AN: Hey, Everyone! I know I'm posting more new stories than I am updating my old, but I promise, I will get them all completed! It's just gonna take a really long time. In the meanwhile, I've decided to try my hand at a Lotr crossover. I'm going to warn you all now, I haven't read the Silmarillion yet, so most of what I put about the Valar I'm getting either from Wiki or other fanfics. I'm sorry for any inaccuracies, and if you see that I've gotten something wrong, please tell me and I will do my best to fix it. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Evelyn and Plot. Everything else belongs to Tolkien and Rowling.

Evelyn Nott née Dursley closed her eyes for the last time and expelled her final breath. She was 134 years old. Her cousin Harry, her best friend, sat beside her, holding her hand, her husband having predeceased her several years ago, and her brother having gone before all of them at the age of 62 due to cancer. Her children were all standing around the bed, her daughters crying into handkerchiefs, her sons holding back their tears. Her grandchildren and great-grandchildren were in the living room, awaiting news. Harry smiled sadly, and, brushing her hair back, kissed her forehead.

"You started your next great adventure without me, Evie. Say hello to the others for me."

In another universe, a sixteen year old red head opened bright blue eyes in a white room with no clothes on. At first, she was calm, relaxed, her cousin had told her about this from the brief ten minutes or so that he'd been dead when they were teenagers. She had expected this. She had not, however, expected the other worldly figures that surrounded her. One of them had flames for eyes. Another appeared to be made of water. She sighed.

"Whatever it is you want, can it wait until Harry joins us? I don't want to go through this twice and I know the only reason I'm here is because of that self-sacrificing idiot."

A fair haired woman chuckled.

"Of course, child. In the meantime, would you like some clothes?"

The girl raked a glance over the room and sighed again.

"Please."

Harry Potter died, of all the ways for the Savior to go, teaching his great-grandson how to ride a broom. He'd gotten on – by himself, because he was well aware of his age, no matter what Lily said – and had proceed to give the boy a practical demonstration on how to control the broom. He got lost in the familiar feeling of freedom that came with flying, but his old hands were brittle, and his grip not what it once was. He went too high, and his joints stiffened up, his hand fell off the handle, and he fell from the broom. Before he went splat on the ground, his last thought was that he hoped this didn't give his great-grandson too great a fear of flying. He had been 140.

He opened his eyes in a white room and, to his confusion, saw his cousin hovering over him, an amused expression on her face. She was a teenager again.

"A broom? Really? Of all the ways for the Chosen One to croak, you fall off a broom?"

He sat up, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up. Better than how Sirius died – playing in the middle of the road as Padfoot at his age." He shook his head. His godfather had been as stubborn and wily in his old age as he'd been as a youth, and his grandkids had wanted to play with 'the doggy'. So he had gone outside with the kids, following them into the road to keep an eye on them. Then a red car came racing down the street and, having superior canine senses, Padfoot had heard it and had managed to get all of the kids to safety in time. Unfortunately, the vehicle was too fast for Padfoot, and the old mutt had been run over. The kids, thankfully, managed to get the body inside before he changed back to their beloved grandfather despite their sobbing. Poor kids didn't stop blaming themselves until Harry and Evelyn had torn into them separately about how the old dog had gone the way he would have wanted to - ensuring the safety of those he loved. Evelyn chuckled, bringing Harry back from his reminiscing.

"True. That mutt, much like you, never did mind the limits his age put on his body."

Harry stuck his tongue out at her.

"I am a free spirit Evelyn! I cannot be restrained!"

She rolled her eyes.

"Not this again, you dozy, old ding-bat." They may both have the appearance of teenagers, but they were well over a century old and would probably continue to act like it. She shook her head.

"Never mind that now, Harry. We've got another adventure awaiting us."

This caught Harry's attention.

"Eve?"

She smiled tiredly at him.

"Look around us, love."

And Harry did. They were surrounded by extraordinarily beautiful people, though, upon closer inspection, he noticed that something seemed off about their eyes. He caught his cousin's grim expression and groaned. Not again.

"Alright, what do you want me to do?"