The Lost Elfling

A/N I own nothing. I'm not making any money for this story.

Chapter 1

There was complete silence in the Great Hall of Hogwarts where there had previously been chaos and screams of horror and pain. One man, little more than a boy, stumbled through the rubble and dead bodies, distantly recognising several faces. His robes were little more than rags from the weeks of torture he had endured and his green eyes were hollow and lost.

The Dark Lord Voldemort had captured the boy a week into his seventh and final year of schooling at Hogwarts. That had been a bit more than a month ago. The loss of their beloved savior so soon after the death of revered Albus Dumbledore had sent the wizarding world into mass panic, easily allowing the Dark Lord to take over. Hogwarts was the last to fall but Voldemort eventually managed, keeping the survivors as hostages or playmates for himself and his Death Eaters. To celebrate such a crushing victory, Voldemort had dragged the world's savior to Hogwarts and presented him to the hostages. The sight of their once proud and charismatic leader standing broken and defeated beside the Dark Lord had crushed what lingering hope many had still grasped. The boy was forced to watch as the Death Eaters proudly and eagerly killed and tortured every hostage. The dark haired, green eyed boy could not stand by and do nothing though…

Flashback

"As you can see young Harry, I have finally succeeded. Hogwarts is now open to me without any opposition." Harry looked around without emotion at the once magnificent Great Hall. As if detached, the tortured boy recognised his friends, classmates and teachers looking at him in horror.

"Nothing to say?" the Dark Lord prompted. Harry turned his head slowly to look at his tormentor. He recognised the look on the Dark Lord's face as one that promised much pain simply for enjoyment, moments before the blinding pain of the Cruciatus Curse hit him. His screams echoed in the silence of the Hall for what felt like an eternity. When the curse was finally lifted Harry immediately rose to his shaking legs as to prevent more pain if he refused to stand. The past month had taught him that at least. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the many Death Eaters in the Hall lift their wands, aiming at the hostages, ready to fire any curse.

"It's time to say goodbye Harry," Voldemort said softly. "Say goodbye to the last remnants of the so called 'Light' side." The insane Dark Lord laughed. Harry looked at his friends, a hint of defiance shining in his dead eyes. He saw the deathly green light of the Killing Curse erupt from several wands and his eyes locked with the familiar hazel eyes he had fallen in love with. She stared at him with so much love that Harry felt his magic respond out of need to protect her.

"I love you," she whispered. Harry felt a tear escape from his eye and smiled softly at her. His smile, however, slid from his face as she slumped to the ground in the wake of the Killing Curse.

"No," he whispered. Time seemed to slow down as he turned to face the Dark Lord who seemed to freeze in horror at the cold look his prisoner was giving him. Harry felt his anger and hate rise inside him from where he had squashed it after the first week of torture. Sorrow for his love's death and the deaths of countless innocents increased his power. His magic that had deserted him in the dungeons returned full force, blinding everyone who still lived. Death Eaters screamed in pain as their robes caught on fire and refused to be put out no matter how much water they doused themselves with. A strange wind knocked spells away from the intended victim much to the annoyance and frustration of those still able to cast spells.

"What is going on?!" Voldemort bellowed angrily. Harry faced him without fear and held out his right hand. A bright flash startled everyone and drew the attention of the survivors to the Dark Lord and Harry Potter. The sword of Gryffindor materialized in Harry's hand and he darted forward, aiming for the Dark Lord's heart. Voldemort was too stunned to move and was unable to stop the magic sword from giving him a fatal wound. He was dead before he hit the ground. The backlash of Dark Magic killed all who were still alive leaving only Harry Potter standing, the sword of Gryffindor glittering in the firelight.

Lord Voldemort, the most feared wizard alive, was finally dead.

Flashback End

Harry had knelt by a familiar redhead, trying to remember the good times. Her red hair, the vibrancy of fire, had always shimmered in any light, making the young girl seem almost ethereal. Her hazel eyes that had moments ago spoken of their love to him were glossed over in death, staring at something only she could see. Her lips still taunted him, a soft smile still on her face. With reluctance, Harry closed his girlfriend's eyes and stood up, wincing as he did so. He was pretty sure that he had at least a couple of broken ribs, along with the numerous scars and bruises scattered across his body. He was starving as the last thing he had eaten had been a stale sandwich a couple of days previously, but the thought of food made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

A low growl distracted the seventeen year old from his morbid thoughts, and he turned sharply to face his adversary. He dropped to his knees again with his arms open wide in greeting as he recognised the black wolf with varying shades of grey on his paws and snout. The wolf bounded over, overjoyed to see his master again.

Harry had found the young wolf during the summer holidays at the Burrow. The wolf had been injured so Harry had healed him, thus gaining a devoted and loyal friend. It was from the wolf's actions that Harry had come up with what he thought was an appropriate name: Shadow. After Harry had been captured he had worried about his canine friend and wondered what had become of him.

"Shadow," Harry whispered wrapping his arms around the wolf's neck. His voice was hoarse from disuse and continuous screaming. Shadow licked the boy's face in greeting, and although Harry didn't laugh, smile, or even twitch his lips like he normally would have, his face did soften slightly.

"They're all dead Shadow, I couldn't stop it, I couldn't save them," Harry's voice was soft and almost inaudible but Shadow responded with a soft whining. The two sat still for several minutes before Harry decided to lie down. Shadow immediately put his head on the boy's chest. Harry raised his hand and scratched the wolf behind his ears.

"I wish we could leave," Harry announced softly. "I wish we could disappear and go somewhere else." Shadow lifted his head and licked his master's hand. Harry lifted his head to look at the wolf.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he confessed in little more than a murmur. He lay his head back down and closed his eyes. His breathing slowed down drastically, alarming the animal. Shadow knocked his head against Harry's still hand but the boy did nothing. In distress, Shadow howled mournfully. The echo seemed to go on for a long time. When silence returned, Shadow began to notice the ever approaching mist. It flitted over everything, leaving nothing behind. Shadow growled, forming a defensive position in front of his master. The mist drifted around them, forming a circle. Shadow whimpered slightly and pushed his cold nose against Harry's hand. A flash of light caught them both and when it cleared there was no one left.

Harry and Shadow had disappeared.


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