlds remain the same. (That's for those of you who have read and/or worked with me before on the harry potter carry on's.) Below, is only part of the first chapter and is a bit rough. I may, later, go back and make a few tiny changes. But, being the impatient and hyped person that I am, I couldn't wait to show this off to everyone who reads my work! Enjoy and please pm/post me a nice review. ^.^

Title: Dead Man Walking

Author: Battosai Yuriko

Category: Book Crossovers > Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings

Genre: Mystery/Action/Adventure/Fantasy

Rated: G to PG-13

Spoiler: Year 6

Synopsis: After ending a dramatic fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry begins to have these strange “visions” in his dreams. He has not a clue as to what these dreams could mean. Only that somehow, they feel so…familiar?

Completeness: Chapter One with more on the way.

Disclaimer: I don’t own a single thing that J.R.R. Tolkien and J.K. Rowling created within their stories.

Dead Man Walking

Chapter One: (title to be announced)

With eyes closed, he could hear the sounds of pain, sobs of sorrow, and anger echoing about in his ears that he would never forget. The rise and fall of his chest was moving with slight difficulty for his body was growing weary from battling nearly endless battalions of oncoming, rampaging orcs from Isenguard. The sound of crunching leaves on the forest floor and the scrapping of a grip shifting upon a sword’s handle, alerted his wondering mind that he must not linger further or it could mean his death. He quickly reached up and grabbed the cold, black iron shield that was pinning him to the trunk of a tree by the neck. Carefully shifting his position and weight, he jerked his head downwards to free it, but he only ended up slamming his chin onto the edge of the gap. The tiny surge of pain caused his eyes to snap open to reveal a huge, rusty colored Urak Kai leader coming in for the kill, slowly raising its bizarre shaped sword. His eyes widened and heart raced, as the blade was brought forth to his neck.

Just in a mere few seconds before contact, he shifted again and managed to slip his head below the shield, free of harm’s way. He sighed in deep relief as the sound of metal against wood was heard above his head. Without a moment to lose, with the orc still going in follow through, he reached towards his side and unsheathed his mighty sword as he moved towards the orc with great speed. The gleaming blade immediately penetrated dark flesh upon the Urak Hai’s bare stomach. Instead of hearing a satisfying cry of pain, there came a roar of anger as the creature turned its attention and kicked the ranger in the side to get him off. Gripping his weapon tightly as he was rolling off to the side, he soon countered that by flipping up onto his feet. Once again, his opponent came charging forth and this time the ranger was ready for him.

The forest was soon filled with sounds of metal clashing, cries of anger, and the rustling of leaves as the two traded off advances and sending one another to the ground. At one point, the Urak Kai managed to trip him, but the ranger quickly regained balance and brought out his dagger to meet the orc’s right leg. With the creature’s attention shifted to its wound, he lifted his sword and brought it down like an axe to sever the arm holding the sword. Bringing his ranger blade back up and a few inches to the right, plunged the tip deeply into the Urak Hai’s belly. Getting the thing’s attention, it reached out with lightning speed to grab and plunge the weapon even deeper. Although this cost the orc more pain, it brought the ranger closer in range enough for it to attack psychically. But before the creature could do any damage and with his grip weak, the mortal was able to slid it back out of reach. Tables were turned as the ranger swung his sword to take his turn in decapitating his foe as the final blow.

The thick, oily blood of the proud Urak Hai leader shown brightly upon the blade of the ranger as he completed the follow through of the blow. Also, moving his gaze along with the hurtling creature’s head before it hit the ground with some interest and disgust. He remained still like this until he heard the rough, disappointed grunt of a familiar dwarf coming not far from behind him. The sound quickly shattered his unseeing state and forcing life back into his cloudy, green-grey eyes of their battle spirit. With reality rapidly crashing down on him, the ranger’s heart was filled with grief and sorrow as the memories of a dying friend came back to mind. “Boromir…,” he whispered under his breath as he turned to make a mad dash in the direction of his companion.

The colors of the lush forest began to blur as tears began to sting his eyes…and the sound of pounding feet and knocking on wood could be heard?! Bolting upright in bed, a sleepy teenager with dark brown messy hair named Harry Potter, got his own reality wake up call. Rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, he slowly took in his surroundings of old springy beds and dusty antique lamps about the cramped bedroom. Feeling a sudden wave of nausea coming on, Harry laid back down to wait for his mind to clear. He stared up at the chipped ceiling, since it seemed like the only thing in the room that wasn’t ‘moving.’

As the waves of dizziness calmed to ripples in the young sorcerer’s mind, so did the abnormally bright shade of green of his eyes. He blinked a couple of times, and they were soon back to their normal dark emerald. Suddenly, the knocking from earlier became louder and Harry realized that someone had been there doing so since he woke. “Harry, dear?” came the sweet, high voice of Mrs. Weasley from the other side. “Are you awake and dressed yet?” “Uhm…no, Ma’am…” said the latter in a hoarse voice, laced with sleep that was vanishing rapidly. He yawned and stretched a bit before reaching over to the night stand for his glasses. “Well, you better hurry up before the twins decide to start eating your breakfast without you, Harry dear!” yelled Mrs. Weasley over her shoulder as her footsteps faded towards the stairs down the hallway.

‘Those two must have bottomless stomachs,’ thought Harry as he shook his head and crawled out of bed. He hissed softly as feet touched cold floor from the morning’s freeze. This is what he hated about waking up in the morning and having a habit of wearing no socks to bed or around the house. Harry made his way over to the end of his bed to go rifling through his trunk for clean clothes. Spending a couple of minutes with no success of finding clean laundry, he got lazy and just grabbed his crimson and gold Quidditch uniform cloak and slipped it on over his pajamas.

Making his way down the hall to the stairs, Harry could feel the small grooves in the old wooden floor from years of use.

~to be continued~

(.....then? 😄 harry's having dreams of being kinda like being like aragorn right......with the fighting the orcs......)

Originally posted by airangel429
(.....then? 😄 harry's having dreams of being kinda like being like aragorn right......with the fighting the orcs......)

Reply to Review:

have you ever read my carry on story, number 4? it was up in the hp forums along time ago, last year but i've stopped writing it. similar concepts with major plot alterations.

harry's having visions of seeing life through aragorn's eyes. from aragorn's view and the way he thinks and moves. harry is going to be having more dreams about aragorn and won't find out their true meanings until later. i don't know how much later yet.

i've been wanting to update, but haven't been in the right mood and state of mind to get the proper update typed and loaded/posted yet. sorry for the wait!

later,

sodapop allerdyce

its okie..yeah i remember that carryon!

Originally posted by airangel429
its okie..yeah i remember that carryon!

Reply to Review:

Than you understand the connection between Harry and Aragorn, and why he has those particular dreams.

✅

Originally posted by airangel429
✅

Reply to Review:

As a reminder, none of the lotr characters are going to appear in the present day time like they did in the carry on story. There will be exceptions and slight twists later though. ^.^

later,

Sodapop Allerdyce

Making his way down the hall to the stairs, Harry could feel the small grooves in the old wooden floor from years of use. Somewhere in his mind, it told him that this texture reminded him of the old wooden platforms that snaked about the trees within' the Lothlorian forest. During the night when he couldn't sleep, he would take off his weather beaten boots and go wondering about the balconies that lay near the open air room. Suddenly bringing a stand still to these "memories," Harry wondered where did that come from. 'I don't...never have...owned any boots in my life...' he thought. Harry turned these ideas over in his mind as he descended the first flight of stairs. But the more he thought about it, the more confusion it caused him in finding it's source, it's cause.

As Harry zigzagged his way through the obstacle course of furniture through the living room, he tried to find a logical explanation for these strange dreams just before a headache began to form. Recalling all the dreams he had since the last couple of days of his fifth year and the start of summer vacation, they were all about the same person. Harry was never able to get a good look at this person, but he did know that this man was named Aragorn. Well...at least that was what people referred to him as in his dreams. Either that or Strider. From what Harry could tell, Aragorn was a tall, observative, intelligent and a courageous fighter. He was especially good with wielding a sword.

Whenever one of these dreams came on, Harry had no control whatsoever in what he did in his dreams except his own thoughts...and sometimes he heard Aragorn's...It was like he was in this man's mind and seeing, doing, and feeling what he did. Through the eye's of an experienced warrior, Harry could see wonderful landscapes of devine forests and fields. Plus, to know what it feels like to kill a living thing in battle and not take time to pity it. Somehow this was all possible...Somehow these dreams felt...

Various "Good Morning, Harry"'s and "Oiye, Harry!"'s came flooding through his ears, interrupting his train of thought. With the mist clearing from his mind and eyes, they soon regained focus on reality. Harry's vision was met with a group of familiar, freckled faces and red haired family that were the Weasleys. Suddenly, he was able feel his fingers rubbing his temples free of a minor headache, which he hadn't noticed until now. Curling his lips into a small smile, Harry said in his usual soft, shy morning voice, "Good Morning..." He walked over to the table to sit in his usual seat next to Ron and across from the twins, Fred and George. Mrs. Weasley was soon at his side, serving him some fresh pancakes, bacon, eggs and a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice. "Are you alright, Harry dear?" she asked kindly, her tone of a concerned mother.

"Huh?" came the muffled reply of the latter with a chunk of toast in his mouth. Looking up to clarify the question asked of him, Harry said in return, "I'm fine." It was a flat and vague answer, but Mrs. Weasley accepted it anyways. She didn't feel like pushing the matter. For all she knew, Harry was probably still depressed over his late godfather, Sirius Black. Ending the conversation, Mrs. Weasley made her way around to the Twin's side of the table to give them second helpings to breakfast. Harry slowly picked up his fork and began to chow down on his pancakes. He was used to that question by now, but never really wanted to give a lengthy answer to whoever asked. Everyone believed it was Sirius on his mind, but that wasn't always true. Not these days.

A few moments later, after everyone had finished eating, Mrs. Weasley announced that she would be taking everyone to Diagon Alley today to go shopping for supplies for the coming school year in a few days. Rushing back upstairs, all the teenagers quickly got dressed in some normal muggle street clothes with their black school cloaks over them. About fifteen minutes later, they all piled out of the cramped station wagon and made their way through the Leaky Cauldron. Gathered out back standing in front of the brick wall, Mrs. Weasley took out her wand and tapped certain bricks in a specific pattern to make them shift and allow the group passage. Once the bricks shifted into an arched doorway to reveal the alley beyond, their gazes were met with crowds of wizards shrouded in dark colored cloaks that were protecting them from the rain.

Looking up to the cloudy sky above, Mrs. Weasley mumbled softly out of wonder, "What strange weather we're having..." Then to herself, 'I have never known it to rain here...' With her wand still in hand, she quickly swished and flicked it to conquer up six rain proof cloaks with hoods. Before allowing any of her charges to enter, Mrs. Weasley handed each of them a cloak and some money before running off. Fred and George raced off down the alley to get to the other end where the joke shop was. Ginny immediately ran into a bunch of her fellow fifth year girlfriends to go check out the clothing and shoe stores. Leaving Ron and Harry to make their way over to the Magical Mangerie to rendevous with Hermione.

Upon arrival just outside the pet shop, Hermione came out with a smile for them and hands busy holding bags of school and cat supplies for her cat, Crookshanks. Putting her burdens down on the ground, she came over and gave then each a warm welcome and hug. Hermione took a quick peek at her silver watch that her parents had gotten her for her sweet sixteenth birthday. Looking back up at the boys, she said, "As much as I love seeing you guys again, I'm sorry that I can't stay long this time. I need to get back to the Leaky Cauldron shortly after lunch time. So we'll have to rush for now, is that okay? Let's go!" And with that, Hermione quickly lead the way over to Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occassins shop, back the way that the boys had come. They went here first because she had insisted upon getting them all new robes since their old ones had been battered from their last adventure. Over the next couple of hours, Hermione dragged her friends almost all over Diagon Alley. They went to the stationary store, Fine Quidditch Supplies, a couple of book stores, and then went to the ice cream shop for a much needed lunch break.

Afterwards, Ron requested to go to the joke shop to see what the Twins were up to now. When the trio did get there, to Harry and Hermione's relief, they didn't see any of the new incoming first and second years' faces twisted in illness that were gathered around Fred and George in front of the shop. While Ron went to go look in the shop and chat with his brothers, Harry and Hermione stood nearby the crowd, not interested in what the shop had to offer. Soon, Harry's attention began to wander to gaze about at the dark clad figures going by them. He found it a little unnerving to see absolutely everyone in such dark cloaks. They reminded him of Death Eaters and Dementors, of whom he didn't have fond memories of.

Hermione shifted her weight over to her other leg in slight boredom, then checked her watch again. "Oh shoots! It's almost 1 o'clock!" she said anxiously. Hearing the alarm in her voice, Harry turned his gaze to her just as Ron was coming back over to them. "You need to get back already?" asked Harry. She nodded, "Do you guys want to come with me?" "Sure, no problem, Herm," answered Ron. "Harry?" The latter checked his own watch and shook his head at them. "No. Sorry, Hermione. Since we ourselves have to get going in an hour or so, I must get to Ollivander's right now. See you in a couple of days, Hermione." The two quickly traded hugs before she and Ron made their way about the crowd and down the alley to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry turned on his heal and walked past a few shops over to Ollivander's wand shop.

Inside Ollivander's, the shop was narrow and filled with shelves that held thousands of little narrow boxes of wands. The room was dimly lite by the incoming sunlight and oil burning lamps. There was an arm chair near the window and a front desk some odd feet away. Harry walked straight up to the counter and tapped the little service bell. The little ting of the bell was soon followed by the squealing sound of wheels sliding across a rail. Soon, the form of Mr. Ollivander appeared, perched high on that book case latter. The old man's face twisted into a smile as his misty eyes came to rest upon Harry's. "Ahhh...Mister Harry Potter has returned! Long time no see, young sir. What brings you here this time?"

"Er...Hello, Mr. Ollivander. I'm here to get my wand fixed...or replaced...," said Harry in a slow reply. Reaching into his cloak's inner chest pocket, he pulled out his battered wand and handing it over to the curious shop owner. Harry quickly supplied that he had busted it during a Defense Against The Dark Arts class fifth year. He lied by saying that a new spell that the class had been practicing had gone awry when two people had fired the same spell that collided into both wands. Breaking or disabling their magical use somehow. Ollivander just raised a silver brow at this and said nothing in return as he continued to scrutinize Harry's wand. With a few quick mutters to himself, the old man soon looked up at Harry and said, "In conclusion, your wand can't be fixed, Mr. Potter. I'll have to hand you some wands to test you again. There are some new brands that came in earlier, I'll go to the back and get them for you. Wait here."

Shortly after Ollivander left the front desk, the sound of creaking hinges on the front door announced the entrance of another customer. The little hair's on the back of Harry's neck suddenly raised and that feeling made him not want to turn around to see who the newcomer was. He could hear the soft clonking of boots tapping the floor as the person drew nearer. Harry could now see a tall figure (not much taller than him) standing next to him clad in a black cloak with the hood remaining up within his perepheral vision. Judging by the built, it was a man. The hood moved slowly from side to side as the mysterious man studied the appearance of the wand shop. Soon the gaze fell upon the bell and a black leather gloved hand tapped it a couple of times. The call brought the shop owner rushing back.

With his arms full of narrow boxes, Ollivander carefully placed them on the counter before Harry and then scooted over to the new customer in waiting. Harry quickly chose a wand and began testing it in the direction of a nearby empty book shelf. Once the wooden shelves of the object snapped off and fell to the floor, he placed the wand back to grab another. Just as Harry was doing so, he noticed the hooded figure's head ever so slightly turned in his direction and then back to the old man at the counter. Ollivander struck up his cheery smile again and said, "Welcome to Ollivander's Fine Wands shop! I don't believe I have seen you here before, young man. How may I help you?"

'Young man?!' thought Harry in surprise as he got out a third new wand to swish and flick away at a corner of empty boxes. To prove that he wasn't hearing things, the young man under the dark cloak began to speak. "Hello, Mr. Ollivander. You are right, we have never met. I'm sort of new to this area," he said. His voice sounded young and calm, but wise in some way. "I have a favor to ask of you..." he said as one hand shifted the cloak on his right side away to reveal a dark brown leather belt. There were some loops on the belt, one was occupied by a foot to a foot and half long white wand of some sort. This didn't look like any wand that Harry had ever seen for it was thicker in mass around and one end didn't narrow down to a stubbed point.

The mysterious youth held up the wand near his chest, but not outstretched to the store clerk. Harry watched intently now, as a gloved thumb slowly stroked over a string of engraved golden symbols upon the upper end of the wand. Since the little store had gone utterly silent, the wizards could hear the young man softly inhale and chant, "Bragol alaa, Ita'istar." The enchantment caused the symbols to glow softly as the image of the white wand began to shimmer like a mirage in a desert. One end began to grow downwards, so the youth moved it a few inches away from his body. While that end made it's journey to the ground, the other increased a bit before sprouting into an intricitly weaved carving with a strange jewel trapped within' it. Once that jewel had manifested into the carving, the tall, narrow, ivory white wizard's staff had ceased its soft glow and shimmering dulled until the ray's of torch light were able to reflect off of it.

Harry and the elderly shop keeper gazed at this in an amazed stupor. The stranger shifted his grasp upon the staff and placed the end tip upon the wooden floor of the wand shop. From the way he held it, it was as if it were a walking stick. "I ask of you to find a wand that matches the material of this staff," said the soft spoken voice of the youth. He carefully lifted the wand and placed it upon the front counter. With his hand still upon it and slowly observing the shop once again, "If such a thing were to exist...in this time and day..." Suddenly snapping out of his stupor, Mr. Ollivander nodded his head briskly and placed his own wrinkled hand upon the mysterious staff.

"I'll get on it, young sir!" said Mr. Ollivander. The hood gave a curt nod of recognition and released his grip. Ollivander scooped up the staff with both hands balancing it near the ends and turned to make his way towards the opposite end of his shop. Although the old shop keeper had many burning questions to ask the young sorcerer, after witnessing such a sight as he did, Ollivander was so anxious to examine the staff that his bewilderment didn't seem important.

This is a really good story! You said the characters from LOTR wouldn't appear, but is that Gandalf?

Originally posted by Trickster
This is a really good story! You said the characters from LOTR wouldn't appear, but is that Gandalf?

Reply to Review

Thanks for the compliment, Trickster! 😄

Let's just say that MOST of the characters from LOTR won't appear in this story anytime soon. Only in memories, flashbacks, and dreams, by far.

The character in question is not a reincarnation of any of the LOTR characters. Plus, I mention that he's a young man, so he can't be Gandalf. The mysterious youth in the wand shop is an original character of mine that I was originally saving up for a special LOTR story and many other stories. Since I was so fascinated and excited about my creation, that I couldn't wait any longer to get him into action within' my stories, so I decided to feature him here first. I know that this story won't get much into his background, but that'll be saved for another story. This young man will be an important character later on in the story. Plus, you'll later find out why he has that particular wizard's staff and more. In other words, keep a close watch on him and the other original character that I'll introduce within' this chapter!

Later,

Sodapop Allerdyce

Soon the little shop had gone quite once more, with only the faint sounds of breathing and the patter of rain upon the roof. Harry's hands slowly made their way back to sorting through the pile of wands. He felt like he needed to occupy himself so that he wouldn't have to fill in the silance. His mind was not quite ready to let him voice any curiosity he had towards this stranger. Harry felt like he needed to observe this person more than to question. But, that need soon faded away after a few moments of utter silance between the two and some odd defect wands later. Placing the wand back down and finally turning his attention to the hooded figure, Harry asked shyly, "Uh...Excuse me, sir...Who are you?"

Upon being addressed, the mysterious youth straightened his posture and slowly turned to face the young sorcerer and to lean against the counter. For the first time and at a new angle, Harry could now see that he had deep blue eyes. The eyes were all he could see amongst the shadows that shrouded the youth's face in darkness underneath the dark hood. "All I am is but a wanderer seeking knowledge of this changing land. To see what this place has to offer and teach me that of what other places could not. Am I right in assuming that there is a place of learning here?" asked the stranger in his usual calm voice.

Harry didn't answer him right away for he was taking the time to absorb this information and sort it. The answer to his question was vague...or more like it was incryptive...but either way, it didn't exactly answer the question asked.

Harry didn't answer him right away for he was taking the time to absorb this information and sort it. The answer to his question was vague...or more like it was incryptive...but either way, it didn't exactly answer the question asked. "Er...there isn't a school here...but there is one not far from King Cross Station called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm a sixth year there," answered Harry. Then in a curious, slightly suspicious tone, "Why you ask?"

There was a short pause and then the youth spoke in a reflective tone, "Ah...Hogwarts. Now that name does ring a bell... Before I moved here, I had the option of going to any wizarding school within' Europe. I thought I'd check this place out before I headed on over to Germany and France. Besides, at least the people here speak english!" The stranger grinned warmly underneath his hood, but Harry didn't notice.

A "wow" expression spread across Harry's face. "That's cool. So...does that make you an American?" he asked. He has never met an American before nor one that was a wizard at the same time.

"More or less," replied the latter, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head in a "so-so" motion.

"Huh...," whispered Harry as he relaxed his shoulders from the brief excitement. Than taking a few seconds to think and then out loud, "Well...If you plan to enroll at Hogwarts, you better do it soon. Term starts in a couple of days."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," said the youth. He paused in mid-thought as he observed Harry's appearance, measuring him up. The deep blue eyes came to rest upon a certain feature that stood out amongst everything upon the boy's face. An oddly shapped scar almost hidden by those unruly brown bangs.

Harry immediately realized what the stranger was staring at. He half prayed, half hoped, that this guy wouldn't make a scene about his lightning shaped scar like everyone else did. Too many people would get excited or praise the sight of the famous Harry Potter. He found it quite annoying and extremely embarrassing if the wizard bowed or asked for a group picture...or something like that...

The mysterious youth titled his head to the side slightly and lifted a hand to point in the general direction of the scar. "How did you get that scar?" he asked, with a faint tone of awe.

'Wow, didn't see that one coming!' thought Harry sarcastically and mentally rolled his eyes. "...It's a long story...I'd rather not say." To emphasize that command, he waved a hand in the air to dismiss further questions on the matter.

'Wow, didn't see that one coming!' thought Harry sarcastically and mentally rolled his eyes. "...It's a long story...I'd rather not say." To emphasize that command, he waved a hand in the air to dismiss further questions on the matter. For a fraction of a second there, Harry got the notion like he was advising a guard or counselor to stand down.

"Oh, I see...," said the youth in a soft spoken, gentler, sympathetic tone. "Well...please forgive me for intruding." The hood bowed his head, weighing in the possible tragic scenarios in his mind. From the way the boy expressed his answer, the body language and quick denial, made it plainly obvious that the story behind the scar was painful and personal.

The sudden sound of worn out leather shoes scuffling towards them, prevented any more questions that the youth may have had for Harry. Cerulean orbs flickered over to the elderly shop keeper, eyeing the staff and the dark narrow box in hand. Mr. Ollivander straightened his posture and put on his signature warm smile as he took up his place behind the counter, once again. "Hullo, again! Sorry that I took so long. Finding a wand crafted out of material as rare as yor staff here, is a hard find, young sir." He lifted and placed the staff upon the desk, then presented the little box to the mysterious youth before him.

The latter stared at the box for a bit, then reached out with a gloved hand and took the offering. With the other hand, he pulled away part of the ashen hued cloak and neatly deposited the box into the nearest chest pocket.