So we come to it at last, the final chapter of this revised story. I am truly humbled by the attention it has garnered, and thank you all for reading up to this point. Please, enjoy the finale of Age of Magic! ~F

Epilogue

The End of All Things

Draco stood frozen as his father fell, mutely watching the scene unfold. A wide range of emotions sprinted through his mind, from terror that Bellatrix was about to strike him down, to hope at his father's timely arrival and proclamation that Draco was indeed still his son, joy that Lucius had never truly stopped loving him, and finally sorrow and anger that Bellatrix ruthlessly struck the man down.

Bellatrix, growing more insane with every moment, was gloating, practically crowing as she danced about and laughed. Draco could not hear her, so close to being lost in his own despair. But before he could sink too far away, a burning at his side distracted him. Turning slightly, still deaf to the taunts and ranting of his Aunt, Draco noticed the sword Andúril. The blade brought warmth back to his body, almost in a reassuring way.

Solemnly understanding that it was up to him to redeem the name of his family, both branches, Draco lurched to his feet, the sword of kings shining brightly once more. "Aunt Bellatrix," he declared, interrupting her rant, "your sins to our people run long and deep, and in the name of the free peoples of the Earth I cannot allow you to escape again to wreak more havoc among my people! Prepare yourself for the justice that awaits you!" he said, growing to a commanding yell.

"You may try, dear nephew…" Bellatrix cackled, hefting her wand again with a smirk. At the same time, the orcs around them started to move once again, converging on Draco's position and his warriors all around.

"Elendil! Elendil!" Draco cried, rallying his warriors. "For freedom and the Lords of the West!" the men, dwarves, goblins, and other creatures of the forces of light roared their support, and readiness to die for their own freedom, and a cry from the West answered them.

High in the sky, soaring toward them like a mighty wave, were great winged creatures. From all that he had read and learned in the halls of Orthanc, Draco understood what was happening. The Valar had seen their valor, and deemed their forces one that required victory, and the great Lord of the West, Manwë himself, had sent his servants the eagles to fight.

At the same time, towards the forest where the battle was fiercest, the forest exploded into a whirling of branches and roots. The trees themselves, so angered from what Draco could only guess at was the death of Quickbeam, literally rose up from their places, and fell upon the orcs, greater and more terrible than anything the Whomping Willow had hoped to unleash.

A great roar was heard from the far side of the castle, and a giant, far smaller than the others of Voldemort's forces charge in, another significantly smaller figure beside him, and Draco's heart swelled to see that Hagrid, the simple-minded but big-hearted friend had come to their aid. Warriors poured from the castle, the last of which who had held back to defend the innocent that were trapped, somehow feeling their need to be on the field of battle, and with eyes magnified by the magic of Númenor, Draco could see the Professors of the school he had felt most at home leading students and soldier alike in a last mounted attack, spells flying in an ever increasing barrage to rid the school of the filth of darkness.

A flash of fire materialized on the far side of Bellatrix, and the mad witch whirled, stepping back as the orb of flame revealed both Harry and Faykan, along with Dumbledore's phoenix, all alive and well from their battle with the Dark Lord.

"It is over, Bellatrix. Your Lord is no more, and his darkness had ended." Harry commanded.

"Lies!" Bellatrix roared, lifting her wand, and the curse she knew so well on her lips. Time seemed to slow, and Draco knew what had to be. He loved family, and knew the power that it possessed, but Bellatrix had crossed a line that ought not to have been crossed, passing from simple illness to full blown psychosis, to harm her own extended family for some madman with power and darkness.

Once more the great sword, the one carried by all the Kings of Númenor,flashed like lightning through the air, and Bellatrix crumpled at last, her head rolling from the rest mid incantation.

Faykan looked on sadly, while Harry turned to watch the battle around them. "It is finished," he said slowly, and Draco felt the exhaustion of the entire year swarm over him at last. Their foes were slain, and sooner than they had hoped the forces of darkness would be routed by the armies of the Light.

"Will peace return?" he asked simply, wondering for a moment why he still sounded like a little child in asking.

"In time," Faykan said, even as time slowly returned to normal around them, "the road is long yet, but this is the first, great step."

Draco nodded, accepting that answer. Turning from the battle, Draco made his way slowly to his friends, ready for a long rest from the troubles of war, and death, and pain.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

From the moment Bellatrix fell and the eagles of Valinor arrived, the battle turned once again, for the last time. The moral of the light swelled to the brightness of a sun at noonday, and with cries of freedom and glory to the Valar, the rallied forces of the West drove their enemies before them, capturing them in a great pincer so that none remained to take tidings out from the hills of Scotland even as the sun began to rise in the east.

Despite the great damage and pain that had taken place at the Great Battle of Hogwarts, it was not quite yet the end of fighting. The Forces of Light, bolstered by the defeat of their great foe, surged onward to retake all the lands that had been blighted by Sauron's evil, including the Ministry, Diagon, all the way out to the lands of France and Germany where his creatures had so terrified and desolated the land in their march to war.

Without their tyrannical leader, the forces of evil had no chance, being smitten and destroyed wherever they were discovered, and within only a few months from the second battle of Hogwarts the land was free from their taint once again.

But there was one last thing to deal with, which Harry held onto by a thin chain, unwilling to even touch the evil item dangling from the very end. One of the Nine Rings of power, the one born by the Witch-King in life, which had allowed the Dark Lord Sauron to possess Voldemort when the man's Horcruxes had at last been destroyed.

There was only one thing to do with such an object. If Sauron was to be defeated for all time, never to possibly return to Arda before the end, it must be destroyed. Together, he with Faykan, Ron, Draco, and Hermione traveled once more into the dark land of Mordor, to the very mountain of fire, and stood over the precipice where the river of lava bubbled and churned in the volcanic core.

They had all agreed that, due to the prophecy, it was Harry's right alone to destroy this final Horcrux. Smiling sheepishly at their support, the green-robed boy turned to face the fire, and with all the skill of the Quidditch player that he was, hurled the chain and its evil cargo over the side. They watched as the lava seemed to leap up to catch the cursed ring, embracing it in its heat until the vile object melted away with a dull scream, and the all released a collective sigh of relief.

It was finally and truly over. The power of Sauron was forever broken at last.

Once peace had at last been restored to the Wizarding world, both within and without the British Isle, a great reconstruction commenced. Led by Draco and Blaise Zabini, wielding their great family fortunes, (Draco having learned that not only had he not been truly disowned from the Malfoy family, and had access to their vaults, but also having great sums of gold from the vaults of the King stored away in the very bottom of Gringotts,) countless families donated to rebuild homes and businesses, helping the poor back onto their feet and contributing vast sums to Ministry programs to aid in the relief effort for the destitute that had been harmed so much by the war.

Harry and Faykan helped as well, but less so in actual labor and more in monetary contribution. They had a work all their own to see to, including the managing of the newly reorganized White Council, which had all but demanded that the pair be at the body's head, helping to lead the world, human and magical creature, into a new age.

The fall of Voldemort, and through him the banishment of Sauron the Deceiver for what all hoped was the last time, marked the beginning of a brand new age of the earth, one in which magical nations around the globe were starting to come together and remember from where their roots had come.

One impressive thing that Draco had specifically requested was the creation of Wizarding Britain's first museum, and had requesting all the treasures of the War of the Ring that Faykan had hoarded over the long centuries to be displayed.

"Never again should we forget the long, hard road that our people had walked, nor the trials we have faced," he told the assembled crowd for the building's grand opening. Somehow the crafty blond pureblood had managed to purchase a great deal of land at the opposite end of Diagon Alley from Gringotts Bank, which added a bookend of sorts to the wizarding marketplace.

Inside, along with the many relics and artifacts from days long forgotten, all assembled, dated and detailed by Faykan and Harry themselves, were things throughout all the ages of the world leading up to the War with Voldemort. Hermione was pleased to see that this display proudly showed the madman's name, specifically stating that fear of a name only increased fear of the thing itself.

Hopefully Wizarding Britain would bring generations of children here from now on, and actually learn from their past instead of being doomed to repeat it time and again.

But not all the immediate aftermaths of the war were happy ones. Many families had been torn apart, and so many were slain in the battles and tortures that a great day of remembrance was had throughout the magical world.

Often, the five heroes would take the time to visit the graveyard of Godric's Hollow, to see the graves of Lily and James Potter, Sirius Black, and Severus Snape, who was buried right next to his beloved Lily. The smaller stone that marked the Potion Master's final resting place was white, and gleamed in all seasons and times, proudly displaying its message for all to read.

'Severus Tobias Snape

Born January 9, 1960

Died May 2, 1998

Always'

The message was chosen by Faykan, who had know the Head of Slytherin the longest, and knew best out of all of them that the man's loyalty had been and forever was to Lily Evans Potter, throughout all his deeds, good and ill, it was her influence that guided him. Hermione distinctly remembered Harry mentioned once that Severus was the bravest man that he had ever known.

As the years past, and the group of heroes grew into their selected professions, they all made absolutely sure to remain close to each other, even if some of the time they only communicated via owls for months on end. Draco entered politics, naturally, and with his titles as Sgiathatch Telcontar he ended up making quite the name for himself.

Draco and Ginny were married only a few years after the end of the war, and it was a purely magical setting, with Faykan presiding as the closest being to the Valar they had among them. Despite many arguments, and even several threats, the Istari managed to force Draco to wear his ceremonial King's attire, stating that the wedding of a king, even if he was not actively ruling, was terribly important, and all manner of people would be there watching.

Although it was ever within his right to call into effect the kingship of old and assume a throne long forgotten, Draco never did, stating that the time of Kings had passed, and that the peoples of the earth needed to learn to rule themselves, but he would remain as long as he was able to guide them, and his family afterward. Perhaps, in time, a king would again be needed, but Draco was more than content to just be himself.

Nevertheless, he was powerless to escape the demands of the people, and Wizarding Britain forced him to at the least accept his crown, as a political figurehead, even if he chose to relinquish all power to the Ministry, much like the British muggle counterparts did. Begrudgingly, Draco had accepted the terms, and would be crowned on the same day as his wedding, despite many complaints regarding that tidbit of fact.

It was a lovely ceremony anyway, filled with many symbols of peace and triumph from those who had been part of the war. Hermione sat close to the front, holding hands with Ron, whom she had married only months before, and Harry, clad in his green robes and his emerald and white staff leaning against one shoulder.

As Draco and Ginny said their vows to each other, Faykan wove powerful magic around them, blessing them with prosperity and protection so long as they were faithful to each other, but Hermione also suspected a bit of the spellwork was for show to the crowd. Faykan had always been a bit of a showoff.

As the couple was presented, Faykan produced the Crown of the High King of Gondor, and regally place it upon Draco, along with a smaller tiara upon Ginny's heads, "Behold," he said regally, "now come the days of the King! May they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!"

The crowd applauded, and many from the back cheered and whistled. As the Bride and Groom began their precession however, the crowd fell silent, until only one voice could be heard. Hermione couldn't see until the pair grew close that it was Draco himself singing, the gentle words of the isle of Númenor seeming to flow off his tongue, "Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien Sinome Maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-Metta."

As Draco and Ginny passed Hermione, Ron, and Harry, a flight of gulls soared overhead, calling loudly the cries of the sea, and Hermione paused from the peaceful scene as she noticed Harry stiffen, tilting his head to sadly look up at the gulls, but before she could question him, he had gone to stand with Faykan at the rear of the precession.

It was a serene time, those peaceful years after the fall of Sauron. The Dwarves and Goblins forged an alliance stronger than any that had been seen in centuries, and a great amount of wealth was taken from the deepest parts of the mountains, yet it was not hoarded, as either race would have in times past, but given freely, to where eventually all had riches to spare, used in wisdom and prudence for the betterment of the world.

In time, Harry was called upon to become the new Headmaster of Hogwarts, after the aging Professor McGonagall finally retired. The first thing he did in his new calling was to instate Faykan as the History of Magic Professor, finally breaking the spell that Binn's cast over all students that walked through those halls, and giving the history of the world as it truly was, not some image set up in the last two centuries.

Harry, as Headmaster, took upon himself the position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and together the pair of Istari reinstated the Dueling Club, finally giving students the rounded education that they deserved. Later on, Neville became a Master in Herbology, and was also accepted into the school to teach, which made going back to Hogwarts a wonderful reunion for them all when they had the time.

Not that it was all sunshine and roses, as there was still a great amount of resentment between those of pureblood decent and those just entering their world for the first time. Several lesser dark wizards emerged over the next century, aspiring Dark Lords in their own minds, each rallying a small following from among the poorer classes, and tried to ravage over the land. And each time, Harry and Faykan would arrive, light and power of the West in their eyes, and destroyed their uprisings utterly until the followers of darkness surrendered and allowed themselves to be taken to face trial and justice.

Not that any needed to fear the horrors of Azkaban any longer. The Ministry finally woke up about the Dementor's allegiance when the creatures abandoned them for Voldemort, and luckily were destroyed when the Witch-King fell at Hogwarts. Now they supplied a full guard staff of Aurors to patrol the prison, making absolutely sure that not only were the prisoners actually there, but that they were humanely kept away from the rest of society.

But even with all the good that seemed to be going on around them, with classes, day to day business, and other things to preoccupy them, Hermione noticed time and again when they visited Hogwarts that both Harry and Faykan seemed greatly distracted from the world around them, as if they were thinking ahead to a distant time and place.

She had tried asking about it once or twice, but both times she received the same response: "Don't worry about it, Hermione. Some things will come to pass when they are meant to…"

But worry she did, wondering for weeks and months as to what they could possibly have meant by those words. Was the pair of them waiting for some event to occur, some new darkness to arise perhaps? Or could it be something more? It was so confusing, but Ron kept her from becoming too far consumed with the mystery.

For a time, she had been heavily on her own day to day, while Ron went through the Auror Academy, having been granted special permission after his involvement in the destruction of Voldemort forces during the war, and while he had some small issues with the stealth portion of the final assessment, he still managed to pass. While the work had been plentiful, Ron didn't feel terribly comfortably in the Ministry, and quite soon he decided to quit from the Aurors and look for more meaningful work.

That was when Draco came forward with an offer. As the effective head of a multimillion-galleon estate, with businesses and other investments that needed managing and security, he needed someone with the right skills to make sure that every knut was accounted for and used wisely, as well to make sure that his workers were protected.

He wanted to hire both Hermione and Ron to fulfill these roles, and the pair was more than happy to have meaningful work that paid well in addition. Ron spent much of his working time close to Draco, making sure that security was as tight as possible, while Hermione happily worked from the background, making everything from Draco's schedule to the payroll ran as smoothly as conceivably possible.

Things progressed like this for several years, until Faykan approached Hermione with an unusual request. Producing the Red Book of Westmarch from his cloak, he offered the tome to her. "Like Bilbo, Frodo, and Samwise before us, our story needs to be recorded alongside their tales, to make sure that some record remains for the generations of the far-flung future when we are all but forgotten."

"But," Hermione said, confused and frightened, "how could they forget? The war, Voldemort, it's all recorded already in the Wizarding museum."

Faykan just sadly shook his head, "So long with us and yet you've still so far to go in your learning Mrs. Weasley," he chided kindly, "Magic cannot endure. Even as the elves departed into the West ages ago, so magic will flee from the world in time. Decades, centuries, millennia from now and who will remain that could find our museum, let alone understand the history of it?"

"So you're saying magic is dying…" Hermione asked fearfully.

"Not immediately," Faykan consoled, "but in time, it will die out, have you not noticed that there are easily five muggleborns to every pureblood left. Like the slow progress of time, it is inevitable. And we need to make preparations for when it happens. The Red Book of Westmarch is the best bet for history to survive beyond us. The book is enchanted to never age, and no damage can come to it."

Hermione nodded solemnly, opening the book to see how many pages were left to her, but the book was completely filled. "But there's no room left…" she sighed wearily.

"Hermione… are you a witch or not?" Faykan teased gently.

She laughed, before taking her wand and conjuring new pages into the back of the book, marveling as the covers expanded to accommodate the increased size. Flipping gently through to the front cover page, Hermione saw the intricate writing that she had read so long ago, written in the very different Westron of the old world.

'There and Back Again, a Hobbit's Tale by Bilbo Baggins,' directly followed by another line, clearly written by a second hand, 'The Downfall of the Lord of the Rings, and the Return of the King, by Frodo Baggins,' and last, toward the middle of the book, a shakier hand had a final title, 'The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, by Samwise Gamgee.'

Three impressive figures of the tale of the rise and fall of Sauron, and Hermione immediately started trying to figure out a title for their adventure that could stand alongside those of these three hobbits. It was a daunting challenge, and something she would cherish to work on for several decades at the least, much of it spent in pulling information out of her friends so that it was as accurate as possible.

When she had managed to finish, Hermione gleefully showed the others her version of the tale, and each nodded their approval that it was a perfect depiction of their adventure. All that was left was a title, and Hermione had dawdled on picking one throughout the entire work of her writing, until now she stared once more at the title page, quill hovering over her ink bottle as she strained her mind to adequately sum up their entire adventure into a single phrase.

Then, with a stroke of brilliance, she set the quill to the page, and taking great care to make every letter even, she added, 'The Age of Magic, and the End of the Rings, by Hermione Weasley,' just below the title set by Samwise.

The last part was a bit of a surprise even to her, as she had intended it to refer to the final destruction of the last ring of power that had been made for men, but from what was written she realized that two of the three Elven Rings were still on earth, upon the fingers of Faykan and Harry.

Still, they had both well agreed that it was a fitting title, and persuaded her to not change it. Hermione often was called upon in the following decades to read the story at birthdays and other events, especially by their group's collective children. Hugo and Rose, Hermione and Ron's son and daughter, along with Ginny and Draco's only child for the moment, Scorpius Elessar Telcontar, were ever enthralled by the stories of the Red Book, and would gather around Hermione knees with wide eyes as she read of the adventures, especially when they learned that everything in the book was true history and not just make believe.

It was the most wonderful time Hermione could ever remember, and nearly a century passed, them all enjoying the long lifetime that came with their magic, relishing their family and extended families as they respectively grew. If anything, the grandchildren were even better than their children, and the once tiny groups that attended Hermione's readings then swelled to over a few dozen.

But throughout all the time, Hermione was still drawn back to the radical changes that had occurred to Harry and Faykan at the end of the war. Over a hundred years and the pair seemed to have aged nearly three times that. Faykan was looking more like his old counterpart Lord Zemar of Germany, while Harry was turning into quite the Dumbledore-esk figure, albeit with a massive motif for green instead of wild, random colors and attention-seeking garishness.

But what were most disturbing were their eyes. Not that they lost their radiance or changed color in any way, but they seemed so very distant now, almost lost in their own world. It pained Hermione to think that her two friends were slipping away because of something unknown, but she didn't know what she could do.

Understanding finally started to come when, on the hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the end of the battle with Sauron, a gull arrived with a message for Hermione and Ron, who were now living alone in the Burrow. Gazing at the message transfixed in her home, so radically changed from when Molly and Author had been alive, Hermione felt her heart sink in sadness.

'It is time for me to depart from the world at long last, my friends. I would not vanish from your midst like a thief in the night; however, and would be overjoyed for you all to come attend my sending off at the Grey Havens. This message will act as a Portkey at sunrise, three days from now. Until then, my old friends, F.'

Knowing what the words meant didn't soften the blow at all. Hermione had read the Red Book often enough to know how the story had ended, with Bilbo, Frodo, Gandalf and the other bearers of the Three Rings departing over the sea to the mystical Valinor, never to be seen again, and now Faykan was joining them in that realm.

It made logical sense, as that was indeed where Faykan belonged, and Hermione supposed she knew in her heart that the Istari that had become one of her closest friends would leave them someday, but she had greatly hoped that it would be after her lifetime, and that this pain would not have come.

Ron didn't fare any better with the news. Solemnly gazing out across the vast gardens that he had had planted in memory of his parents, the red haired man remained silent, although Hermione could see the tears threatening to spill down his face.

"I didn't think he would ever leave…" Ron said after a moment of collecting himself, "but it was a stupid thought, really. I mean, he doesn't really belong here, does he? Faykan ought to be able to go home; after all we've been through with him, but still…"

"It's hard to let go once you care," Hermione surmised, taking her husband's hand in her own, and Ron nodded. "We're going…" he said finally, "I know Draco will be there as well, perhaps with Ginny and their family in tow, but who do we bring?" he asked.

Hermione pondered that. While Faykan had been an ever present part of their families, she wasn't sure if this truly was a scene meant for the others. "I think it ought to be just us," she said after a moment, "after all, we're the only ones, alongside Draco and Harry, who really know who he is, and where he is going. The kids would understand the words, but I'm not sure if they fully believe that the stories are real…"

"I agree completely," Ron said, leaning down to kiss her. "This is why I married you; you always have the right ideas…"

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Harry stood in the most beautiful place he had ever laid eyes on before, waiting for his and Fay's friends to arrive. It was the appointed day, and here he was, at the Grey Havens, to see Faykan off on his voyage across the sea into the lands of Valinor. But there may be more than just seeing Faykan leave, as the now very-old-man-who-lived thought.

Much had happened during the war, but the crowning event, aside from their actual victory of course, was the moment when Harry himself saw the white lands for the first time, and made a choice to fight against darkness for all time with the aid of the Valar. He understood much of what transpired now, and how it had come to pass.

Faykan had gifted him with part of his magic, long ago when he was merely an infant who had just survived the killing curse. Originally Faykan believed that it was to purge the taint of Voldemort's magic from the baby's body, but the effect was far more than merely that. As the Horcrux was far too powerful for him to rid so easily, what instead happened was that the Istari's magic started to purify the rest of Harry's own magic, fundamentally changing him, like when powder is spread into water, and mixes in so finely that you cannot tell them apart.

Harry changed into an Istari, or began to that day. And with that change came great power and duties, hence Faykan's watch over the young Harry during their years at Hogwarts. And what he had learned had clearly so impressed the Valar, that they decided to do something that had never before been done. Instead of leaving Harry to his own devices, allowing him to merely believe him to be some powerful wizard, like Voldemort or Dumbledore, they contacted him via Galadriel, and gave him the choice to come fully into the heritage he had been gifted, knowing that Harry's pure heart would say yes.

What Faykan had told him all those years ago had also been true, that the Valar were seeking to restore the fifth member of the Istari, and many had had potential, but were never approached because of their own human failings.

But after the war, things started to change far more drastically. He seemed to age far quicker than his friends, along with Faykan, becoming a seeming old man within fifty years, easily appearing well over one hundred. Then there came the gulls at Draco's wedding. Once Harry heard those baleful cries, a deep abiding sadness had filled his heart, making him wish for a land that he had never before set foot upon.

From his research he learned that it was called the sea-calling, an ailment that the elves of old had had when their time to depart Arda had come. For a time Harry had resisted, taking the position at Hogwarts and striving to lead a nearly normal life. But through trials and new villains that couldn't hold a candle to the threat of Voldemort or Sauron, Harry soon learned that he indeed was no longer needed in the world, and that filled him with a greater sadness.

That was when Faykan had approached him, one day in the summer of his twentieth year as Headmaster of Hogwarts. His closest friend then informed him that someday soon a ship would return out of the West to take him home, and that, as an Istari, Harry had the choice to come with him into the Undying Lands, or remain here in Middle Earth.

At the time, Harry hadn't even considered that leaving was an option. He had almost fallen into deep depression at the thought that he, like Fay had described long before, would simply persist as those dear to him grew old, moved on with their lives, and inevitably died. When Arthur and Molly had passed away, surrounded by family and a great host of friends, that thought had struck him hard.

But now, a chance to depart from the world, go to a place where fear and pain were mere memories of old ills. It had taken until this moment for Harry to make up his mind, and as he watched his friends walk slowly through the archway into the ruins of the elven harbor, he knew it was the right choice.

Hermione, Ron, and Draco all seemed sad at the event they were coming to attend, but it was a peaceful type of sadness, not bitter or angry. Even Hermione, who had been affected by their great age the worst of them all, smiled as Harry approached her.

Hugging her gently, (They were all approaching two hundred after all,) she said, "Still young and spry as ever I see, Harry…"

He smiled, knowing that they all understood, in part, why he still seemed so youthful in comparison to them now. While he had advanced in age rapidly, once there, his body had nearly frozen from change, and he felt as strong as he had in his forties as he did now.

Turning toward the water, he pointed down to where Faykan was waiting with the Six Sleepers, staring off into the sea. "Shall we go?" he asked, and the others agreed. As they approached, a marvelous thing occurred. Out of the far horizon, a ship appeared, gleaming white with the reflected rays of the sun.

"Is that?" Ron asked, only to be answered by Hermione. "It is. A white ship of Valinor."

The curved, swan head of the ship bobbed gently in the surf as the ship pulled up to the harbor, never so much as knocking the side. With a wave of his hand, Faykan shifted a gangplank into position across the water, and the Six elves boarded, smiling as they set foot on the deck of the ship, and disappearing out of sight. Harry was about to turn and face the others, tell them of his decision, when a gasp from Hermione turned him back about.

Three figures appeared on the main deck of the ship, clad in flowing robes exactly like Harry's and Faykan's, except in a pale sky blue, a deep earthy brown, and a radiant white. Faykan bowed to the three, who walked all the way to the very edge of the gangplank, but did not set foot on the harbor.

"Mithrandir," Faykan said, addressing the one clad in white.

"Alatar, old friend," the white wizard said, a twinkling in his eyes that reminded Harry so strongly of Dumbledore.

Faykan removed from his belt the sword Glamdring, and handed it over to the leader of the Istari, "It is time that I returned this to you, it has been a most useful gift in all my dangers, but it need not see any more battle till the end of time." Faykan said solemnly.

Gandalf the White accepted the blade, moving back along the plank to make room for the next Istari, Radagast the Brown. Pulling Dumbledore's wand from his robes, Faykan handed the item over to the wizard, "I apologize for the condition it is in," Faykan said sadly, as Radagast returned the wand to its size as his staff, "it was mishandled through the ages…"

"So much pain and death has this seen," Radagast said sadly, stroking the staff lightly, "It is time for this to return home and be purified in the waters of the Undying Lands, so we may forget all this evil."

Finally, the light blue wizard approached, and Faykan turned to Harry, holding out one hand. Knowing what was wanted; Harry produced his family's invisibility cloak, passing it to Faykan who then gave it to Pallando, the Cyan. The other wizard smiled as he looked at the cloak. Turning to Harry, he said, "Your family has treated my gift well. I am glad."

Harry bowed slightly to the powerful Istari, and Hermione nudged him in the ribs. "What," he said quietly, as Faykan and Pallando started to talk together.

"It's Merlin." Hermione whispered excitedly, "Pallando the Blue is Merlin!" Harry looked again at the Istari, raising his eyebrows as he saw the perfect resemblance to the fabled wizard.

"So he is…" Harry said, smiling. Pallando at last returned to the other two Istari on the main part of the ship, and Faykan at last turned to face them all, a worn smile on his face, which was shining with the joy of reuniting with his oldest friends.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Alatar the Azure, or Faykan Undol to those who stood before him now, gazed at the scene of sadness before him. Hermione, Ron, and Draco, all brave warriors, stood with tears ready to fall from their faces. There was little to do about softening the truth of the matter.

"Well… farewell, my dearest friends," he said simply, almost shrugging at the lightness of the statement. "Here, at last, on the shores of the sea, is the end of our fellowship in this world."

Clearly it was not helping, as they all looked far more miserable at his words, so he attempted something in Quenya instead. The words of the elves always were easier on the listener,"Á lelya séressë! Lá equen: áva nainuvalyë; an lá ilyë níreli nar úmiéo."

Turning toward the ship, Alatar took a single step, before the gazes of his fellow Istari halted him. Sighing tiredly, he turned back. He had struggled with the last piece of information that he had shared with Harry about his departure.

"It is time Calenrohtar," he said solemnly, knowing the stir that his words would cause before he spoke them. All three of the others turned as one to gaze confused at the green Istari.

"What does he mean, Harry?" Hermione asked, and Alatar smiled, having hundreds of thousands of memories flood his mind of her inquisitiveness.

"We set out, unknowingly at first, to save the Wizarding World," Harry answered, "and it has been saved. But in the process, my place in it has run its course."

Understanding was slow to dawn upon the others, but the years had given them much wisdom, and they grew silent as the realized the plight of both Harry and Alatar himself, and why they must leave Middle Earth.

"I see…" Hermione said after a few moments, while the others began nodding soon after.

Hugs were exchanged, words spoken of remembrance and heartfelt convictions, but to all of these Alatar remained aloof. He was, for once in a long time, quite unsure how best to handle the concept of he himself departing instead of losing his friends.

"Fay…" the call turned him back. Ron, Draco and Hermione were all waiting, smiling at him, "You didn't think we were just going to let you leave without a proper goodbye did you?" Despite their nearby two hundred years of life, all three moved with incredible speed to encircle the Azure Istari in a group hug.

But, all too soon, it was time for the departure, and both Alatar and Harry stepped onto the gangplank of the White Ship. The very moment that he set foot on the ship itself, Alatar felt a great weight lifted from his shoulders, and looking at Harry, he could see the same in the other Istari's face.

Olórin stood there, smiling as Alatar approached him. "Well done," was all the White Wizard needed to say. Alatar bowed slightly, acknowledging the praise and the welcome once more into the midst of the wise.

Turning back to face the shore, Alatar saw Harry at the edge of the ship, smiling at his friends as they waved. The ship began to pull out to sea, and Alatar joined Harry at the ship's edge. There were tears freely flowing on all three faces that watched them, but joy was evident on their faces.

Raising a hand, Alatar began to sing one final time for them to hear, the language of Valinor echoing across the water as the land he had worked so hard to protect started to slip away. Harry watched him, and blankly Alatar realized that this would be the first time that his closest friend could understand the words he had sang so often to him in times of trial.

"Lay down, your sweet and weary head. Night is falling; you have come to journey's end. Sleep now, and dream of ones who came before. They are calling, from across the distant shore.

Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face? Soon you will see, All of your fears will pass away Safe in my arms, you're only sleeping.

What can you see, on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea, a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home. And all will turn to silver glass. A light on the water, all souls pass.

Hope fades, into the world of night, through shadows falling, out of memory and time.
Don't say, we have come now to the end. White shores are calling. You and I will meet again. And you'll be here in my arms, just sleeping.

What can you see, on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea, a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home. And all will turn to silver glass. A light on the water, Grey ships pass Into the West…"

Before long, Middle Earth was completely out of sight, and as Harry and Alatar turned to the opposite side of the ship, the white sand of the Undying Lands blossomed into view.

"Home at last…" Alatar said, relishing the peace that emanated from the land itself. After thousands of years, his work, and Harry's as well, was complete. And their reward loomed ahead.

"White shores, and beyond a far green country, under a swift sunrise…" Harry surmised aloud, smiling widely as they drew near.

The End

Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien Sinome Maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-Metta. : Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place I will abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.

Á lelya séressë! Lá equen: áva nainuvalyë; an lá ilyë níreli nar úmiéo : Go in peace! I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.

Final Thoughts: There is Nothing Left to Spoil.

And so it was, The first idea that came to my mind when contemplating writing my own fanfiction. Nothing as great or inspiring as that which came before, but I know now for a fact that writing this story changed my life. It sent me on a course that ended up shifting my major from computer science to English, and garnering a love for the written word in me that I hope will last a lifetime. I can say that I am now satisfied with this story, and where it has been left, and can finally, permanently, move on from it. As known from the poll I left, I am considering this same sort of revision to my SW/HP story, where I tried to dive into a far darker aspect of character building, and I hope that you will all go vote on that poll, and take a glance at that story when I start to post it as well. There will be a lull before I get started on posting that one, as I am working slowly through it to correct places where I know the writing was weak, as it started back when I was in Book 5 of the original version of Age of Magic, when I had little to no academic prowess behind my writing, just pure passion and a lack of engaging activity to prevent me from writing to my heart's content. Thank you all for reading, and please, leave a review! Until we meet again! ~F