I do not own Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter

Gandalf gazed down at the babe who had been placed upon the table. Glittering emerald green eyes that he'd never seen quite the equal to gazed back up at him. A sweet coo came from the child as it clumsily reached for his beard.

Sticking his tongue out in a silly gesture he smoothed back the messy and wild hair from its forehead. An ugly red scar glared up at the wizard- dark magic pulsed from it in sickening waves. Touching it Gandalf experienced an echo from the magic- the scream of a frightened woman, an evil laugh and a blinding green light.

"Someone has tried to murder this babe with dark magic." A moment later the wizard wished he'd chosen his words with better tact. Elrond had lost all color in his face and Prince Legolas looked utterly wounded.

"Murder? You are certain Gandalf?" Aragorn approached as though he might take the child into his arms and shield it.

"There is no doubt."

"What I can tell the dark spell cast was meant to kill. Why the child lives I do not know."

The wizard considered Tauriel a moment, "You must resemble his mother. For I heard a woman's voice cry out and it was silenced just as swiftly."

The orc stood in the corner wringing its hands as though it did not like that the child was so far from it. "You is able to be helping Harry Potter, Sir Wizard?"

"Was it this beast? For it has powers- we have seen them!" Aragorn asked harshly wondering if he should have indeed felled the small creature the moment he'd laid eyes upon it.

Gandalf knelt before the orc and took its hand, he could feel its magic. Unlike any he'd ever seen and yet not a drop of it seemed dark. The creature was certainly not of the Istari despite the magic that thrummed around it. To tell the truth when he felt its power Gandalf was somehow reminded of a safe and cozy home- perhaps like the cozy Hobbit Holes of the Shire.

"It is likely that this orc saved the baby's life. For it is no secret that it holds a great love for this child." That alone was an incredible fact- that an orc could feel love enough to do what this one had done. Ventured a great distance to bring its charge to the safety of the elves.

Clearing his throat Gandalf nodded his head and tapped his chest, "Gandalf." And then pointed to it.

It seemed to understand what he was after and not a moment later it mimicked him, "Dobby."

The small orc clambered up the chair to reach the babe who went gladly into its arms. Holding the babe it announced, "Harry Potter."

The first name was a mannish name and he could not place the second name. It was no wonder the hobbits and Aragorn had mistook the child for a man babe with its first name being so very clearly a name of the race of men. But then, Orcs were not much in the habit of name-giving.

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Gandalf sat puffing upon his pipe on the balcony as he pondered deeply at what must be done for he felt that the curse was still attached to the child. Removing it could mean the death of the child but to leave it there might be even worse.

He thought of the creature Gollum and how it had been twisted by the Ring and of the creation of the Orc race. A cursed elf might turn even worse. Time was short and a decision must be made before he left with the newly formed fellowship.

The next morning he relayed his musings to Elrond whom looked deeply troubled at the news that the child was still afflicted with a death curse. But the Elf Lord agreed that they could not allow the child to suffer with such a curse upon it- an attempt should be made to remove it.

It was arranged that very afternoon to have his best healers present in the Halls of Healing. Tauriel was summoned from her small home with the orc called Dobby and the elfling. Dobby staunchly refused to let Harry out of his sights and every time he was ushered from the room to wait alongside the red haired woman he simply snapped his fingers back to the babe's side. Gandalf saw the futility of keeping the orc away and thus allowed it to stay in the corner.

"They is removing the badness, yes. Dobby understands now." He'd thought they had been planning on sending Harry Potter back home to Hogwarts, without Dobby. It seemed as though he was wrong, they seemed interested in his scar more than anything else.If these people could do such a thing for his little wizard friend Dobby would let them. Harry Potter would want to be free of the Dark Lords magic he was sure. And perhaps once the Dark Lords magic was gone they could go home.

The babe screamed as Gandalf held his staff above him and chanted. Instantly the oppressive weight of magic hung heavily in the hall of healing. It swirled and pulsed like a living being around the child. A snap like a bolt of lightning sounded as a wave of black magic poured from the scar filling the room with a dark miasma that made all present shiver at the evil.

But Gandalf stood rooted to his spot, calling upon his powers to vanquish the dark spell. Blinding light and the swirling shadows dueled viciously above the child. In the end light overtook the darkness, piercing through valiantly.

"Oh no." The wizard gazed sadly at the babe, it lay still and silent. The child had ceased to draw breath and a great cry poured from the healers present as they frantically swarmed the small body. After several minutes of attempting to revive him they had to stop when their efforts appeared futile. Two of the healers had to be removed from the room, so distraught were they. Even Lord Elrond could not keep the tears from flowing down his cheek. To have been given such a hope only to have it snatched from them in so cruel a manner.

The worst of it was the kindly orc who seemed to be in denial as it approached the babe, calling to it. It clambered onto the bed and took the still body into its arms and spoke to it clearly expecting an answer. Tears began to stream from its large eyes as it cried out to Gandalf. There was no mistaking the question despite the language barrier 'What have you done!?'

The wizard held his head low, the elves would no doubt despise him forever. Though it had not been his fault- it was the sheer evil of the curse that had snuffed the innocent life.

For a moment Elrond thought Tauriel had come into the room and he made to call out to her when he realized he was mistaken. A translucent woman with fire-red hair drifted towards the babe. The woman and Tauriel could have been sisters, so startling was the resemblance. The spirit leaned over her child and sweetly placed a kiss upon his brow. With a final smile and look around the room the spirit faded. A weak cry sounded and the weeping within the room stopped. Elrond himself began to tend to the child alongside his healers. Several hours later they deemed to child stable enough with no lasting damage from the curse.

"Dah-by!" The child cried out and in an instant the creature was there weeping once more as the child grasped at one of the ears.

The elfling had died and yet had returned to the land of the living! Tales would be told of this day.

The orc was even less inclined to leave the babes side much to the consternation of Tauriel. The loyalty and love was to be commended was all Elrond could think as the creature appeared to be lecturing the woman on how to feed the child from the leather milk bladder.

It had been decided by Elrond that the child should remain in Tauriel's care for the fact that the orc itself had offered the child to her as well as the fact that the maiden looked like the child's mother. A mother whose love was so powerful she'd evidently fought death itself to save her son. An unprecedented feat worthy of legend.

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Harry yawned as he felt himself awaken from his sleep. Feeling curiously well rested- he'd not been sleeping well ever since the goblet had spat out his name. But what a strange dream he'd had! The recollection was more than he usually remembered of his dreams. The last dream he remembered this clearly was the one about a flying motorbike!

In his dream he'd been carried by a giant Dobby who'd put socks on their heads and then prattled on about omelets. And then there were short people, not unlike professor Flitwick, and Sirius had been there too… And he'd carried a sword and had remained human. Normally when he dreamed of Sirius the man transformed into his animagus form.

Harry pursed his lips, unwilling to open his eyes – not wanting the dream to slip any further. At least Neville wasn't snoring. But that only meant he was late for breakfast… but a moment or two more couldn't hurt.

The dream had then taken a dark turn- a dementor had attacked him but he also recalled his mother. She'd had jewelry for some reason but then, dreams made little sense. He wished he had more dreams with her in them. And then the last part of the dream he could recall involved Headmaster Dumbledore making silly faces at him.

Hunger made itself known until Harry could no longer put off getting up. Opening his eyes with another jaw-popping yawn he looked up at the silken ruby red curtain of his four-poster bed. Or rather, he should have seen that. Instead he saw a white stone ceiling. Hospital Wing, then?

But no, he'd remember landing himself in the hospital wing. The stonework on the ceiling was all wrong too. Gone was the vaulted gothic architecture Harry knew quite well having been a frequent visitor to the hospital wing. The architecture currently above him was a lighter white and the mason work was far more intricate and dare he say 'dainty' than the castle's.

Just where was he?

Sooo… fun fact my autocorrect likes to forcibly change 'Dobby' to 'Debby'. If this happens I apologize.

But it made me think of Dobby slowly placing a blonde bouffant lady wig on his head and saying, "Dobby is not Debby. But for you Dobby can be…" and then proceeding to blow an air kiss….

Yeah, sorry to leave it on such cliffhanger, but that's all my brain will give me right now.

I'd love to hear what you guys think might happen next?

Who knows I may even get some cool ideas!