After his death in the wizarding world, Harry Potter is reborn by Eywa's will into a true Na'vi body-small and gentle, with green eyes like the forest and long, curly brown hair reminiscent of the ocean clans. Alone in the jungle, Harry, now Hadrian lives quietly, healing slowly from a lifetime of trauma-flinching at raised voices and hesitant with touch. But when Neytiri finds him, everything changes. Adopted into the Sully family, he becomes the second youngest sibling, some years below Lo'ak. The family is overprotective, but warm and full of love. Hadrian carries a power he doesn't understand-he can heal, and when the time comes, it will save a life. As the Metkayina come into their lives, so does even more family... and more protectors. But Eywa's chosen child isn't meant to live in hiding forever.

Hadrian shook his head slowly. "No," he lied. He wasn't sure why he withheld the truth, but something told him to keep his past life a secret for now. "I just... woke up here." Elrond and Glorfindel exchanged a glance, silent words passing between them. "You are unlike any child we have seen before," Elrond finally said. "Your presence is... different. But there is no darkness in you. That alone is enough for us to offer you sanctuary." Hadrian exhaled, some of the tension in his body easing. Safe. He had never truly been safe before. The idea felt foreign, but not unwelcome. It was then that he finally noticed his reflection in the polished silver mirror across the room. He inhaled sharply. An elfling stared back at him. His body was smaller, more delicate, yet not frail. His ears tapered into elegant points, peeking through his unruly dark hair, which cascaded down to his shoulders in soft waves. His eyes were still the same vivid green, but they held a strange, ethereal glow, as if infused with the very magic of this world. A child again. A proper child, not the underfed, scrappy boy who had spent his youth locked away in a cupboard. Hadrian raised a trembling hand to his face, his fingers tracing over smooth skin, unblemished by scars of war and hardship. He had truly been reborn. -Takes place during The Hobbit-

Loki did not know what fate awaited him in this strange new world. He did not know if he was meant to remain, or if destiny would one day reclaim him. But for now, he was warm. He was safe. And perhaps, just perhaps, he was not alone. For now, that was enough. --- - Set after the events of the hobbit -