Harry Potter and the One Ring of Power

Harry Potter and the One Ring of Power

Chapter Eight---The Lady and the Mirror

by Technomad

After a while, the company went on, deeper into the woods. Night was falling and the elves began lighting silver lamps to illuminate the scene. They finally came to a clearing, and Harry could see the evening sky again; it was darkening rapidly and the stars were coming out. On the far side of the clearing, he could see mallorn trees, growing higher than he had ever seen trees grow before. "Welcome to Caras Galadon!" said Haldir. "We'll have to go around to the other side to get in, and it's not a short walk---the city is very large."

As they went around, Harry watched Hermione. She was beginning to look very shocky again, and he wished that Draco's wish for a mediwizard, or a Muggle MD or EMT, had been granted. Her eyes were unfocussed, and she stumbled along, hardly taking notice of their surroundings, but willing to go where she was told, leaning on Ron. For a second, Harry caught Ron's eye, and Ron shook his head, looking as worried as Harry felt.

Finally, they came to a great gate, which opened when Haldir knocked and spoke, but Harry couldn't see any sign of guards. Within the walls, they found more trees growing, and Harry could hear elven voices all around them, but he couldn't see anybody. After following an intricate, winding path, they came to a fountain. Behind it stood the biggest mallorn of them all; Harry thought it was about as big as the sequoias of his own world, and wondered what the elves would think of those---they seemed to like trees. There were three elves in armor sitting by a ladder that led up into the tree. They came to their feet as Harry and his friends approached. Haldir said: "We're here---this is where Celeborn and Galadriel live. I'll go up first, with you, Harry, and you, Draco; the rest can come as they please. It's a long climb."

After climbing for a long time, and passing many platforms, Harry finally came to a huge platform that supported a great hall; it would have been a respectable-sized building even by the standards of people that built on the ground. Draco let out a soundless whistle, and Harry could tell that he was quite impressed. Inside, the tree's trunk formed a huge pillar in the middle of an oval-shaped chamber. Celeborn and Galadriel sat there, side-by-side with the pillar at their backs, and many other elves stood around.

Harry was reminded strongly of a veela, looking at the Lady Galadriel. She was tall, with a carriage as straight as a guardsman's, and very beautiful. Her hair was deep yellow, and only something in her eyes betrayed that she had already lived for many centuries,unchanging and unaging. Her husband, Celeborn, was handsome enough to make Gilderoy Lockhart fall down in fits of foaming envy; his hair was silver but his face was as youthful as his wife's. Both of them were dressed in white from head to foot, and they stood to welcome their guests, which made Harry feel slightly nervous and tongue-tied.

An elf ran into the hall behind them, coming up to Haldir and speaking rapidly in a low voice. Haldir turned, and snapped something back. Draco turned to Harry. "That doesn't sound good, Potter---they're saying that Granger's had trouble getting up those ladders. I'm not too surprised." Harry felt slightly sick inside. The elves began to mutter among themselves, until the Lady Galadriel stopped them with a crisp command. She fixed her eyes on Haldir, who began to explain. His explanation obviously did not please the Lady, since her expression darkened, and she snapped something that sent several elves running out of the hall as though their trousers were on fire.

Draco grinned, obviously impressed. "Man, Potter, you miss a lot, not being able to speak the elvish languages!" He shook his head in respect. "When the Lady heard that Granger's been made to march that far into her realm wounded, and with her wound untended, she ripped a few strips off people, including our mate Haldir here. Those elves are going to raise her up into the tree on a stretcher, it sounds like."

Draco's low-voiced commentary had attracted the Lady's attention. She turned to Harry and Draco. "Welcome, Mr. Potter---I am informed that this is the correct form of address for you. Sit by my side as I greet your friends." The others were just then getting into the hall, with Hermione being carried on a stretcher. Hoping that the elves knew what to do about her wounds, Harry sat where he was bid, watching as his friends were greeted. She had kind words for everybody, praising Ron and Draco for their bravery in choosing to accompany Harry, welcoming Legolas and Aragorn as old friends, and expressing hopes that Gimli's presence meant better relations between dwarves and elves. At her praise of Gondor's long stand against the Shadow, Harry was slightly amused to see the stern warrior Boromir blushing like a schoolboy. Then she leaned over Hermione's stretcher.

Concern edged her voice as she turned to Harry. "This young woman---girl, really---shouldn't have been traveling in this condition. How long has it been since she was hurt?" Gentle as Hermione's own mother would have wished, she probed the place where Hermione had hit her head, and Hermione stirred and cried out, not fully conscious. Harry's eyes prickled with tears, and he saw that Ron was terribly worried. Even Draco was concerned, although nobody not familiar with him would have known it. The hardships and dangers they had shared had welded the four who had set out from Hogwarts into a team.

"Two days, more or less," said Aragorn, looking rather abashed. "Pardon, my Lady, but we were being pursued by orcs---and possibly something even worse." At this, Galadriel gave Aragorn a very sharp look.

"That brings us to the next question I have; and no, it is not 'what fumble-fingered butchers were tending this wound,' although that would be just. The reports from Rivendell said that there would be nine of you, but I only see eight. What happened to Gandalf the Grey?"

"He went down in Moria, my lady. In Khazad-dum, he fought with the shadow, and didn't escape." At these quiet words from Aragorn, a cry of grief and horror came from the watching elves. Galadriel's lovely blue eyes widened in shock, and Harry thought he saw tears start, before she mastered herself.

Celeborn spoke for the first time: "This is bad news; why weren't we informed at once?" He said something to Haldir that had Haldir wilting and Draco's eyes widening with admiration at his eloquence; Harry rather envied Draco his command of the elven languages, and would have traded Parseltongue for them in a second, at least until they got back to Hogwarts.

"We didn't tell Haldir at first," said Legolas. "At first we were too tired to talk, and later just being in Lorien was salve for our grief."

"Even so, our grief is very great," said Harry, rather surprising himself. "Gandalf guided us, and saved us in Moria."

At Celeborn's command, Aragorn told them the full tale of their journey, up to the fight with the Balrog. "It was an evil of the ancient world, such as I had never seen before---a shadow and flame at once, strong and terrible."

"It was a Balrog of Morgoth," put in Legolas. "Next to Sauron, it was one of the deadliest creatures in Middle-Earth."

"To us Dwarves, it was known as Durin's Bane---it drove us from Moria single-handed," murmured Gimli.

"We have long feared that something evil slept in Moria," said Celeborn. "Had I known you had awakened it, I would have forbidden you entry to Lorien. Gandalf must have been mad, to go into Moria. He threw away his life!"

"No, he did not," said Galadriel. "He never did anything rash or needless. In any case, it's not the dwarf's fault---and if we had long been exiled from Lorien, can you say you would not have wanted to see it again, even if dragons were living here?" Harry's heart warmed at her compassion for Gimli, who had looked for a second as though Celeborn had slapped him. Gloriously handsome as Celeborn was, with his silvery mane framing his ageless face, for a second he reminded Harry unpleasantly of Professor Snape at his least tolerable. Harry wondered if Professor Snape would have dared be so rude; it was, to say the least, an interesting question.

"We didn't have much choice, Lady Galadriel," said Ron. "The storms forbade us to cross the mountains, and the passes were watched. We needed speed, and we thought we could get through without stirring up trouble. As it turned out, we were wrong." He gave Celeborn a very hard look. "In any case, we were there and fought the Balrog---me, Harry, our friend Hermione, and Draco. Even though Hermione had already been hurt, we stood there with Gandalf, and threw every spell we knew at the creature." At Celeborn's wide-eyed expression, he went on, smiling grimly: "Yes, Harry, Draco, Hermione and I stood up to a Balrog. As it turned out, we weren't able to stop it or kill it, but it knew we were there." Could you have done as well? was the unspoken question Harry heard.

"Forgive my hasty words, Mr. Weasley---and Gimli," said Celeborn. "I hadn't realized how bad things were for you. In any case, thank you for reminding us of your friend's hurts. With your permission, we'll see about mending her injuries." He snapped commands, and several elves carried Hermione out. "We will do all we can for you---particularly for he who bears a terrible burden." He gave Harry a meaningful look.

Galadriel explained that she had called the White Council together, and had planned to have it led by Gandalf. She told them that things were balanced very finely, but that they still had hope while the company held true. She bent a piercing gaze on each of them in turn, and only Aragorn and Legolas were able to stand it for long. Draco paled, Ron blushed and shuffled his feet, and Harry felt as though she were looking into his mind.

"Tonight, you will stay here---and for as long as you need to, to rest from your travels." At that, elves led Harry and his friends from the presence of the Lady.

When they were alone, Harry turned to Ron and Draco. "Did you feel what I felt, when she looked at us, that last time?" He looked around uneasily. "I thought that she was looking into my mind. She's nicer than her husband, but I didn't like it."

Ron and Draco looked at Harry, their expressions of unease eerily similar. "You felt that way, too?" asked Ron. "I thought that she was asking me how I'd like to be back at Hogwarts---and on the Quidditch team, and a prefect." Draco nodded, but did not confide what the Lady had tempted him with.

Harry compared notes with the rest of the Company. The report was the same from everybody. Every member had felt as though he was being offered a chance to turn aside from their quest, and in so doing, get something wonderful that they wanted. To boot, they told Harry that they had felt that their choices would remain secret and known only to themselves. All reported that they had refused.

Harry didn't quite know what to make of it. He didn't think that the Lady had anything like the power to come through with what he thought she had offered. The vision of himself, safe back in Britain, living with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin on his holidays from Hogwarts, had been inordinately tempting, but he wasn't willing to pay the price of risking Voldemort obtaining the Ring to get it. "That's if she could even do it," he told himself, firmly banishing temptation.

* * * * * * * * * *

They stayed for some days in Lorien, resting from the rigors of the road. It was an incredibly peaceful, pleasant place; the weather itself seemed to be cooperating, with only a little rain to keep things dampened down. Legolas spent a lot of time with the other elves, not sleeping with the rest of the company. He took Gimli with him on his mysterious errands, and Harry wondered why.

As they rested up, the grief they felt for Gandalf became more pronounced. When they spoke, it was often to reminisce about the old wizard. They heard elves singing lamentations for his fall, and more than once, Harry caught Draco listening, tears running down his face as he lost himself in the beauty of the music. Draco wouldn't translate the songs, and neither would Legolas; they both said that for them, the loss was too recent.

After a couple of days, Hermione reappeared, looking as good as new, or even better. Harry stared and stared at her. The clothes she had worn were gone, and she was clothed very like one of the elvish warriors they had seen, in close-fitting trousers and boots, a mid-thigh-length tunic, and a grey cloak. Her eyes sparkled with amusement at the reaction she had caused. Harry spared a glance for his schoolmates. He was gratified to see that Ron was gaping at Hermione like a guppy-fish at feeding time, and even Draco had been startled out of his usual pose of aloof indifference.

"How do you like the new me?" she asked, turning around so they could see her from all angles. She smiled broadly, well pleased with her new look. Harry could see that it was quite a practical outfit for long trips through wilderness. "I'm feeling wonderful, too! These elves could teach Madam Pomfrey a few things, and I'm just sorry that she and they'll never get to meet and compare notes."

"Great to have you back, Granger," croaked Draco. She grinned at him, rather knowingly.

"Good to be back, I must say. By the way, Malfoy, did you know that you've caused a bit of a stir here?" Draco's eyes widened as she went on: "The elves are quite impressed with your command of their language. They all think you're some kind of distant kin of theirs. And who am I to say you aren't?" Behind Hermione, several elven women appeared. Harry thought they were young, but you couldn't tell with elves. They giggled, though, which he associated with girls of about his own age. They spoke in the elven language, and Draco's eyes widened. He replied in the same language.

"See you later, Potter. I've been invited to come and meet some of these ladies. Alone." Draco sauntered over to meet the elven women, who surrounded him and led him away. Hermione looked after him, worry in her eyes.

"I do hope he'll be all right. They did say they wanted to meet him. I'm sure they won't hurt him." A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes, and she began to giggle, before she cut it off, knowing that Harry and Ron disliked giggling. "He may be in for a few new experiences, though. Having long, long lifetimes means that elves sometimes get spectacularly bored, or so Aragorn says."

When Hermione had gone off to show off her new look to the rest of the company, Harry sat down, and Ron sat down beside him. Ron finally broke the silence. "That lucky, lucky, lucky bastard! That lucky, lucky, jammyÂ…Slytherin bastard! I could kick him!"

"No, Ron, you couldn't," said Harry quietly. At Ron's puzzled look, Harry condescended to explain. "Because you'd have to get in line behind me, and by the time I was done with him, kicking him would be redundant, believe me!" Harry shook his head. "What is it about Malfoy, anyway? The leather pants?"

"Search me, Potter. At least he isn't Gilderoy Lockhart." Ron thought for a minute. "I kind of think it's the attitude. The 'I-don't-care-what-you-think' air." He sighed. "Still and all, I'd give anything to be where he is now."

Harry jumped as a slender hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to find himself looking up into the face of yet another elven woman. She looked down at him, amusement in her large, slightly tip-tilted eyes, and signed that she wanted him to stand up. When he did, she turned and led him off by one hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that another elven woman had laid claim to Ron.

"Fight to the last, Ron! Never surrender your virtue!" murmured Harry. Startled, Ron jerked out a laugh as their fair captors led them away.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Harry awoke the next morning, he found himself back where the rest of the company slept. Everybody else was there; Ron and Draco were so deeply asleep that he thought he could have fired a pistol without wakening either of them. He was amused to see that both of them were obviously naked under their coverings. Beside them, Aragorn snored away softly, and Boromir turned in his sleep, moaning. Gimli slept deeply as well.

Harry, on the other hand, felt rested and full of bounce. Getting up, he scrambled into his clothes, blushing slightly at the signs of last night's activity. A giggle from behind startled him, and he whirled, to find himself looking at Hermione. "You needn't be so modest with me, Harry Potter. I know how men are made." She grinned the old flashing grin that flickered across her face so quickly that if you blinked, you'd miss it. "After all, there are books on the subject," she said, in an uncanny imitation of Ron's intonation and voice.

"Hermione!"

"I thought they'd try something like that. Some of them do know how to speak languages other than the elven speech, and they were full of questions about you, and Ron---and, of course, Draco." She grinned at Harry's shocked expression. "You really don't understand about women, do you, Harry? When we're alone together, we talk about everything, and I do mean everything. When I told them that we'd never---well, you know---they were quite shocked. Both at you, and Ron, and Draco, for not taking more of an initiative, and at me, for not forcing the issue." She cocked her head to one side. "Don't be such a Victorian, Harry. They don't have the idea that sleeping with someone has to be because you're passionately in love. They put me in mind of Polynesians before the missionaries came."

The others were waking up, and Hermione put her finger to her lips to silence Harry. "Good morning, sleepyheads!" she caroled. The sight of their consternation obviously amused her, and she snickered madly at Ron's and Draco's discomfiture. "If I only had a camera!" she laughed. "Ginny'd get such a kick out of this!"

"You even think of telling Ginny about any of this," blustered Ron, as he scrambled into his clothes under his blankets, "and I'll hex you so badly that Madam Pomfrey'll be working on you for six months!"

"Come now, I'm sure Miss Granger means no harm." Aragorn managed to make peace break out, and they all went off for breakfast. Harry felt, though, that it was getting close to the time when they'd have to leave Lorien.

He smiled to himself---at least he'd received the traditional hero's farewell! He thought about what the Dursleys would think of what he had been doing, and smiled even more broadly. Uncle Vernon would turn green with rage and envy, Aunt Petunia would act as though he, and he alone, had ever done such dreadful, wicked, naughty things---and Dudley would gnash his teeth that Harry had yet again done something that he, Dudley, would never get to do, if Harry knew anything about girls! He remembered the responses he had gotten from his female Hogwarts classmates when he had shown them Dudley's picture. "Re-PULSE-ive!" had been the most positive comment he had heard, and that had been from Gregory Goyle's little sister---an expert comment if ever there was one!

That evening, the whole company seemed to feel that it was time to leave. They were packing their gear, double-checking everything to make sure it was in apple-pie order. Harry rather hoped that they would see the Lady Galadriel one last time, at least---if only so that he could thank her on behalf of his friends and himself.

As though the wish were father to the fact, the Lady herself came around to see how they were doing. She beckoned, and Harry and his classmates followed. Harry was curious about just what she wanted. Hermione's face was alight with eagerness to see something new, and maybe learn something new as well. Galadriel led them into an enclosed garden, where there were no trees growing and the sky could be seen. Looking up, Harry saw that the evening star, Earendil, was above the horizon in the darkening sky. The Lady led them down a long flight of stairs into a hollow near a stream, where a basin of silver stood on a low stand, and a silver ewer was nearby. She filled the basin to the brim, breathed on it, and spoke for the first time. "This is the Mirror of Galadriel, and I have brought you here so that you may look into it."

"So what does it do?" asked Draco. His normal drawl was not to be heard; he was as awed by the Lady as any of the others.

"It shows you things. It may show you the future, it may show you what may come to pass or may not, it may show you the past. I can command it to show what is desired, but the visions that come of themselves are more valuable, if you can interpret them."

"Professor Trelawney should be here," murmured Hermione in Harry's ear. "The old fraud would absolutely die of envy." Harry shushed her absently. At Galadriel's gesture, the four companions came up and peered into the water.

At first, Harry couldn't see anything but the stars, and he thought that this would be like staring into that stupid crystal ball in Divination class. Then, all of a sudden, he saw something else---Hogwarts Castle. The point of view was from across the lake, and he thought he could see the Gryffindor team out practicing Quidditch. Then, the scene changed, and he saw Bilbo, sitting in a room at Rivendell. He was writing something in his book, and the rain lashed down onto his window.

"Hogwarts!" said Hermione, in a voice aching with longing and homesickness. Harry privately agreed with her. He'd have given anything, at that moment, even to see Goyle, Crabbe or Professor Snape again. Hogwarts was far more his home than the Dursleys' ever could be. It was the only home he had. He then remembered all the fun times he'd had at the Burrow, and wondered what was going on there. At that thought, the scene shifted again.

They were now looking at the Burrow, and Ron let out a cry. "That's my family, and my Dad! But why is Dad at home?" Then the scene shifted again, and Ron yelled angrily. "That's Cornelius Fudge---sacking my Dad!" He turned wildly to Galadriel. "I've got to get home! My family need me! I've got to get home!"

"That, you cannot do, Mr. Weasley," said Galadriel, smiling sadly. "Firstly, the Mirror shows things that may happen, as well as things that have happened or are happening. Besides, at home you could do little or nothing to help, and you couldn't get there without your friends. Would you abandon Mr. Potter?"

Ron's face crumpled, and he sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands. "No. No, I won't abandon him. Still and all, if what I saw is true, somebody's going to catch it when I get home!" He began to sob, rackingly, and Hermione knelt to try to comfort him. Draco looked on, helplessly. Now, only Harry and Galadriel were looking into the Mirror.

The scene shifted again, and Harry let out a cry of fear. Against a black, black background, he was looking at a red, lidless eye, with a slit pupil like a cat, or Voldemort. The eye turned, and Harry knew, without knowing how he knew, that he himself was one of the things it sought. The Ring suddenly grew heavy, dragging him down.

"Do not touch the water!" warned Galadriel. The water itself had begun to steam, and Harry jerked back with a considerable effort. As he sprawled on the grass, panting and shaking, he saw Galadriel stepping back from the Mirror. "I know what you saw last, Mr. Potter---and it's something I see often myself. However, know that I know all that is in His mind, at least all that concerns the elves. And He strives to penetrate my thoughts, but the door is closed!" She spread out her beautiful hands, in a gesture of rejection and denial. Harry saw a beautiful ring on her finger, with a gem that shone like starlight.

"Yes," said Galadriel, "you see clearly, Mr. Potter. Elrond couldn't tell you, and it is not allowed to speak of it, but I bear one of the three elven-rings. You can see it because you bear the One. This is why I wasn't happy to see you, because your coming, no matter how things turn out, means the end of Lothlorien. If you fail, we're defenseless against the Enemy, but if you succeed, either I and my folk must leave for the West, or fade into something not dissimilar to your world's 'house-elves.' Yes, Mr. Potter, they were once mighty and beautiful, and they still bear traces of that."

"Maybe you should take the Ring," offered Harry. "You're great, and wise, and all sorts of things that I'm not."

Galadriel laughed softly. "And now I receive payment for my reading of your heart, at our first meeting, Mr. Potter. I've thought for years of what I would do if I had the One Ring. I've wished it had never been made, or that it had stayed lost. And now you offer it to me? In place of the Dark Lord, you would have a Queen. And I would not be dark, at least not at first. I would be beautiful, and terrible---and all would love me, and despair!" She lifted her hand, and the light from her ring's jewel suddenly illuminated the whole clearing, and to Harry, she seemed taller, and more beautiful than any veela, and like a goddess. Then she lowered her hand, and smiled sadly.

"I pass the test, Mr. Potter. Such things hold no charms for me, for I can see the end of that road. Rather than become a new Sauron, I shall go into the West, and stay Galadriel."

Harry bowed. "To be Galadriel should be enough for anybody, I should think." Galadriel smiled and bowed back, obviously delighted at his courtesy.

As Harry and his companions followed Galadriel back out of the clearing, Harry asked: "Why is it that I can't sense the other rings, and know what their owners are thinking?" Galadriel looked at him in concern.

"You have never put on the Ring, Mr. Potter. If you did so, it would have affected you far more severely than it has so far. Even so, you have been changed; you would never have perceived my Ring if you hadn't been." She turned to Ron. "Did you see my Ring?"

"No, Lady," answered Ron, wiping his eyes. "I saw a star near your finger. I wish you did have the One Ring, though. You'd set things to rights, dead quick!"

"So I would begin," said Galadriel, sadly. "But that's not where it would end, unfortunately. Let's go, and not speak of this any more."