The Gateway

The Sequel to "The Immortal Hero"

Everything in Tegalad's life is perfect...until he is once again visited by the Valar. Middle Earth is safe again, but Earth, his former home, is not. War has once again started back where he used to belong and he has been asked to help them, for if he doesn't, the gateway between Middle Earth and Earth will be discovered, and the complete destruction of both worlds will begin...

Chapter 2:

Hello Hogwarts

The place hadn't changed at all. The Veil still stood in the centre of the room on a dais, and the doors to exit were still up the stairs. Closing his eyes Tegalad could imagine the room filled with Death Eaters, Order of the Phoenix members, and a handful of school age children. He could see the flashes of light signifying curses being thrown at enemies; hear the cries of pain and the shout of spells. And finally he could see the most important person in his old life falling backwards into the Veil, never to be seen again.

"Are you alright brother?" Eámanë asked, seeing the different emotions flickering over his face. Tegalad nodded.

"It's been so long since I was last here. I just hope I remember the way out."

"Where are we?" Elerossë asked. "This room seems familiar to me. What adventure was this room in?"

"This is where my godfather died," Tegalad whispered in Western. Elerossë nodded in understanding, his eyes darting to and fro without pausing long. Eámanë released her brothers' hands and glided across the room to the stairs. Tegalad kept Vardainiel's hand in his own and followed her, with Elerossë bringing up the rear. They walked mostly in silence, not seeing another living person once. Tegalad ended up leading, doing his best to remember the way out. He was still under the impression that it was pure luck that they had managed to find their way out at all. They had only taken a few wrong turns into rooms that were opened and immediately closed again.

"Ta da," Tegalad said softly as he opened the door that lead out of the Department of Mysteries.

"Excellent, now where do we go?" Elerossë asked.

"This way," Tegalad said, turning to the right and walking. He had sounded confident, but inside he was a bundle of nerves thinking that he would be lucky to go the right way twice in one day. The twins were silent as they walked side by side, doing their best to memorise everything that appeared in front of them. Vardainiel was also silent, but it wasn't out of curiosity. She was being considerate and allowing her husband to find his way without any distractions.

Tegalad found the elevator without too much difficulty, and the four of them boarded easily enough. Tegalad explained, from his memory, that there were usually parchment planes flying around, much like how Hedwig had delivered letters for him in his younger years before she died. Such blatant use of magic was a foreign concept to them, for the magic that Tegalad wielded was only used for serious matters. Anything that could be done by hand was done by hand. Anything else was a sign of laziness.

The lift levels were the same still, at least he thought they were as he couldn't really remember paying much attention to the ones that didn't concern him. At the very least, they made it to the Atrium without accidently getting off on the wrong floor, or having the elevator stop to allow more people to board. That in itself was strange, but Tegalad wouldn't complain about it.

He knew that what they were wearing wasn't typical wizarding wear. All four of them were hooded and cloaked with their dark green elvish cloaks, and Tegalad had shrunk everything that they needed in his pockets so that they wouldn't look even more out of place than they already did. Their ears were covered with their hoods and their hair, for the same reason that Tegalad had originally hid his ears when he met the Fellowship the first time: he didn't know how everyone would react to them.

"Is it supposed to be this quiet?" Elerossë asked curiously as they walked into the Atrium.

"I thought this was the centre of government?" Eámanë added with a furrowed brow.

"It is," Tegalad informed them. "The only time I remember it being this quiet was when my friends and I broke in here when I was fifteen."

"That was a long time ago," Elerossë quipped. Without looking away from the large room Eámanë slapped her twin across the back of his head.

"It was a trap for us then," Tegalad continued, ignoring the byplay. "But now, something must have happened. Let's go to the surface and I'll bring us to Hogwarts. Surely someone there will be able to explain what's happening here."

They managed to get to the surface easily enough. Tegalad had considered using the Floo system, but taking three others with him was not only ill-advised, but really dangerous. Instead they all squeezed into the telephone booth, with the twins asking about it curiously. They had a phone-like system in Gondor, but phone booths such as the one that Tegalad was leading them in were unknown to them.

It was as they exited the phone booth that Tegalad realised that something was really wrong. The streets were deserted; the buildings abandoned and broken, graffiti adorned the sides of the buildings and cars left destroyed on the sides of the streets. It was the scene from a war-torn country that Tegalad had almost forgotten. He stood still and silent, gaping at the desolation before them. A newspaper crashed into his legs, courtesy of the wind. One glance allowed Tegalad to roughly know the date and what was happening in London.


The streets of London were once again overrun yesterday following the implementation of a stricter curfew and a complete ban on international travel. With the death toll reaching the high thousands, authorities are hard pressed to control the anarchists and find the culprit behind the mass murders. Her Majesty supports the police effort and requests that anyone with information to step forward. Currently the deaths have been restricted to England, but there is still fear that the person responsible will move onto other countries until panic infects our world.

"We must get to Hogwarts," Tegalad eventually whispered. "There has to be someone nearby who can tell me what's going on."

"What language is this?" Vardainiel asked, looking over her husband's shoulder curiously. "I cannot make it out."

"This is English, my native language," Tegalad murmured. "It is remarkably similar to Western, though the accent is slightly different. You should have no problem being understood, though the written language will take a little adjusting to. I will teach you when I know what's going on. Now, grab on. We're Jumping."

Three hands grabbed onto his arms in preparation for Fire Jumping. They had long been accustomed to Tegalad's preferred method of magical travel, and they barely flinched as flames wrapped around their bodies and the wind carried their ashes to their net destination…Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Tegalad opened his eyes as they landed just beyond the gates of his old home. It looked exactly like he remembered it being, and was untouched by whatever war was currently underway. With the sun going down, the lights had started to turn on and the view of an ancient castle surrounded by nothing but wilderness was enchanting. Eámanë and Vardainiel gasped in delight at the sight of the school, while Elerossë nodded his approval. Despite how accustomed they had become to the modern world of Middle Earth, there was just something homely about the old ways.

Pausing just long enough for his family to bask in Hogwarts' glorious view, Tegalad started to lead the way up to the gates. He wondered if the castle would recognise him, and if those who had rebuilt her had adjusted the wards in a particular way. A pulse of warmth washed over him as he rested his hands on the gate. He was asking for permission to enter, and with nary a sound the gates opened allowing him to enter.

Tegalad smiled as he walked through the wards with his family. He had no idea of the date, only that forty years had passed since he had walked through the school. He assumed that school was in session, as the lights were on, but as to what time of year it was…possibly autumn or spring judging by the temperature.

Vardainiel linked her arm around Tegalad's right arm, whereas the twins walked just behind them. Eyes jumped everywhere as they tried to take in as much as possible. Tegalad joyfully noticed that Hagrid's hut looked well used, meaning that the groundskeeper was still employed at the school. The Whomping Willow stood proudly on its own, the greenhouses were dark, and over in the distance was the Quidditch Stadium.

For all intents and purposes, nothing had changed. But Tegalad could still see the signs of the last war on the brickwork, on the grounds. There were little holes scattered randomly, now covered in lush grass, but still noticeably there. The bricks had scorch marks, and on the door above the entrance was a plaque:

To all those lost – you will never be forgotten

Every brick around the entrance door had a name and two dates on it. The first date was the day of their birth, and then the second the day of their death. Tegalad looked at them all sadly, recognising several names with a heavy heart. It wasn't until they were closer to the door that he stopped in shock, recognising the name just above the handles.

Harry Potter
1980 – 1998
Because of you we survive
In your name we live

Tegalad stared at his name, the only name with a message on it. He never expected that his friends would have that done for him; he had never wanted anything more than to live. To have his name immortalised like that, where everyone entering the school would see it, warmed him. His family stared at him in confusion, not recognising the name for he had never told them it. To them, he had always been Tegalad who just happened to come from another world.

"Let's go," he whispered. He pushed open the door gently and walked in. To his right he could hear many voices talking behind another closed door. The Great Hall was packed by the sounds of it, and he hesitated for a brief moment before walking towards it. He gently forced Vardainiel to release his arm so that he could enter alone, though he knew that she and the twins would only be a few steps behind him. His hood covered his face, though he assumed that no one would be able to recognise him. One deep breath was all he allowed himself in preparation before he forced the doors open with a bang.

Absolute silence greeted him as several hundred faces turned to look at him in curiosity, alarm and fear. The teachers up at the Head Table stood with their wands out instantly, and Tegalad smiled softly under his hood as he recognised several people now glaring at him.

"Identify yourself stranger!" the Headmaster ordered, his voice cold. Tegalad slowly lowered his arms from where they had been extended to push the doors open. He stepped forward slowly, unthreatening, but still silent. The students he walked passed shrunk away in fear, and Tegalad noticed that there were several Gryffindors with Weasley red hair. He was happy that at least a few of his former friends had lived beyond the war.

"Stop!" the Headmaster ordered again, this time sending a spell at him. Tegalad saw it and gently leaned to the side so that it wouldn't hit him. The twins, growing up, had been little pranksters who always tried to hit him with something or other so he had gotten a lot of practice dodging. Several students gasped, and a handful screamed as the curse missed. Judging from the colour, Tegalad assumed that it was merely meant to freeze him in place, not actually harm him.

He stopped walking halfway down the tables. Moving slowly, he raised his arms to his hood and pushed it back to reveal his youthful features. More gasps echoed, this time from the Head Table. The Headmaster actually dropped his wand in shock and sat down, completely stunned. Tegalad grinned at him, bowing slightly.

"You got old Neville," he said, his voice echoing up to the table easily. "That beard looks good on you."

"It's not possible," the Headmaster, Neville, whispered. "You died."

"But you didn't find a body," Tegalad pointed out. "I just went somewhere better. But now I'm back, and what a mess you've gotten into without me."

Neville was still in shock, his mouth open in disbelief. Neville was still predominately brown haired, but there was still a significant sprinkling of grey. His beard was closely cropped to his chin, but it gave him a dignified appearance that made him seem knowledgeable. Off to his side was a regal blond man, and Tegalad had to look at him closely in order to recognise him. Looking remarkably like his father, Draco Malfoy stood staring at him in horror. Tegalad noticed that his hands were gripping the table in a white knuckled grip. There were others at the table, but looking at them Tegalad couldn't recognise them. His eyes flashed over the Hall, finally noticing what holiday was being separated.

"I see I interrupted Halloween," he stated. "How rude of me. I shall excuse myself and meet you at your office Neville. I think I remember the way, so I don't need an escort. Enjoy the remainder of your meal."

With that Tegalad spun gracefully and walked out of the Hall, his cloak billowed out behind him. He was mildly surprised that his family had waited at the doors for him, and he grabbed Vardainiel's hand as he passed her. The twins were looking at him curiously. Halloween didn't exist in Middle Earth; children had no desire to dress up as mythological creatures when they knew that they existed. Granted, the last dragon had died before the twins were born, and the elves were now gone from the land, but the dwarves still hid in the mines and the trees in Fangorn forest only moved when they felt like it. What was myth for the muggles of Earth was a reality for the children of Middle Earth. Wizarding children celebrated the Day of Dead and feasted, but the closest the Telcontar family had come to Halloween was the anniversary of the end of the war where they celebrated the victory and mourned those who had sacrificed themselves to ensure victory.

Tegalad lead his family through the winding halls, making only one wrong turn, to the Headmaster's office. The stone gargoyle looked exactly the same as Tegalad remembered, and just like he remembered the guardian didn't let anyone enter without a password. To pass the time until Neville and whoever else arrived, Tegalad explained Halloween as best as he could. They didn't have to wait for long before footsteps echoed loudly on the stone floor as several people made their way towards them. Tilting his head to the side, Tegalad identified four different footsteps.

The advantage of being an elf included impeccable hearing and superb eyesight. The hearing attribute had helped him a lot when he was avoiding his siblings or just didn't want to be attacked. No one could sneak up on him unless he wanted them to.

Elerossë, Eámanë and Vardainiel all had their hoods up still, and Tegalad gestured that they keep them up for as long as possible. He would introduce them when the time was right. Neville and Draco lead the way, both with their wands out, and behind them was another man and a woman. Tegalad didn't recognise them, but then again, he was surprised that he had remembered Neville and Draco at all. He sent up a quick prayer of gratitude to the Valar for allowing him to recall their faces.

Neville opened the entrance, whispering the password so that the elves couldn't hear, but they heard anyway. Tegalad grinned broadly as the password, Cockroach Clusters, passed his friend's lips. It seemed that there was a tradition of sorts that needed to be upheld in choosing sweets for the Headmaster's password. Neville entered the passageway first, with the elves following next and the other three teachers bringing up the rear. The twins and Vardainiel exclaimed softly in elvish as the passageway moved on its own without any technological input.

Entering the Headmaster's office was like stepping into a memory with a few gaping differences. The plethora of junk that Albus Dumbledore had kept everywhere was gone, as was Fawkes' stand. On the walls were the Headmasters and Headmistresses of the past, and Tegalad grinned happily as he recognised his old Headmaster. He bowed his head in recognition, and the portrait smiled happily upon recognising him. If portraits could cry, Albus Dumbledore would definitely be in tears.

"Alright, how is this possible?" Neville asked, bringing the attention to him as he sat in the Headmaster's chair. "You died, there was no way that you could have survived with your injuries. And then there is the fact that you don't look like you've aged at all. It's been forty years!"

"So you were scrawny back then as well," Elerossë murmured just loud enough for everyone to hear. Eámanë smacked the back of his head again, and Tegalad didn't bother to look back in irritation. Elerossë would always be Elerossë.

"What you say is true, to a point," Tegalad began. He flicked his wrist and conjured a chair out of thin air. He normally disliked using his magic so frivolously, but he needed to make a point. His family shook their heads when he silently asked if they wanted a chair as well. Sitting down as if he were an honoured guest instead of an intruder, Tegalad looked at Neville with serious eyes. "When I was here last, I was in a bad place. My body was broken, and my mind was fractured. I would never have recovered here. I looked around once I had won, and all I saw was death. Shadow and Hedwig appeared by my side, and the three of us were swept up into a new world where I would be able to heal."

"We were injured, not dead," Draco interrupted. His nose was turned up in a sneer, and Tegalad tilted his head to the side curiously as he saw his old Potion's Master before him.

"You were dead," Tegalad told him without batting an eye at his attitude. "As a favour to me, the one who took me away would heal all who died with injuries. Any killed via the Killing Curse, however, would remain dead. For years I mourned you all, thinking you were all dead. My family helped me move passed your deaths, taught me to live again."

"I still don't believe you," the unnamed man spoke up. He was easily the youngest person in the room, and Tegalad wondered who he was. He couldn't have been any older than thirty-five. His hair was reddish, though not quite Weasley red, and his eyes were a piercing blue. "My parents told me stories about what happened, and what you say sounds similar, but everyone who was there tells it like that. How do we know that you are who you say you are?"

"I'm not familiar with you," Tegalad mentioned. "Who are you?"

"You're kidding, right?" the man asked. "You don't know who I am? I am Fredrick Gideon Weasley, the son of the Minister of Magic and charms master."

"Weasley, huh?" Tegalad murmured. "Percy's kid?"

"My father, Percival Weasley, is a great man."

"What happened to you then?" Tegalad asked him. Draco's sneer slipped slightly; apparently he disliked Fredrick as much as he had disliked Ron when they were children.

"How dare you?" Fredrick demanded. "I am far better than you are."

"My Lord," Vardainiel murmured, her voice intentionally carrying over to Fredrick. "Do not waste your time with such filth. He is not worth paying attention to."

Fredrick flushed in anger, but Tegalad nodded his agreement with his wife. He knew why she had spoken up, and appreciated her efforts. She hated anyone who didn't show him respect, for it was partly due to him that Middle Earth had been peaceful for as long as it had. The citizens of their world never knew how hard Tegalad fought to maintain peace.

"My memory of that time has faded," Tegalad continued, speaking to Neville, Draco and the woman, ignoring Fredrick. "It was so long ago, and remembering the hardships I endured is not something I long to do. However, I understand that proof is needed."

Tegalad stood from his chair and dismissed it with a casual wave. Flames raced down his right arm, like a snake uncoiling from a curled up position, and from the flames a sword materialised. This sword was unique in both the wizarding world and Middle Earth, for it was formed by Tegalad's mind. To his knowledge, only three people in the room, aside from the twins and Vardainiel, had ever seen it before.

"The Sword of Flames," Neville breathed. "I never thought I would see it again."

"Forgery," Fredrick spat without interest. "There have been many duplicates over the years on the Black Market."

"No," Neville told him sternly. "This is the original, I would know it anywhere. It was the last thing I saw before I passed out. This is my friend."

"You died Neville," Tegalad told him, seemingly carelessly spinning the flaming sword. "It was a table leg, if I remember quickly. You were dead before you hit the ground. Luna was near you, missing the back of her head. Of course, my nightmares have played the battle in my mind so many times that I've forgotten who was there exactly."

"Oh Harry," the woman sighed in sympathy. "Where have you been?"

"Harry?" Elerossë asked before he could help himself. "Teg, what haven't you told us?"

"Elle, I will tell you everything after we've figured out what's going on," Tegalad said in elvish, his eyes still focused on the wizards. "Please don't make a scene now. I'm sorry ma'am, but I don't remember you."

"Of course you wouldn't," the woman said with a smile. "I have changed a lot since we last saw each other, and even then we weren't the closest of friends. Gabrielle Delacour, my sister competed with you in the Triwizard Tournament before the war."

Tegalad suddenly remembered the little eight year old who had been a hostage in the lake. She had certainly grown up into a beautiful woman, and he smiled at her in sudden remembrance. Her accent had faded away, and only when he listened really closely could he pick up another accent.

"Ah, little Gabby who isn't so little anymore," Tegalad said with a smile. "What do you teach?"

"Transfiguration," Gabrielle replied. "Professor McGonagall was my mentor when I studied for my Masters, and once I passed she retired and I took over her post."

"Really," Tegalad continued. A soft cough reminded him that he had an agenda being at the school, so he returned his attention to Neville. "What happened Neville? As you said, it's only been forty years, why is there another war? Muggle London is deserted, the Ministry was deserted, and newspapers talk about anarchy…and now my new home is being threatened."

"I don't know what you want me to say Harry," Neville admitted. "You remember how the Ministry was? Nothing really changed after Voldemort was killed. We pretty much went back to the way it was."

"And now you're paying for it. Who is the enemy?"

"My son," Draco spat. "The little idiot has taken after his grandfather in his delusions of grandeur. He is firmly of the belief that the Dark Lord went about dominating the wizarding world the wrong way. He has already destroyed most of England, it's been hard keeping the muggles in the dark about magic. Purebloods are flocking to him, and now they're targeting muggleborns. The Ministry is useless, as usual."

"Take that back!" Fredrick ordered. "My father is the greatest Minister we've ever had!"

"Your father is too busy making the Ministry look good than fighting against Scorpious," Draco snapped at him. "If you're too blind to see that then you deserve to be among the dead."

"Scorpious?" Tegalad questioned. "What is it with your family and strange names?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Draco redirected his annoyance. "Teg? Is that what he called you?"

"He is Prince Tegalad," Eámanë scolded him. "The hero of our people. He is responsible for the past six centuries of peace that we have experienced."

"Six centuries?" Gabrielle asked, her eyes wide. "It's only been forty years."

Tegalad looked at Eámanë with a frown. She had the decency to look sheepish under his stare, but not repentant. He sighed and turned back to those he had known.

"When I left here, I was a mess. The Valar, Gods of Middle Earth, gave me a new life in a new world. It was in Middle Earth that I healed and gained a family. And yes, we have experienced six centuries of peace, and I have lived that long because I am not exactly human anymore. I was reborn as an elf, an immortal creature."

"An elf?" Fredrick laughed. "Of all the bloody creatures you could be you become an elf?"

"What is wrong with being an elf?" Elerossë asked curiously, and slightly hurt. "Teg?"

Tegalad flicked his hair behind his ears to reveal his pointed ears. He glared at Fredrick and lifted the sword so that it was aimed at his throat. Fredrick stopped laughing instantly and paled.

"I have every right to demand your life for the insult you just gave me, my siblings and my wife," he whispered, his voice cold and deadly. "The only reason that I hesitate is because your family was like my own, once upon a time. This will be your last warning. Insult me and mine again and I will take your life."

"Harry!" Neville cried in disapproval. "He meant no disrespect, please, lower your sword."

Tegalad did so, reluctantly, and allowed the sword to disappear. He was angry, he had honestly forgotten how harsh the prejudice of the wizarding world was. Their hatred of anything non-human shouldn't have surprised him, but it did.

"Why don't you introduce your companions?" Gabrielle suggested, breaking through the uncomfortable silence. Tegalad nodded and gestured with his hand to his siblings first.

"King Elerossë of Gondor, my younger brother, and his twin sister Princess Eámanë. Both live in Gondor, though they often travel outside for freedom and adventure."

Elerossë and Eámanë both lowered their hoods, revealing their elvish features, their beauty, and their regal stares. Tegalad refrained from laughing at them, knowing that they just wanted to be intimidating. His hand then gestured to his wife.

"My wife Lady Vardainiel, who has been my everything for more than five hundred years."

Vardainiel lowered her hood and shook out her hair so that it flowed down her back instead of under her cloak. Her eyes rested on each occupant of the room without judgement, though she did frown when she rested her gaze on Fredrick.

"It is an honour to meet the family of my friend," Neville greeted. "But I must ask, why have you come back now? How did you come back?"

"How is something that I intend to keep to myself for now, but as to why? Well, your enemy is threatening my world. I intend to keep it safe by any means necessary."

"Why were you in the Ministry?" Fredrick demanded. "It is strictly off limits to any non-Ministry personnel."

"My business," Tegalad told him frostily. "It does not concern you."

"Harry, my boy, how are you?"

Tegalad looked up to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore with a smile. He had known that the old man wouldn't have been able to help but talk to him, and commended him on keeping quiet for as long as he had.

"I am well, Headmaster," he told him. "Yourself?"

"So much better now that I've seen you again, my boy," Dumbledore replied. "The last I saw of you was not a memory that I wanted. What Tom did to you…I am glad to see that you have overcome the trauma."

"Father helped him through his nightmares when he lived," Eámanë told the portrait. "I remember father sitting with him when I was still an elfling."

"It took a great many years for me to overcome what Voldemort did to me," Tegalad admitted, looking at his sister quickly. "But I did, and now I'm back."

"Where will you be staying?" Neville asked.

"I was hoping that you'd be able to help me out there Neville," Tegalad admitted, somewhat sheepishly. "And someone to tell me what I've missed? Ron and Hermione? The Weasley family? What happened after the battle?"

"I'll give you one of the spare rooms that we have," Neville acquiesced. "The Order of the Phoenix meets here, you missed today's meeting, but tomorrow you're welcome to join us. As for Ron and Hermione, I'll invite them here tomorrow and you will be able to catch up in person."

"I'd like that," Tegalad agreed. "It is good to see you again Neville. And I'll also admit that I'm glad to see you too Malfoy."

"Yeah, whatever Potter," Draco muttered waving his hand. "I haven't been able to annoy anyone as much as I annoyed you."

"Admit it Malfoy, you missed me too."


Tegalad laughed. Neville cracked a smile and dismissed everyone, intending to take the four elves to their new room on his own. He wanted to catch up with his friend as well, and learn about Middle Earth.

So, it's been two whole years since I updated this. I can only apologise for the really long wait but I would like to think that you would prefer to wait for something good, than to have a rushed version of the chapter that is less than good. Reading your reviews has been good for me, as of this moment I have 55 reviews for the last chapter. The encouragement that you give me helps, and I will try not to let another two years pass before uploading another chapter.

Next chapter will have a few more reunions, some history of what's happened, and maybe an outline on how the war has and will progress.

Till next time!