I don't own Tolkien or Harry Potter.

I said I'd try to get this out this month so HAH!

Been a while since this was updated, but blame the poll, not me. The next chapter of Magic of the Force will be posted in a few hours - I am hoping my new beta for it can get it back to me tonight, but if not, I will still post the chapter with a warning.

This has been betaed by ultimaflare0.

Chapter 2: A Wizard's Meeting

Gandalf the Grey looked up, his beard twitching as a thoughtful frown appeared in his face before he sipped at a mug of ale. He'd come to the Prancing Pony to drop off a message for a friend, or rather the messenger of a friend, since Gandalf had no idea where said friend actually was at this present moment in time. While wizards were said to be all-knowing, their all-knowing act usually was based on a lot of footwork, some knowledge of those parts of Middle Earth that most individuals could not see or sense, and a certain level of intelligence. In this case, while he had quite a bit of knowledge about the individual, none of it pertained to his physical location at this point in time.

Sipping thoughtfully at his ale, he finished writing the message before sending a compliment to the owner of the Prancing Pony a Dexter Butterbur, whose young grandson had just begun working with him, something the man was rightly proud of. He then retired to his room, with another even larger stein of ale for himself having had his fill of people, noise and chatter for a time.

What his senses as one of the Maiar were telling him needed some thought. Despite the fact he looked like a disreputable vagabond to some, and to others who could see past first impressions a valuable and learned advisor, he was greater even than that. He was clothed in the form of a man true, but still had the senses that had marked him as one of the Maiar, a being of power created by Illuvatar himself before the Music of the Ainur. And what they were telling him was… confusing.

There had been a change to the feeling of the magic of Middle Earth. At first it hadn't been very noticeable, like a gong in the distance, or a crashing wave hundreds of miles away, making a very profound sound but one you'd have to strain to hear from where you were. Since then, there had been a few more instances, each of which were far, far smaller, mere shimmering changes of color to the general magic, subtle but noticeable to any of the brethren who were nearby.

Not that Gandalf thought that he actually was very near. From how faint it was, it could be anywhere in an area of seven or eight days journey in any direction, Gandalf couldn't localize and more than that, which was irritating.

I wonder if Radagast has gotten into the bad moss again…

Yet as the night wore on and those shiverings of magic continued, Gandalf realized it could not be any of his brethren. Only himself or Saruman, the greatest of their order could draw upon magic for that long. And someone definitely was, using and directing magic in a way that only the Maiar or Valar could do. Elves of course had magic, and some of them could do things with it that even the Maiar would have trouble doing, but their ability to craft magic into spell form was somewhat limited, with only a very few being able to surpass those limitation. Gandalf knew all such intimately, and would have known the touch of their minds, and indeed ridden to aid them, immediately if it had been any such.

If only I could localize it further! If I could recognize a single spell being used, I think that one there, it is something to do with concealment? But of course it actually does what it is supposed to, concealing not only the user from physical senses but from my own magical senses at this long a distance. If I could only recognize a single spell, I could use the flavor of it to track this individual down.

It was something like being a watcher on a tower with a spyglass trying to see over the horizon. The sunlight or as in this case the darkness worked against you, and you couldn't see details even if you could somehow figure out there was something out there. "Botheration," he muttered aloud, lighting his pipe with a finger and putting his feet up as he puffed thoughtfully on the pipe.

Eventually the pulses of magic ended, not abruptly, simply petering out. That was good, that seemed to indicate at least that the magic user in question hadn't died in the combat, which may or may not be good in the long term. And it was not Saruman, the feel of the magic told Gandalf that, nor was it Elrond or Galadriel (though the idea of the Lady of the Woods leaving said woods was somewhat laughable) or any other elfin spellcrafter. Nor was there any kind of… taint to the magic, so it was not some unknown or hidden remnant of the great darkness.

This meant it was someone entirely new to Gandalf using magic. That was an astonishing and rather worrisome thought. But again from the feel of it Gandalf couldn't tell if the being was good, evil, or anything else.

He couldn't even figure out the direction! it was as if his own senses were somehow being obscured. And he wondered why. Or perhaps not so much obscured as occluded by a greater rippling?

Gandalf frowned, putting down his pipe and staring off into the distance, his eyes glowing momentarily as he seemed to almost toss off the raiment of the vagabond wanderer as that thought occurred to him. But he couldn't do so entirely, his purpose in Middle Earth did not allow for that, and his raiment was too permanent fixture of him at present for Gandalf to cast off for over-long. After a moment his eyes faded back, the gray of his raiment settling fully once more onto him, changing him again into the somewhat normal if eccentric gray-haired old man he always looked.

If I want answers to that question, I must go to the sea, and speak to Lord Ulmo himself, get him to at least carry a message to the others if he himself does not know what has gone on. Odd. The impression he had gotten in that one brief moment was a 'wait and see' feeling sent to him from Irmo and Manwe himself. And after a moment's contemplation Gandalf decided to agree to do just that.

Not willingly of course, but Gandalf did have other demands on his time at present. If I didn't have this meeting with Thorin and his band and finding them a thief to go on an adventure with, I might very well hunt down the feeling, the idea of waiting and seeing what happens or no. Still, I do and that is that. Even the wisest cannot be in two places at once.

Sighing he wondered what his lady and the others were up to, or if they knew themselves. Surprise after all could work in your favor or against you depending. Gandalf went to bed that night, then left be in early in the morning after tipping the owner of the establishment heavily, the better to leave and make a good impression on him and his family. Before heading towards the Shire at his normal, seemingly leisurely but ground devouring pace.

OOOOOOO

Harry and Thorin stalked through the woods following the directions of their goblin prisoner until they found a trail showing where another group of goblins had passed. From there they tried to back track that group to their den, trusting to that rather than the orc's directions. This wasn't something either of them were actually very good at, Thorin had some woodcraft, able to spot the trail itself, but that was all. But then again this group of orcs didn't seem to care to cover their tracks.

They were concealed under one of Harry's spells as they moved of course. While Harry had taken to heart Thorin's statement about being too profligate with his magic he wasn't about to stop using it when the situation required it.

They moved through the woods silently for the most part, gesturing this way or that when one spotted something they needed to see, content with their own thoughts and the hunt for now. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence as should've been supposed between two people who hadn't known one another for more than a few days, thrown together on what many would consider a ridiculously foolish quest.

But it wasn't, rather it was the silence of grim purpose. Thorin was consumed with his hate of the orcs and worry about this Azog creature while Harry's mind continued to flash back to the little belt of skulls, fueling his own anger. He thought he had known evil before, but the orcs represented an evil greater than any he had met in his own world.

Tommy would've probably loved them, that tells you all you need to know. That thought brought a wintry little smile to Harry's face as he glanced down at the scars on his hands and forearms for brief moment, waiting for Thorin to find the trail again. The battle in the Ministry and what had happened to Hermione was a wound that had yet to scab over let alone heal like his physical wounds and he found himself eager for a fight, if only so he could once more push those memories away for a time.

Thorin turned to him, gesturing Harry to look over his shoulder, his words a whisper. Their movements might be covered by Harry's spell, but that didn't mean he was going to get complacent. "Look at this," he said gesturing down. "They broke off here from a larger band."

"Is the other group an attack force? Could they be attacking some settlement nearby?" Harry asked quickly.

"I do not think so. I think this was two scout groups who broke off from one another after leaving their camp. The other has headed straight south from here, though how long they would keep to that course I do not know. And judging by the number of tracks I do not think their numbers would be enough to attack any of the settlements around here."

Looking around Thorin noted other signs of recent movement through the woods further along the trail and nodded grimly. "We are close. The spells on us, they are not draining you?" He asked, his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Harry.

Harry shook his head. "No, if I had to keep them up for days on end maybe, but not for a single night's work."

"And how much activity will they cover?"

"It can't cover us attacking them for more than a few seconds if that's what you're thinking. It'll bring too much notice to us for the spell to redirect."

"Pity," Thorin muttered shaking his head. "You'll have to start using attack spells in there then. I think we're going to be very heavily outnumbered."

Harry smirked, and nodded, noting that Thorin didn't even mention the idea of retreating. Thorin's anger, his rage at the orcs was an almost but not quite visible thing around him, a sense unseen, and Harry wondered about it. Then again, if these were Death Eaters and they had massacred people and taken trophies like that would I be any different?

The answer to that one was simple, and the two of them continued on their way, with Harry readying his sword in one hand, and clicking his fingers quietly in the other, readying a several dozen spells in his mind. Transfiguration first I think, create chaos in the battlefield, little things then bigger things, then attack spells. Confusion chaos, and we ride the whirlwind.

The orcs were hiding out in a series of interconnected bog caves, low hills in the terrain of the forest. It wasn't a very large seeming den. But it was large enough to conceal at least 100, possibly as many as 200 warriors, given how closely orcs could be packed into a space. Thorin whispered that to Harry, gesturing at the various entrances they saw and the guards hidden in the scrub brush here and there.

"Why weren't they in the trees?" Harry asked. "Surely a guard in a tree would have a better vantage point."

"Orcs and goblins do not climb trees Harry," Thorin said with a shrug. "I think the orcs shoulders can't seemingly reach above them like that, and goblins I believe are somewhat scared of heights. There might be more to it than that, but I have never known or heard tell of any of the dark races willingly climbing a tree."

"Weird, but all right. This is your show Thorin, what should we do?" Harry asked.

Thorin scratched at his full beard thoughtfully, frowning somewhat. "We take out those guards first, we'll start there." he said after a moment, pointing at one. "He is out of sight of the others, silence him and move on, take out all of the guards, then…" he looked up at Harry. "Can you somehow block up some of those entrances?"

"I can bring the entrances down," Harry said with a shrug. "A single Bombarda spell should do it. In fact I could bury them all in there."

"They would simply tunnel another way out, best to wipe out the whole nest. Collapse a few start a fire in another, get them running out into the open and hold the entrance against them. We do not want to fight orcs underground. Not in one of their own foul dens." Thorin shook his head.

Seeing Harry looking at him quizzically Thorin shrugged. "If you were a dwarf, the two of us fully armed, armored and with a dozen other dwarves beside us, perhaps we could attempt it. But fighting orcs and goblins underground is a losing proposition if you're not prepared for it, even among my race. And anyone your size Harry Potter or larger would have an even worse time of it."

Harry nodded then cracked his neck explosively, wriggling out his fingers. "Then let's get it stuck in with these motherfucker's."

Thorin's face blanked, and he nodded very slowly. "I appreciate the sentiment, however…" Before Harry could react, Thorin's fist thumped him in the stomach hard enough to smack the wind out of him, dumping Harry onto his knees gasping for air. "That curse is far too violent even for orcs among my people. Do not even think of using it in front of any dwarf ever again, is that clear?"

"Duly noted," Harry gasped, actually chuckling a little.. Dammit, dwarves are a lot stronger than they seem. If not for Thorin pulling the punch, it might've cracked ribs.

Thorin waited patiently until Harry stood up, and nodded at him before moving on. They dealt with each of the guards quickly, silencing them without the alarm being raised. After that, Thorin went about and gathered several dozen faggots of wood from nearby piles which had been partly hidden among the undergrowth, before piling them up in one of the entrances. Harry moved to another, and Thorin put flint to tender, lighting the wood.

Taking that as his signal Harry sent a Bombarda straight up at the top of the entrance, shattering the stone and earth there, before retreating quickly out of the tunnel as it collapsed. "Can you do something with wind Harry?" Thorin asked, gesturing to the fire.

"I'll try," Harry replied, frowning. He actually didn't know any spells that would control wind like that, but realized it would be really dangerous to try. Air might seemingly weigh nothing, but try to move it and you would soon realize that was not the case.

Frowning he pushed his hands forward, imagining what he wanted to do, and a small zephyr appeared between them then curled forward into the smoke from the fire, pushing it into the cavern. Harry could only keep it up for a few moments before he began to gasp, shaking his head and canceling the spell. "That, that took a lot out of me. I don't want to try that again."

Thorin nodded, making a note of that. it seemed as if material creation was actually easier than weather manipulation, odd but he wasn't a wizard so was not in position to question it. Reaching down he grabbed Harry by the upper arm and pulled him along to last entrance. "That was well done, the smoke will force them out."

When Harry looked at him in question once more Thorin chuckled. It was a not very nice sound. "Underground smoke like that is actually more dangerous than the fire itself. The fire won't spread, but the smoke will, and no living creature save a dragon can breathe in such fumes."

At that Harry finally understood, nodding. He stood up, throwing his shoulders back and readying the Sword of Gryffindor, his fingers once again twitching as he brought to mind the spells he had started to picture in his mind earlier. "Well then, I suppose we should get ready to receive our guests."

"HAH!" Thorin barked a laugh bringing up his own longsword, a heavy, ugly looking thing which wore its grim purpose in every inch of its gray steel. "Aye, I suppose we should."

It was a very panicked band of orcs and goblins that charged out of the cave, but these were after all orcs and goblins and it was the very rare goblin who was unharmed at any point. These came out armed yet. The first few charged to meet the two interlopers as soon as they saw them, Harry's spells having faded during all the activity they'd already done.

"Baruk Khazad, Tanar Durin Nur!" Thorin met them with a roar and a yell, his sword hacking at the first two, bowling an orc over entirely to smash into two goblins, before his sword flicked to either side, cutting two goblins down before bringing it back up to finish the fourth with a slice across the throat before it could get its feet under it.

Harry charged with him, his hand rising and sparking with magical energies. A second later several dozen small animals and a few larger ones appeared all around him, causing chaos. The small animals grabbed the orc's attention.

Even as they met that group however, other orcs had actually forged their way through the smoke now that Harry's wind was no longer pushing it into the tunnel, pushing the wood aside after drowning the fire with buckets of water from inside. Harry noticed this, and again conjured up more animals, this time bears and wolves, sending them with a mental command into the attacking group. That command wouldn't last for very long, but he'd chosen predators thinking that their forms would force them to act in the same way as the rabbits or others did when confronted with violence: by their instincts. It certainly worked that way in the books he'd read that spell in, a gift from Professor McGonagall in a vain attempt to regain some of Harry's respect.

That was all Harry had time to concentrate on before the fight around him took his full intention. One sword came at his head, and Harry barely got his own sword up in time, smacking the blow aside, though it was a powerful blow, almost enough to knock Harry to his knees. The orcs were strong, stronger than he had thought they were given the earlier encounter, and worse there seemed to be something in the air. It was either that, of moving the wind like I did took it out of me more than I thought, Harry thought to himself as he conjured up a shield to defend himself, which clanged and rattled from a few swords.

He killed six more goblins with well-placed Rifela spells, which didn't seem to take it out of him as much as the area effect conjuration spells currently were, which was good. Okay, so I can work with this…

"Kazad, Baruk Khazad!" Thorin was a short, hairy nightmare, bellowing and roaring, his long hair flying as he turned this way and that his sword seemingly light in his hands despite its heavy appearance. It cut and hack at his opponents, and Thorin used anything he could grab to hand as a shield at times, a cob of wood, a downed weapon, a shield from one of his opponents. A small hand axe which he had grabbed up and looked at for a split second as it came to his hand caused him to falter for a brief second, but then Thorin then tore into the orcs with even more ferocity.

"Thorin!" shouted Harry, blocking a blow to that would've split his head open from above, holding his sword locked there with both hands before he could throw the orc backwards slightly enough to fire a point blank Rifela to his chest, ending his life and the life of a goblin behind him. "We're in danger of being surrounded here!" He said, pointing towards where the fire had been put out and a dozen large orcs and about eight or nine smaller goblins had finished with his conjured animals. They were now moving towards them around the edge of the tunnel they were currently fighting in front of.

"Into the tunnel then! Just enough to get them to be unable to attack us from the sides! Back-to-back!" Thorin ordered, and roared forward shouting that battle cry of his again. The goblins quailed away from him, but the orcs were made of sterner stuff, and he cut down two of them as Harry dealt with a third.

Harry waited until the group trying to take them from behind had bunched up in the entrance way of the cavern, moving towards him and then fired a point blank "Bombarda!" spell into the middle of the group. It exploded, shattering all of the goblins and more than a few of the orcs, though several of the orcs survived the explosion, which wasn't as powerful as Harry had intended. He frowned at that, making a note of it for later. That he couldn't put down to being tired, Harry knew he had put in enough strength for that spell to be more powerful than that.

But then the orcs were all around them, and the two of attackers went back to back as Thorin had ordered. Thorin noticed out of the corner of his eye that Harry's swordwork needed a lot of work, and furthermore Harry was far too reckless. Though he seemed adept at dodging strikes of the last-minute Thorin had to admit. His sword's poison also seemed to be doing just as much damage as its actual cutting-edge, killing orcs with a bare scratch of the metal, and the goblins died screaming within seconds. Even the orcs seemed frightened by that, and more than one paused in their rush.

The fight continued unabated for a few more minutes as fewer and fewer of their opponents tried to rush at them. Eventually the tide stopped, and Harry stood gasping, a few scratches and nicks here and there, but nothing dangerous. Indeed his magic was already working to heal him for some reason. It had never done that back at home, but somewhere in the area between worlds and during his fight with Tom Riddle Harry's magic, and its relation to his physical body, had changed. It did nothing for his scars though

"A good fight Harry Potter," said Thorin, looking around and making sure that there were no other enemies. "You start gathering the bodies," he went on brusquely, "I'll head inside."

"Are you sure it's a good idea to split up like that? Seems reckless."

"What's reckless is your swordwork," Thorin said with a shake of his head. "In fact I'm not even going to call it swordwork, you use that sword is if you've never have had a lesson in your life! It has a point lad, use it, don't just slash all the time and keep your be-damned wrist loose! Don't go for so many overhead blows, you might look like a hero from a sage, but that kind of…"

This went on for some time. Thorin was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to both weapons and their use. Harry's amateur swordsmanship offended his sensibilities.

"I'm sorry I was never taught to use a sword," Harry said, his lips quirking, "and you haven't answered my question."

Thorin shook his head at the idea of a young man like this owning a sword like that and not having gotten lessons in its use, but he had more important things to do right now. "You're too tall, and your unused to fighting in the dark anyway. You would need to use a spell to see as well as I can in the dark, and you have never fought in a tunnel have you?"

"Not before this moment no," Harry said gesturing to the entrance of the cavern around them, which after all wasn't that very large, barely giving them a few inches to either side of their bodies.

"Exactly." With that Thorin turned and without another word forged his way deeper into the cavern over the bodies of the dead, leaving Harry shaking his head behind him.

Thorin found that it wasn't very long, connecting to the other entrances quickly in a large area, about 300 feet to a side. Looking at the walls Thorin saw that this area at least was a natural cavern, but the rest had just as obviously been dug out at some point.

He made certain there were no survivors, finding dozens more bodies. Some of them had possibly asphyxiated by the smoke, which still wafted here and there in the area, and more had been trampled by their fellows, the smallest goblins and the slowest dying beneath the boots of their so-called comrades. A few dozen were also buried under a cave in at the other side, which must have been started by the explosive spell Harry had used. Here and there Thorin also saw other… remains, and Thorin could feel his lips twisting into a rictus snarl as he turned away from what had been the orc band's cookpot.

Pulling at his beard with his free hand as he counted bodies, Thorin smiled grimly. A good fight, and Harry's magic is suddenly efficacious. And that sword... As he marched back the way he came after making certain all of the bodies were indeed dead, Thorin's heavyset face set into even grimmer lines. It was time to do something he had not been looking forward to, time to share his people's pain. But I will be doing it with a person who might hopefully help us regain what we have lost.

Outside Harry had gone around doing the same thing Thorin did inside, cutting at the bodies lightly with his sword, then dragging the bodies into a large pile. Twice he had been surprised by goblins playing dead, but a single scratch from the sword-that-had-been-swum-in-Basilisk-venom saw them off.

"I'll deal with that," Thorin said gruffly as he came up, a thick thumb pointing over his shoulder momentarily. "That place however deserves a more wizardly touch."

"You mean I should cave it in now?"

"Aye," Thorin said nodding. "And lad, don't go in there," he said quickly grabbing Harry's shoulder roughly as Harry had moved to the entrance.

Harry looked at Thorin quizzically but something in the dwarf's eyes made him realize he didn't want to know what was behind that command. Nodding, he began to throw out a few Bombarda spells debacle the entrance way, walking the spell along the top of the tunnel until the entire hill began to rumble, caving in on itself.

By that point Thorin had piled the bodies into several reeking, loathsome mounds, which he piled over with wood, lighting it up with flint and tinder with the aid of some cooking oils he along with a bottle of the foul liquor orcs drank. The bonfires began quickly, and Harry came back, standing beside Thorin as he lit the last mound.

"Come," Thorin said, gesturing away into the woods. "Best we get away from the smell and the smoke ourselves. Even in death orcs and goblins can strike down the unwary."

Harry nodded, and as they moved off at a trot into the sword to his belt once more. "Perhaps you can answer a question for me. When I was trying magic back there against the orcs there was some kind of dampening effect. It was harder than it should be to use magic around them."

Thorin shrugged. "I know not about such things, my own people have never had magic of the nature that you wield. You would have to ask an actual Wizard about such things. Still it would not surprise me that such exists in orcs in particular. Both of those races our evil creatures, created in the dark times as abominable mirror images of elves, men and even dwarves curse them."

"Created?" Harry said sharply "An entire race?" Harry shuddered, shaking his head. "All right, that's a scary thought."

"Hah," Thorin barked a laugh, though there was nothing humorous in the sound. "That was among least of the fell deeds in the ages past. I know my own people's parts in that time, both fell and proud, but not the entirety. If you would have the entire tale, t'would be best to talk to someone who knows it from beginning to end. All I know is, that Morgoth the Betrayer was a Fallen Valar, and he made war against all mortals, dwarves, elves and men in Middle Earth. It was only when the other Valar, including my people's lord Aule banded together and moved against him in force that he was overthrown. Before that, Morgoth might've had a few setbacks here and there, but in general, he was simply too powerful for any mere mortal to defeat in his mighty fortress of Angband."

"Lovely," Harry muttered. "I will want that story in full later on. In fact, I'd like a history lesson about the entirety of Middle Earth."

"That is a tale true, but one for another time, as it is a dark tale, and we've had enough dark deeds today." Thorin replied.

The two of them traveled silently again for a time, this time the silence of companions who had fought beside one another as well as the silence of their own thoughts. The moon had waned by the time Thorin found a good resting place for the day. He looked at Harry and Harry nodded, beginning to conjure up the beds they would use for the night. Thorin didn't want to get used to that kind of luxury, but after that fight he felt they had earned it. He himself went out hunting, or rather trapping. Thorin had no eyes for archery, and little woodcraft for stalking, but he was good at making traps and placing them in the right places to catch the unwary animal.

Soon he came back to find that Harry had once again made up the campsite, two beds and a fire pit, which he'd actually done by hand Thorin was pleased to note. He'd conjured up the beds of course, but stones had been excised from the surrounding area to form a rough circle, and he had placed wood in it correctly in such a manner that the smoke would not travel far. The boy he was learning.

No, Thorin thought, the young man was learning. He might be the same age or younger even then my cousins for his own race, but he is a man, one who was blooded even before that fight with that apparition that came with him.

Harry held up a cup of camp water from a small cairn he had created, and Thorin nodded gratefully, dipping in a bit of his own ale into the water, the alcohol being so strong it even watered down f it was almost as strong as the alcohol most humans made do with. "One of these days I'm going to try that straight up you know," Harry said, gesturing at where Thorin was now sipping from his own flask.

"Perhaps," Thorin said chuckling into his bear, perhaps. "You'll have to build up some immunity first however."

Harry nodded falling silent, and for a moment the two of them simply stared into the crackling fire. Then Thorin began. "My name is Thorin Oakenshield as I said. But I am not a simple warrior or smith as I appear. I am the son of Thror, son of Thrain, the rightful king of Erebor. Or I would be, if not for the horror that is Smaug." Thorin did not look up at Harry as he spoke, this tale would be easier if he stared into the fire the better to remember what had ended his kingdom, and the fact his listener was not of his kin.

"The Lonely Mountain…" He began again, shaking his head. "Bright were our halls and strong our hearts in those days…" Thorin went on from there, describing the halls of Erebor as best he could for a time, the wonder of mind and hand that had gone into the greatest kingdom of dwarves of this age. And then his tale turned dark, with the coming of Smaug.

Harry interrupted the tail only twice, asking about the weapons they had used and the defenses of the town of man which Thorin willingly told him about, and again when he mentioned the elves left his people to die. "They just turned aside!?" Harry said incredulously. "They didn't even offer to help your people? Not even with food or anything of that nature?"

"No," Thorin said growling the word as his hands clenched in front of his lap. "They give us nothing, they turned us away, and when a few of my people tried to enter Mirkwood, tried to go through them to seek aid elsewhere, none returned! The elves would not help, either through fear, or uncaring, I know not and care not. We had to march far afield, towards the Iron Hills before finding aid from our cousins there, and many a dam and child died in the journey."

Looking at Thorin's profile, his eyes glittering darkly, Harry realized that those losses meant even more to Thorin then it would have to a human leader. Some social importance there wasn't crossing over here, but he set his curiosity aside for now, concentrating on the Thorin's story as the dwarf started to speak again.

At the end of the tale, Harry frowned, asking some questions, most of which were about the humans of Dale of course. Thorin answered, though he didn't know anything about what was going on there at this point. He knew that the humans had created a kind of Watertown there near the ruins of old Dale, and that a surprising number of them had survived the coming of the Dragon, though their houses and livelihoods had not. But unlike his people, they could not call upon the largess of distant neighbors, there was no nearby human country that would come to their aid, and traversing the lands between them and the nearest one would have killed more than staying and trying to rebuild had. Dwarves, Thorin said with a sort of grim pride, were tougher than men, even their children to such hardship.

Harry looked away after that, frowning as he stared out into the woods. And I thought my life was tough. "I understand. So, you and your friends are following these portents and signs that it is time to take back the mountain? I really don't have much truck with prophecy like that,"

He saw Thorin cock his head quizzically at that, and Harry shook his head. "I mean I don't trust it, but still… what can I do to help?"

"As simple as that?" Thorin asked, his deep set eyes narrowing as he looked at the young man. Even though Harry had said something similar that had been when he had been ignorant of the true depth of Thorin's plight, his people's plight and what might be asked of him.

"You're my friend and you were wronged, your people slaughtered, of course I will help." Harry said with a shrug. "But no," he said with that sudden fey grin of his that made Thorin realize anew Harry was not quite right in the head. "I'm not going to do it for free. I want something in return."

Thorin's eyes narrowed, but Harry went on unhurriedly. "I want to know everything you can teach me about this Middle Earth, I also want an introduction to these wizards you've mentioned. You said one of them was helping you organize this expedition?"

At Thorin nodded, relaxing slightly, seeing that his friend wasn't going to demand gold up front or anything of that nature. Even if he had Thorin would've acquiesced of course, that sword and what it could possibly do represented too good a weapon to pass up. And he would not stoop to killing the man in front of him or attempting to take it from him that way. Dishonorable deeds like that had a habit of coming back to haunt you.

"And I also want sword lessons," Harry said after seconds thought. "Evidently," finished dryly "I need them."

Thorin looked at him, then began to laugh, a booming chuckle that reverberated around their campsite. "Agreed! Agreed and thrice agreed Harry Potter!" He held out his hand, and Harry took it, shaking it firmly.

"Now," Thorin said briskly, ending the hand clasp. "We've had enough of grim talk, let us share tales of happier times. Those odd creatures you used in the first battle last night interest me, what where did they come from, and is there a tale behind how quickly they came to your mind?"

"Oh yes," Harry said with a grin, remembering happier times with his friends, before he was ostracized by the majority of the school, before war had come into their lives, before he had realized his life was never going to be totally his own. "Luna Lovegood, the quirkiest witch I ever met. And perhaps one of the surest friends one could ever make."

"Lovegood?" Thorin asked blanched. "Is, is that a mistranslation perhaps?"

Harry laughed. "No, that was really her name. And yes there is a story behind those creatures. You see…"

OOOOOOO

Gandalf had reached the edge of the Shire, moving past the small post of Bounders having had to apologize for not having any fireworks with him this time. He could of course have entered the Shire without dealing with the small, officious border patrol, but why bother doing so when he had no need to?

He stopped just out of sight of the hobbit behind him when he felt the feeling of magic being worked again in the distance. Someone was casting several magic spells in quick succession, including one heavy spell, a kind of wind manipulation, and he shook his head ruefully. The wizard in question was going to feel that in the morning, Gandalf knew from long experience. Manwe did not like people who tried to manipulate his air.

Unfortunately the feelings again cut off before Gandalf could localize them. He'd gotten a direction from the pulses that time, but nothing more. Ah well, that will come in time I suppose. If whoever is using magic continues to do so it will be simple enough to hunt them down and have a long conversation with whoever it is. For now, I had best find an inn for the evening. I will approach Baggins on the morrow.

OOOOOOO

It took Harry and Thorin a few hours to find the road the next morning and two full days traveling at the top speed they could manage on their own two feet to travel within sight of the hobbit's odd, country. "I will be grateful to meet up with my kin for more than one reason. We will make better time with ponies, and I know one of my companions has already purchased such for our journey."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I've never been on a horse, so I imagine it will be an amusing moment when I tried to ride, even if only on a pony."

Ahead of them there was a small wooden guard post, a table set outside it. At the table sat two smallfolk, puffing on their pipes. On the table the remains of a heavy meal for four in was visible as the two came close. Harry took a moment to look at them as he and Thorin strode up. They were short, shorter by a few inches or so than Thorin, and where he was squat with muscle, these simply seemed short. They were both stolid, not quite fat but definitely well fed, with wide, round faces and curly hair.

They also, Harry was amused to note, did not have shoes on. This was visible as one of them had propped his feet up on the table. The feet in question were larger than their size suggested, hairy and calloused heavily on the bottom.

The owner of those feet looked up lazily, then blinked three times rapidly as if unable to comprehend what he was seeing. He then hopped to his feet, nudged his companion and the both of them moved out into the road, picking up long heavy looking staves as they went. The staves weren't pointed, but Harry imagined that they could crack a man's head easily enough. "Are they as strong as you are?" he had asked out of the corner of his mouth.

Thorin chuckled at the very idea. "I think not." He replied dryly. "Hobbits are supposedly decent enough warriors with bows and slings when roused, but it takes something truly spectacular to do so. I have no idea why Gandalf wanted us to meet in the Shire, but in our last meeting he claimed to have found a thief for us, though with your inclusion it might not even be necessary. Still it was too late to change our plans."

"True," Harry said with a shrug. "It's not as if you could have planned for my arrival after all. My travel plans were not exactly under my control, let alone anyone else's."

Thorin chuckled again at the dark joke, and the two of them stopped, raising their hands towards the two guards. "I think they are called Bounders…" Thorin said slowly out of the corner of his mouth. "You should do the talking."

Blinking Harry looked at him and Thorin shrugged. "There are some of these smallfolk among humans in Bree and a few dwarves too, but not many. They will be friendlier to you I think."

"What about your companions?"

"They will of coming in from other directions, or overland entirely. I doubt the Bounders will have noticed them, and once we are leaving they will not care how we got in in the first place if they even notice us then." Thorin shrugged.

Harry nodded, and took a step forward, holding up his hands peaceably. "Good evening friends," he said, bowing politely. "Tell me, are we allowed to enter your nation peaceably at this time of the evening, or must we wait someplace else and enter at a specific time?"

His equable tone and manners disarmed the two Bounders despite their shock at seeing one of the big folk and a dwarf traveling together. "You can enter whenever you wish strangers, we don't turn away any save those who look disreputable, and while you to look hard trod, you don't look that bad off." said one of them.

oh if you only knew. Harry thought with an internal laugh, his lips twitching. "I'll thank you for that faint praise," he said instead, touching his forelock respectfully as he had read about in a few fantasy novels. "And then will be on our way."

"Wait" said the other one, looking between the two travelers officiously. "Are you just passing through the Shire or are you here for some purpose?" He looked at his companion shrugged his shoulders. "You know at least the Master of the Hall will want to know, and maybe the Old Took as well."

The other Bounder nodded, though the names meant nothing to Harry and Thorin. Still Harry answered readily enough, gesturing out past the road to a few distant farms, heavy and redolent with food. "We won't be here for long, we are here in fact to meet a few of our friends, and I personally would like to look at some of the farmland around here, you short folk seem to have away with soil that is frankly amazing to me."

The two hobbits smiled complacently at that, nodding their heads to one another. "Aye, it's the rare human indeed who can match a hobbit when it comes to working with the earth. Come in then, but be on your best behavior aye?"

Harry nodded, even though Thorin bristled slightly at the idea that these two could stop him if he wanted to behave badly. He wasn't going to of course, but their lack of manners sat ill with him.

The two went on their way, though Thorin had to wonder at how often Harry stopped to ask questions of the various farmers. There was something about the area that seemed to fascinate Harry, but what it was Thorin couldn't tell. He wasn't a farmer, so the amount of agriculture going on didn't interest him at all.

Though it seemed as if Harry wasn't getting any answers. More than one of the hobbits didn't even try to talk to him, turning away quickly and moving off, leery of strangers. Others simply laughed, and Thorin heard more than one state "the big folk and the dwarf wanted to know that, it's no secret, but not something you'll be able to do!" Before going on their way still laughing.

For his part down, Thorin also had some issues with the area, though is came from its inhabitants rather than their doings. This was the first time he'd met any hobbits, and he was surprised at the impact of them, not the men so much as the maidens. They were all short, very well-formed, with wide, happy faces, their eyes of citrine, agate or tourmaline or lazuli, their hair curly, like spun gold or bronze.

"Shame they have no beards," he thought, not realizing he had said that aloud as the two made their way forward through a area where there were no hobbits at the present moment.

Beards? Harry thought, then shook his head deciding he didn't want to know. "A very odd place to meet these companions of yours Thorin," he said instead, shaking his head as the two of them continued on their way.

"I told you the Wizard chose it, and wizards are all odd in various ways," Thorin replied drolly looking up at his taller companion who laughed, shaking his head as they continued on their way astounding any who met them by the sheer oddity of seeing a human and a dwarf together like that.

Harry kept on looking around, feeling this place out. Something was in the air here, not so much magical potential but simple… goodness? It was hard to describe more than that. it was magical in a way, sort of giving off a feel like Hogwarts in type though not in style. It wasn't magic of an individual, but of a place.

They passed through several more small hamlets with Thorin stopping occasionally to stare at a doorway or door before moving on. When Harry asked what he was looking for Thorin replied that Thrakun would have marked the house they were supposed to meet in, the one where the thief lived. More than once, they came they walked past a tavern, the sound of merriment and laughter inside making Harry smile and Thorin shake his head. Despite his own good mood, the levity in the atmosphere here was a little much for him.

This got worse as two maidens came out of a tavern, leaning on one another and moving down the road towards home. They stopped and stared at Thorin, and Harry, mesmerized by Harry's emerald eyes for a moment as he walked past, touching his forelock respectfully to them as Thorin did the same. But it was Thorin who grabbed their attention, his dark looks and long hair, his taller than normal build appealing to them greatly, and they began to whisper excitedly to one another before moving away quickly giggling.

Harry paused, shaking his head, resolutely not turning around to look at the hobbit maidens. "All right, I'm not even going to comment on that one." Thorin looked at him and Harry shrugged. "Farm folk tend to be very earthy, and the two ladies back there were no exception. Do you want to know what they were would be willing to do with you?"

Thorin's ears flushed slightly, and he turned away quickly. "Not at all thank you," he said quickly. "I know other races do things differently but even so such things should be kept private, between a dam and her chosen."

At that Harry laughed, and he was still laughing as they finally found the door that they were searching for. A moment later however Thorin turned the tables on him. "Oh, and if those twins you mentioned made such comments about you would you have acted any differently than I?"

OOOOOOO

"He's here," said one dwarf to another, and Bilbo with a sigh of despair for a day gone horribly strange opened the door quickly, to stare at what was apparently supposed to be the last dwarf. Behind him the other dwarves had all gathered to watch their friend, their leader arrived, only to stare as Bilbo did at the site of Thorin laughing at something, which wasn't exactly normal in the best of times, but then there was his companion, a companion who Gandalf too stared at in amused shock. The magic user here! Is that why the Valar sent that wait and see feeling towards me? Well thank you for that! Perhaps I can solve this minor mystery soon and without going out of my way to do so.

"Thorin," said Gandalf, walking forward, his head bowed low due to the ceiling. "Welcome!"

Thorin entered, looking up at tall Wizard smirking slightly at how he stooped he was forced to be at present. "Gandalf, I apologize for my lateness," he said looking at the wizard and then around at the others. "I had some trouble on the road, both before and after meeting my new companion here." He looked at a few dwarfs more seriously, his cousins Fili and Kil, and an Dwalin. "An orc raiding party was getting together to attack at hamlet on my way, and my friend and I decided we should do something about it before coming here. It took us a bit out of our way I'm sorry to say."

"Alone?" said one of the other dwarves shocked. "You two took on an entire band of goblins alone?"

"My friend has certain abilities that evened the balance." Thorin said with a chuckle, entering the house. "And you would be?" he looked at the lone hobbit standing amongst his brethren.

"Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins at your service and that of your family," he said respectfully, something about this dwarf demanded that sort of seriousness, which had faded after the first few dwarves arrived.

"Thorin Oakenshield," Thorin said nodding his head. He made no mention of service whatever.

"Harry Potter at your service and your family's. Harry said entering the house after him and bowing politely. "My people don't normally say at your service and your family's, but I suppose when in Rome or in this case the Shire..."

Even if he had no idea where Rome was the big folk's droll response caused Bilbo to actually chuckle, shaking his head. Then he suddenly felt something, and stepped aside, allowing the two humans to stare at one another as Thorin moved forward, clapping backs and shaking arms among his brethren.

Even as he did so though, more than one of the dwarves was looking past him at his companion, which Thorin supposed was to be expected. His old friend Balin pulled him into a close hug, as Thorin did the same, whispering into his king's ear. "A human Thorin, why are you traveling with one of them!?"

"That's a tale to tell, and one I think you'll all need to hear along with Gandalf. But he is an ally. For now, take a look at the sword he's wearing."

The older dwarf did so, his eyes widening as he realized that the sword in question was of incredibly good make. Dwarven at least, possibly ancient elvish work. "I see," he said thoughtfully, looking at his king once more before shrugging his shoulders. "I'll wait for the tale lad, but not overlong."

For their part, the two wizards were too busy staring at one another to notice this byplay.

Harry's first impression was that this old man was Dumbledore, only he wasn't, not when you took in the details. He had the same beard, the same look of age about him, but there the resemblance ended. This one was windswept, he wore his age lightly without any of the sense of gravitas Dumbledore liked to surround himself with. His beard was far less cared for, his body thinner but stronger seeming for that, and he wore dirty robes rather than gaudy robes. There was also a strength in Gandalf that Harry could feel, whereas Dumbledore went to great lengths to hide his own.

In turn Gandalf saw Harry, deeper perhaps than Harry would have been comfortable with. He noticed the young man was scarred heavily. His hands and forearms had several healed scars that looked like a cross between burn scars and claw marks. There was scar on his face too, and an older one, faded with age, on his forehead. His youth was also only a seeming, his stance, his scars, told of great hardship over time, and his green eyes spoke of great power and pain in equal measure. Gandalf saw a deep, if possibly recent sadness behind those eyes. His levity was a front, a well-practiced mask or perhaps a shield against that grief that the young man had yet to deal with.

"I warn you bearded one?" Harry said after a moment's contemplation of the older man. "If your eyes start to twinkle I will poke them out."

No, Gandalf decided as he chuckled best not to try to get the boy to admit to that pain just yet. Best to get to know him first, and to be known in turn. "The only time my eyes twinkle is when I am deep into my cups, and they don't twinkle so much as become glassy at times like that," he said with a chuckle. "I welcome you fellow wizard, we will have to have a talk later. But for now, sit eat and be merry!

The dwarves' reaction to Thorin showing up with the human was mixed to say the least. A few were looking at him distrustfully, a few in astonishment, and more than one speculatively given the nature of the sword that Thorin had pointed out to them. The two youngest however grinned, at the comment about eyes, moving forward to shake Harry's hand firmly, seeing in him a kindred spirit and unwilling to look into it deeper just then. Time enough for deep talks and thoughts after the eating and making merry as Gandalf put it.

Harry spent a few moments talking to Fili and Kili telling them a little bit about how he and their uncle had met up, but not too much. Thorin had said he wanted to get that introduction over with all at once, and Harry had to agree. It was much better that way then telling the same story over and over again. He also wasn't interested in being cornered by Gandalf just yet, though thankfully Gandalf seemed to have sensed that and had moved on, joining the general merrymaking.

Instead, as Fili and Kili rushed to the table, Harry concentrated on their host, who looked rather harried. "Might I help Mr. Baggins?" he asked, quickly moving to help the little fellow with a cheese that came up to his waist. As he did, he examined the hobbit closely, not seeing anything to make him stand out amongst his fellows except possibly more intelligence in his face, though Harry knew he wasn't exactly the best at spotting that kind of thing. He was fit certainly, not like a lot of other hobbits they'd seen today, but he wasn't the only one to be that either. What about you grabbed Gandalf's attention enough for him to make the Shire the place you all are meeting?

"Oh, thank you Mr. Potter." Bilbo said, smiling. "I must say I approve of your name, it certainly makes more sense than most of the names I've heard from the big people."

"I wish I could tell you there was a story behind it," Harry said as the two maneuvered the cheese over to where a few of the other dwarves quickly grabbed it, slamming it onto the table and slicing into it quickly. The dwarves were all eating as if they had been fasting for weeks, at least Harry hoped this was the case. It they ate like this every day that was a horrifying thought. "But apparently my family really were just potters at one point, rich ones admittedly, but nothing major. We were very good however at managing our money and my anscestors made it grow over time."

"Sound practice," said one of the other dwarves nearby, one of the fatter ones, if not the fattest. "You would not believe how many people forget or choose to ignore the fact they should leave something to the descendents!"

Harry shook his head. "They left me a legacy true enough, but I would've traded that legacy for actually having my parents around in the first place." He shook his head before anyone could ask a question about that, turning back to Bilbo. "But later for that kind of discussion. I actually had a question for you Mr. Baggins."

"Certainly," said the hobbit, seemingly somewhat overwhelmed that this tall human was taking an interest in him beyond simply gorging Bag End out of food and wine.

"As Thorin and I were traveling through the Shire, I was amazed by the amount of green growing things there are in here." Harry gave a small half shrug. "I understand there is a monstrous forest to one side, and that is bright green and growing, but it's not exactly tilled land is it? Trees can grow in sometimes grow where nothing else can. And the rest of the land outside of that forest seems almost dead, not land that could be turned into such amazing farmland as you have here."

Harry had noticed that even traveling throughBree, the largest group of settlements they had passed through. There were a few farms there and if Harry had time to explore he might've found a few farms there whose verdant green fertility could match the farms in the Shire, but he hadn't.

"Yes, I can see where a big person might be intrigued by that, but there's no real secret behind it." Bilbo laughed. "Or at least that is what most of my fellows think. We don't like unnatural things we cannot see and touch, and most of us have forgotten our origins."

Harry cocked an eyebrow inquisitively gesturing the hobbit to go on. Bilbo puffed himself up slightly, fisting his hands in the front of his lapels and leaning back against the wall behind him. "My father and my father's father before him going generations back always thought that knowledge of where we came from and who we worshipped should be passed on, even though the worshiping part has fallen by the wayside. We hobbits are followers of the Yavanna you see."

Not understanding the importance of that Harry kept a confused expression off his face with difficulty, but he still gestured Bilbo to go on. "Yavanna is the lady of the trees, of growing things. It is from Yavanna which all things which grow, from the trees to the grass come in the time of the Spring of Arda, though of course that was ages before my own people came to be. But through Yavanna's power, growing things can remove the taint of things."

Bilbo shrugged his shoulders, his voice, which had seemed to have an odd power to it when he spoke of Yavanna, returning to normal. "We can purge the taint from things, make the land grow bright and green again. That is what we have done here, this land used to be dead land created during the wars against Angmar. But hundreds of years of work has gone into the Shire over time to make it the way it is. My great, great, great, great, grandfather could've told you stories about how the lands were in his father's times, and it was just as vile then as the area outside the Shire is now."

Throughout this explanation Gandalf had coasted over into hearing range, and his eyes widened before a smile of pure delight showed on his face. Chuckling quietly he turned away, and Harry frowned after him. He didn't know? Or did he suspect and had yet to hear it from Bilbo? Strange that. As is this talk of Valar that Thorin told me, though he never mentioned Yavanna. Gods, demi-gods and goddesses

"Harry." Thorin shouted, "come here."

"Well Mr. Baggins, I suggest we get some of our food, before these ravenous dwarves eat it all. Honestly," he shouted, looking at some of the youngsters and in particular the fat one, Bombur he thought the name was. "You all are acting like a crop of locusts!"

There was some good-natured laughter at that, while Kili jokingly made buzzing noises until his brother smacked him upside the head.

Bilbo scooted into a corner after grabbing a plate of food while Gandalf scrunched himself into another corner. Harry sat between Thorin and Fili as Thorin gestured him into the seat. One or two of the dwarves looked askance at that, but didn't speak up, and the talking and laughter continued. Harry joined in wholeheartedly, talking with Fili, Kili and Bilbo in particular.

From the two brothers, he learned more about their people, about their family, and what their life had been like since Erebor. He learned their mother was named Dis, and, through subtle questioning, the fact that women barely made up a third of the dwarves' total population. This made them precious and thus they were rarely seen outside their homes. The three of them talked about pranks for a while until Thorin interjected, looking both pained and fearful. He drew Fili into a conversation of his own, while Dwalin did the same with Kili.

He learned much the same from Bilbo, though in his case Harry tried to draw him out about himself and his family. The Baggins were related to the Tooks and Brandybucks, the two largest and most important families in the Shire. For the most part the Baggins had been known to be sensible sorts, except in their knowledge of old things and languages though Belladonna, Bilbo's mother, had been known as a wild thing. And Bilbo too had gone through a few 'wild patches' in his life.

He had traveled the length of the Shire and even into the Old Forest several times. He had met elves traveling to the White Harbor (something which needed some explanation for Harry) and had traded tales with them and had at one point thought to join the Bounders. That was all in the past of course, since his mother's death Bilbo had settled down dramatically, taking over Bag End, the magnificent dwelling his father had built over his lifetime, tending to his garden with the help of a poorer family of farmers nearby, the Gamgee's.

After several hours of merry making and general banter it became time for serious discussions. Thorin began the talk by saying his cousin Dain, lord of the Iron Hills, was not willing to help them. He had his own people to look after, and while he would be willing to send military aid after the expedition succeeded, he was not willing to attempt the Smaug even if he had not been seen for over decades now.

Harry listened intently as all the others talked, frowning thoughtfully at the key that Gandalf gave Thorin. The map was also interesting. The idea of hidden runes or even doors was not foreign to Harry, though the idea of seeing a keyhole from a certain type of light was something that would tie into astrology more than he personally liked.

"And what if Smaug is alive?" said one of them. "We need a thief to get in and figure that out, but what if it is alive? Then this really will be a fool's errand."

"Not exactly…" Thorin said. "I think it has become time now to speak of Harry. "Harry, if you would place your sword on the table."

Harry nodded standing up but pausing before he reached for his sword. "I'll warn you all to not touch the blade. It is heavily poisoned, so poisoned that even a scratch will kill you horribly."

"Poison?" said one of the dwarves the bald one whose name was Dwalin if Harry was remembering it correctly. Harry hadn't gotten all of their names. "That's the weapon of a coward!"

There were some rumblings of agreement at that, but Thorin thumped the table with a heavy palm, causing the cutlery to jump. "It is only a coward's tactic if in all other ways you are equal with your enemy or even within spitting distance! Smaug has crushed armies, broke our people in a single day! How dare you say it is dishonorable to use any weapon we can against such a monstrosity! The only dishonorable thing would be to not strive with our utmost, to use any weapon we can!"

Dwalin looked away at that, nodding his head in submission and the muttering subsided.

After the noise had subsided Harry waited patiently until Thorin nodded to him again, then pulled out the blade, laying it on the table as he began his tale. "My name is Harry Potter, as I have already said. But what Thorin I did not want to speak of before this was that I am not of this world. And by that I do not mean I come from across the city from the West."

He looked around but to his surprise none of the dwarves interrupted again, though he could see Gandalf and surprisingly Bilbo seeming to burst with curiosity. Huh, so there might be more to Bilbo than meets the eye even beyond his being a hobbit and having this power against dark things.

Looking at Gandalf directly, Harry went on. "I come from an entirely different world. The geography is different, the people are different, even the oceans are different. As far as I know in my world, the dwarves have retreated entirely, closing their mountains to anyone but themselves. On the other hand my own people, magic users that is, have become insular to the point of stupidity. I won't go into it all, but suffice to say I was in a battle with a local dark lord, not as you would understand term I think, rather one of these Wraiths of the last war that I've heard of from Thorin. We fell through a magical construct, and found ourselves in between worlds for a time, only to come out here. I have various abilities skills in magic that this world seemingly doesn't have."

Harry gestured, conjuring up a soft fluffy chair for himself and sat down in it to the gasps of astonishment and shock of all concerned.

"We really will have to have a talk young man" Gandalf said thoughtfully staring at the younger man. But he wasn't going to break his flow for now.

"This is but one example, Thorin can tell you of a few others which I used during our battles against the orcs." Harry said as he stood up again. Another wave of his hand made the chair scoot backwards towards Bilbo, who sat in it quickly with a nod of thanks at the human. Bilbo hadn't actually been able to sit at the table, there were too many people there, and he was too self-effacing to force his way up to the table against these wild looking dwarves.

At this point Harry slowly brought out his sword, making sure that none of the other dwarves were close enough for him to accidentally hit. He laid it on the table, and the oldest dwarf, Balin, leaned forward intently, examining the work closely, pulling on a pair of gloves to move the blade this way to catch the light better. "It's somewhat crude for Elvin work, but it's better than any human could've made it save perhaps the Numenorians, and it's not a style dwarves would make. It looks almost like a collaboration effort between a dwarf and elf mad for a human, but that's impossible."

"Impossible here certainly," Gandalf said sadly. "At least in this time of ill content. Yet perhaps eventually…"

"I'm not going to be drawn on that one," Harry said, shaking his head at Thorin who huffed but subsided, a small smile appearing under his beard as Harry went on. "Though given the fact the elves of Mirkwood turned aside the dwarves of Erebor when they needed help I can't see it happening any time soon."

"Alas, elves have long memories for good or ill, and Thranduil is not the most forward thinking soul. Still it would be best to not take his example as a measure of all elves."

"In any event," Harry went on nodding to the old man before continuing understanding what he meant but not willing to go into a discussion about that kind of thing at the moment. "This sword is one of the deadlier weapons in my world, and that was before I used it to kill a basilisk, where it absorbed the beast's venom."

"What's one of those then?" said one of the dwarves suspiciously, a scrawny sort of fellow who looked almost unkempt in comparison to the other dwarves. He and a few others had backed away from the table slightly, though most of them hadn't.

"A giant serpent…. About…" Harry thought for a moment. "It was as wide as this house I suppose, and about as tall, and in terms of length I would guess from here to that inn we passed earlier today Thorin."

Thorin simply nodded, while most of the other dwarves simply gasped. But Harry went on before any could speak, looking again at Gandalf. "It had eyes which could petrify, turn its victims into stone, and poison that could literally kill anything in our world. Luckily basilisks were very, very rare due to how complicated their birth process was. The one I killed was thousands of years old, and it's poison had only gotten even more deadly in that time."

Gandalf eyes narrowed suddenly. "Exactly how old were you when you face this basilisk, and under what circumstances?"

"I was 12 at the time. It was terrorizing the school I was staying in, and no one else seemed able to find the beast, let alone face it." Harry said with a shrug. Then his eyes hardened. "Besides, the thing hurt Hermione." A second after he said the name his face seemed to crumple for a split second before returning to its normal almost carefree expression.

His age at the time of his fight against the basilisk caused many a gasp among the dwarves. Why achild that age would be barely allowed out of his house, let alone allowed to train in the arts of war! Even Bilbo looked horrified at the very idea of a young boy that age in a fight of any sort.

The only one who had noticed Harry's expression change before he mentioned this 'Hermione' was Balin, who cocked his head thoughtfully, staring at the young human through his wire rim glasses. That sounded almost like a dwarf would speak of someone having hurt his One. He also saw the human's face crumple after saying the name, and a horrible suspicion welled up inside him. Oh dear…

Thorin alone appeared unmoved, though he too was somewhat shocked, not having heard how young Harry had been at the time. But Gandalf's eyes blazed, the shadows behind him seeming to move and twitch as his body appeared to expand with his sudden fury. "How exactly did that creature come to be in a school, and where were your teachers!?"

"A discussion for another time," Thorin interjected smoothly. "Gandalf, do you think poison could kill the dragon?"

Gathering his self-control Gandalf shook his head, seeming to shrink back to his normal size. "I will be coming back to that question again young Harry. But as to your question Thorin, I would've said before this that no mortal poison could slay a dragon. Yet this basilisk, it reminds me of a creature from the age of Wrath created by Melchor. It was killed by Tulkas before his battle against Melchor."

"Are you willing to sell the sword then?" said one of the dwarves, squeaking backwards as Harry glared at him, those emerald eyes could contain quite a bit of venom if they wanted to.

But Thorin spoke up before Harry could. "No, he has agreed to aid us for friendships sake alone."

There was some murmuring about that, with the youngest dwarves smiling at Harry, but the oldest shook their heads. "I gave my word, and Thorin helped me tremendously upon my arrival," he said mildly, holding out his heavily scarred hands. "I would've died without his aid then and there, and he has helped me since, teaching me the local language, helping me get my feet under me. He's also agreed to give me sword lessons, which apparently I desperately need," he added dryly.

Thorin chuckled, slapping Harry on the shoulder and more than one dwarf was struck by the strange, camaraderie between the two of them. Thorin had never been known to be so friendly to anybody beside family, his two youngest cousins in particular, but somehow this human had gotten under his defenses.

That assuaged most of them, but Balin shook his head, putting aside his worries about Harry's past for now. "I understand what you're saying laddie, but the greed of man and dwarf can sometimes rear its head in unexpected circumstances. And many a man, aye and dwarf has been turned by gold."

"At home, I had a cavern about as big as this house filled with gold coins, so many I didn't bother counting and I could have cared less about them. They were simply there to let me buy things if I needed to, which I rarely did. Friendship mattered more to me than gold, as I didn't have any of it for the first 11 years of my life," Harry said his voice still mild, but his emerald eyes were noticeably harder.

"I understand that, and if it's friendship you've once, you have here aplenty." Balin shook his head as Fili and Kili led the others in a chorus of cheers, even Bilbo getting in on it. "But for this lad, for this! You'd have the thanks of an entire dwarven kingdom for your entire life and that of your children and your children's children! Yet still I'd be safer in my head if we had it in writing. This just the way of our people you have to understand. Our contracts are our bond."

"So you're not doubting my friendship or my word, just wanting a permanent sign of it?" Harry asked, frowning but eventually he nodded. "I'll agreed to that I suppose."

"In which case," Balin said, turning to Gandalf and Bilbo. "It becomes time for us to also talk about the agreements for the thief that you have brought us here to meet Thrakun."

"Thief?" Bilbo said, squeaking from within Harry's conjured chair. "Me?"

"I would've called you a scout myself," Harry said. "Tell me Bilbo, when you were on your long walkabouts, did you ever sneak up on people?"

"Well of course, every young hobbit does that! Although," Bilbo said puffing himself up slightly "I'll admit that I took it a step further. I was able to sneak up on other hobbits! You big people and you dwarves, all if you stamp around in your overgrown feet and those boots of yours, too noisy by far."

"Scout then," the old dwarf said nodding amicably. "Although, will your scouting abilities transfer to the inside of a cavern?"

"Exactly what would you be asking me to do?" Bilbo said cautiously, wondering where the heck this was all going, but with Harry's eyes on him Bilbo felt a bit of the courage that his family had been known for. Talking to the human and explaining about his walkabouts and adventures had lit a fire in him somehow. "And what is this talk of dragons anyway?"

Thorin sighed sadly, shaking his head and motioning one of the other dwarves to talk.

"And you," Bilbo exclaimed after Bofur and Bombur finished, "and you expect me to try to, to sneak up on something like that!?"

"It might not even be alive at this point, it's been decades since he was seen after all." One of the other dwarves said. "Harry's sword is just going to be insurance."

"I'm noting that the official wizard among us is not talking right now. Gandalf?" Harry said mildly.

Gandalf frowned, looking at Harry but nodding his head. "It's highly unlikely that a dragon of Smaug's power would simply die of old age. It could've caused a cave-in of some kind and been trapped and starved, but even that would take years. It is my hope that the Dragon is dead, but…"

Harry nodded. "My people have a saying. Hope in one hand, shit in another see which one fills up first."

That garnered a moment of cacophonous laughter from the dwarves, who slapped their knees or the table in delight at the pithy phrase. Bilbo looked mildly affronted, and also still quite scared. "I…no, just no this is beyond me! I'll hold my hand up and say I'd be fine with helping you move through terrain, scouting ahead of you in that kind of fashion for a time, but going into that, into a cavern where I Dragon could be, no!"

Gandalf's eyes had narrowed speculatively, Bilbo's even slight courage after so long in a sedentary life surprised him, and he wondered how much of it was Bilbo himself, or the charismatic Harry Potter. Harry seems to be able to draw out people, why look at what he had done with Thorin!

"Consider what else you might be needed for Bilbo," Harry said, leaning back in his chair and looking over at all of the people were beginning to fill up with tobacco. "I never got into that habit before," he said thoughtfully changing the subject as he stared at them. "I might need to at this point. Every Wizard should have a vice of some kind I suppose."

Gandalf chuckled at that, shaking his head. "I'll buy you a pipe before we leave my lad, and you can try some of my own pipe weed. It's not for everyone though I'll warn you."

"Well it's either that or dwarven mead, which I was promised at one point I think Thorin." Harry said, cocking an eyebrow at the dwarf, who sighed and gestured to Gloin.

"Heh, here you go laddie, down a dram of that," Gloin said, passing a small flagon over to Harry, who took it with a bow of thanks.

Before he drank from it however Harry turned back to Bilbo, who was still wringing his hands and shaking slightly in his chair. "Mr. Baggins, I was never given the opportunity to say no to any of the adventures I've been on in my life, and I fully understand why this is a daunting concept. But consider this: Adventures like this, they come along once in a lifetime, once in every four lifetimes perhaps. And it is not for gold you journey, nor for friendship either in your case. Rather it is the adventure itself, seeing the world beyond the walls of the Shire. You said that you were eager at one point to do so, you almost joined the Bounders to do that righ? You've been into the Old Forest a time or two you said."

"Well yes, but that's a vast difference from trying to sneak through dwarven halls on a dragon!" Bilbo replied, although he was no longer shaking.

"You will have help," Harry said mildly. "I have spells that can help you sneak around, that can hide you in plain sight even, and you'll have training along the way. Not just in scouting but in sword play."

Thorin groaned slightly to himself but nodded slowly. Harry for some reason wanted Bilbo along, as did Gandalf. If two wizards agreed on something, he was willing to go along with it. Bilbo frowned looking up at Harry and then over at Gandalf who seemingly had chosen him for this reason. If they see something in me that I myself cannot see, who is in the right? "I, I will think about it. Can I have this agreement and look it over for the night?"

"Aye lad, it's not a decision that anyone should make quickly I understand," Balin replied, patting Bilbo on the shoulder.

As the other dwarves began to clean up, moving chairs out of the dining hall and into the room with a fireplace, Thorin and Gandalf moved to the doorway, staring out into the night outside contemplatively for a moment before Harry joined them. "Both of you believe Bilbo's aid is seemingly important for reasons beyond what he himself knows. A scout aye, that I can see and would even agree with if not for Harry's abilities in that area."

"Abilities which make a splash for senses to feel them," Gandalf said, looking over at as Harry joined them. "A splash that can be sensed well beyond line of sight."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You've been feeling the magic I've been doing?"

"Oh yes, indeed it was rather interesting. I thought at first that one of my own order had imbibed in something of a hallucinogenic nature, or run into trouble. I wanted to hunt you down, but I felt it incumbent to wait and see."

Harry's eyes remained narrowed, catching something in the way that Gandalf said that. After a moment though he shrugged, looking away. "I'll remember that. You think Smaug would be able to sense my magic?"

"Possibly not through stone, but once we are within the caverns yes." Gandalf said with a nod.

"I'll remember that too, bugger," Harry said shaking his head.

At that point Thorin took control of the discussion once more. "But I cannot see what you see in Bilbo that makes him so important once we get there."

"It is the nature of hobbits, isn't it?" Harry asked looking at Gandalf.

"Yes, I had not known that, and I thought I knew everything there was to know about hobbit-kind, more fool I for that. I had been guided almost, by my own thoughts and feelings to believe that Bilbo was important somehow, but if Hobbits do look to Yavana, that makes a lot of sense."

Gandalf turned to Thorin. "Dragons leave a taint behind you see, a madness in the gold they touch, in the places they live. Bilbo might be able to better combat that than any of us, and might even be able to help cleanse it."

Thorin thought about this, wondering if this was a barb sent his way because of the fact his family had been known to fall into gold madness, but decided not to broach the subject. He vowed once again to himself that he would not fall into the same madness his grandfather Thror had, before the fall of Erebor, he would not!

"If he comes, very well. I'll help train him, or I'll get one of the youngsters to do it. Both of them are actually quite good swordsmen in their own rights, and quite a bit more patient than I. But I will not be responsible for his fate. He will be a contributing member of the company, not baggage to be used only when needed. He will have to pull its own weight understood?"

"Of course," Gandalf said mildly, and Thorin moved inside.

Harry waited a moment, then looked at Gandalf thoughtfully. "We will have to talk later," he said, and Gandalf nodded equably and the two men followed Thorin back inside, joining the other dwarves in the room with the fireplace.

Thorin pulled out a small pipe of his own, lighting it and puffing at it for a few moments as he stood in front of the fireplace, his back to the others. Then he did what the one thing Harry would never have expected from the dwarf. He began to sing, in a remarkably good deep bass. {Song taken from the Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien} "Far over the misty mountains cold, to dungeons deep and caverns old we must away ere break of day, to seek the pale enchanted gold. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells while hammers fell like ringing bells, in places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells."

One hand coming up to scratch at his chin Harry frowned, hearing something in Thorin's voice. There was pride there, longing of course, but also something more than that, more than grief too. Whatever it was, he saw it in the dwarves' faces all around them. Purpose born in loss perhaps? Harry actually had to hold back a shudder, hearing the amount of loss in the dwarves' voices.

"For ancient king and elvish lord there many a gleaming golden hoard, they shaped and wrought and light they caught to hide in gems on hilt of sword. On silver necklaces they strung the flowering stars, on crowns they hung the dragon-fire. In twisted wire, they meshed the light of moon and sun. Far over the misty mountains cold to dungeons deep and caverns old we must away, ere break of day, to claim our long-forgotten gold."

Dwalin had joined in on that refrain, as had Bofur and Bifur, and one of the others whose name Harry hadn't caught. He realized now that the dwarfish pride in things they made went far beyond what most humans could conceive.

"Goblets they carved there for themselves, and harps of gold; where no man delves there lay they long, and many a song was sung unheard by men or elves." On that line Balin and the last two dwarves joined in, Oin and Ori. Ori, Thorin had explained at one point, had a wish to be a bard. Oin was a healer of some repute among their people.

And then something changed, the pain in the dwarves voices came to the fore as they went into the next refrain, with every dwarf now on their feet, staring at Thorin and the fire he stood beside. "The pines were roaring on the height, the winds were moaning in the night. The fire was red, it flaming spread, the trees like torches blazed with light. The bells were ringing in the dale and men they looked up with faces pale. The dragon's ire more fierce than fire laid low their towers and houses frail.

"The mountain smoked beneath the moon; the dwarves they heard the tramp of doom. They fled their hall to dying fall, beneath his feet, beneath the moon. Far over the misty mountains grim, to dungeons deep and caverns dim. We must away, ere break of day, to win our harps and gold from him!"

OOOOOOO

Later that night as the dwarves went to bed in various places around Bag End Gandalf and Harry moved out to the small bench beside the little green door set in the small hill, staring up into the nighttime sky. They sat there for a few moments silently, wondering how to begin.

"Different stars," Harry said thoughtfully, staring up into the clear sky. "I was never the best at astrology, but even I know that none of these stars have ever graced the nighttime sky of my own home."

"And do you wish to return there?" Gandalkf asked softly.

Harry flinched, the memory of Hermione's dead body, his wounded or killed friends, and what he would face there even with Riddle gone, even with his friends there. "No," he said eventually. "No I don't think so."

Gandalf looked at the young man thoughtfully. There was more than a simple statement there there was grief as well, deep grief. Harry had obviously lost a loved one recently, and wasn't over it at all despite his ability to act and almost seem merry at times. Slowly, he held out his pipe Harry. "You were able to conjure a chair earlier could you make one of these for yourself?"

Harry nodded taking the pipe respectfully, looking it over for a moment, noting how the end looked in particular, which he'd never actually seen before. Then he conjured his own, comparing the two before handing them back.

Solemnly Gandalf filled both pipes with tobacco, holding the conjured pipe out to Harry. "You'll want to breathe in a little bit at first, then breathe out. Don't suck all of the fumes in at once, just breathe in a bit at a time," he began, instructing Harry on how to smoke a pipe. "Pipe weed makes things easier to speak of," he said laying his head back against the outer wall of Bag End, his legs splayed out in front of him.

Harry nodded, leaning back thoughtfully. "So, I suppose given the fact that you're the local here I should start?" he asked after a moment, having coughed only once on the pipe weed, before getting into the rhythm. It was mildly nice he supposed, but not a habit he was going to take up long-term. The dwarven mead though, that was excellent, and Harry realized he would have a lot of trouble keeping himself from becoming an alcoholic if he had access to that every day.

"If you will lad, beauty before age and all that. Though I think we're going to be out here all night. I have questions, but I am certain you have just as many." Gandalf said equably.

"You might say that yes," Harry replied dryly, then after another puff, he began to speak.

End Chapter

This was the winner of the poll here on fanfic, though it lost over on P at R on. I said I would, as mentioned above, try to get this chapter out, and I did! I could have gone on to describe the conversation between Harry and Gandalf but I honestly am uncertain how that will go, the tone of it and how in depth, IE, info-droppy, I want to make it. I also did not want to be bogged down in explanations or unimportant conversations. Harry's abilities and especially ability with his runes will be discussed while on the move, and Harry will in turn learn about dwarves and these fellows in particular as the tale continues in as natural a manner as I can contrive.

Anyway, the poll for April should be up within an hour or so of this chapter being posted. Remember to vote, but if you want more say in what I write, the best way is to go over to my P at R on page.