I am not a Tolkien nor the Rowling.

This was NOT the winner of the small story poll. FILFy won that poll, but with how much trouble I had with Making Waves and losing this past weekend to a RL issue (sick to my stomach, coming and going, not fun) I knew early this week I wouldn't be able to get it done with enough time to send it off to be edited. It's a work that I have made certain is edited most of the time and decided I would rather not post a chapter of it without editing. This story is shorter – by at least 8,000 words LOL – and has also rarely been edited. And with the winner of the large story poll being Horse and the patty on only story being Making Waves, I wanted to update a HP fic. So here you go.

Chapter 8: Into the Woods To…

Harry suspected he was dreaming, but he couldn't quite control the dream like people do once they realize they are in a dream. His mind felt like it was stuck in that odd sort of semi-awake state despite the fact his eyes were wide open taking in the world around him, and that was bothering the heck out of him. Because at the moment, what he could see he was doing, even if he knew he really wasn't, was floating. Floating in the middle of the air, with absolutely nothing around him in any direction beyond more air. Below, well, well below there might have been a distant flash of blue, like an ocean, but that was the only change. There weren't even any birds around.

It was a very strange feeling, to be up so high without a broom underneath him, and with his mind stuck in this semi-aware state. Still, it felt sort of good. Invigorating, almost like being free. Just as that thought moved through his mind, the scenery below began to change, and Harry found himself flying over paradise.

That was the easiest way to describe it. Below him was a land whose owners had merged with it almost, a land of forests, fields, rivers, all of it under a clear blue sky, on a day whose perfection was impossible to contemplate. It was like the greatest summer day, only emphasized to an amazing degree. It was like the sense Harry had gotten when around Lady Galadriel in Rivendell, only even more so.

Among those geographical features were houses, towns and finally, a city. And yet, unlike any such he'd ever seen before, these artificial constructions did not just squat on the land, a part of it yet apart from the surrounding nature. No, these these were part of the land. They looked grown almost rather than been built. White towers, white walls, gleaming in the sunlight here and there with crystal and glass reflecting the glory of the day, all of it flowing past below him too fast for Harry to take in any specific detail. Yet that did not take away from the impact of the vision.

Is this what an Elven city looks like? Harry thought, staring in awe. He knew instinctively no human could have created something so glorious, his race would simply not have had the patience to work with the land to this extent. Dwarves might have had the patience but they would not have done so, their sense of aesthetics not matching what he saw below.

Ahead of Harry high above the city, ran a single peak, tall, taller than tall, taller than even what Harry figured Mount Everest would look like, so tall he wondered if it's peak actually broke through the upper atmosphere, more than half of it covered in eternal snow. Nestled against its roots were more dwellings, including one large castle, Harry could tell it was tall given me people he could see moving around down there. And yet in comparison to the mountain, they were next to nothing. But even the stone of the mountain had been worked by the hands of elves.

And Valar, he supposed, suddenly realizing where he was as he stared at that closer. This must be Valinor, the land beyond the Western Sea. Now that he was looking Harry make out beings of near-perfect spirit here and there, ethereal beings of power moving among the elves and through the air. One or two of them paused to look up at him as he passed, but Harry was past them before he could concentrate on them.

Or should that be my spirit? Yes I think it is my spirit that is here, not my body. And that, that can only be the mountain of Taniquetil that Gandalf mentioned. It is at every bit as imposing as he said it was, and as magnificent, in a cold sort of way, Harry thought, although that last observation did not stay in his mind over long as he grew closer even as the land below him was replaced by the side of the mountain.

Now that he was close enough he could see the green growing on the mountain, the flowers here and there, the designs of the gardens made not to mar the mountain, but to add to its majesty, a little whirl of stone here sticking out of the snow, a little squirrel carved out of a rock face there, an eagle and falcon flying forever captured in stone above a tiny frozen waterfall of breathtaking beauty, it waters falling into a quiet, clear pool far, far below, on the lower side of the snowline. They were random, these touches of magnificent craft, yet that randomness did not take away from the artistry of each piece or the beauty of it all.

Harry felt he could have spent decades simply flying around the mountain, staring at these carvings, taking in their beauty, but even as he thought that, the vision or whatever he was stuck in pulled him upwards, away from the touch of elves and into the area where only the Malar dwelt., Stone disappeared, replaced by eternal snow, no longer marking the mountain here and there but solid white. Here there was no artwork, nor any need. The mountain itself stood as a stark reminder of the Malar's craft and power.

At the top of the Taniquetil, Harry's spirit found an area that looked almost like a Roman temple, with it's walls removed. Instead of walls there were a series of stone columns rising from the ground to hold up a large, circular roof. The stone columns were each carved to hold the representation of a different kind of bird, While at the center was a series of seats set on a raised dais. And there, Harry found the beings who must have called his spirit forth. There were eight seats there, but only four were currently occupied, and given the sheer presence of the four beings sitting there that was more than enough.

In the center was a couple, their chairs set slightly closer than the others to one another. The man seemed to be made of both living skin and bones and the very elements themselves. He wore a raiment of blue like a cloak and toga combined, it's front open down the chest to show not a regular human chest, but cloud, mist and here and there jagged lightning flashed. This immaterial form also sprouted from the back of his elvish looking head, flowing out from the back of the head and the top like a mortal's hair.

But while his face seemed almost mortal, a thing of flesh, with real lips and elven ears, as did his hands up to his shoulders, with thin, dexterous fingers, his eyes were even more alarming than the rest of his visage. Glowing they were, like twin white dwarf stars, their gaze putting the word 'piercing' to shame. On his head right before the flesh faded into his magical form he wore a crown of silver, worked to look like vines but shaped to appear the antlers of a deer, with a thumb-sized blue gem set into the center of the crown.

In contrast to the man, the woman beside him seemed far more…not mortal, but not as odd in her body type, at least at first. She had a much more normal head, with elven ears rising out of dark black hair let loose like a flowing waterfall down her back, and her face was… there was no word for it. Perfection paled. Magnificent just couldn't come close. The gleam in her pale yellow eyes put any other woman to shame. It was as if this woman was the perfect representation of beauty, not just as a whole, but each different aspect taking the concept of beauty to an extreme.

She too wore a robe, covering her from neck to toe. The robe however tossed any kind of normality out the window. It looked like someone had cut a piece of the nighttime sky and made it into a cloak, the ends of it indistinct, while the neck portion was lined with gold.

These no doubt were Manwë and Varda, the Queen and King of Arda and chieftains of the Ainur and Valar. Manwë was firstborn of Eru Illuvitar, the god of this world, and had been placed as king of the other Ainur, lord of winds, weather and birds. Varda was known as the Light, her beauty representing or reflecting (Harry was uncertain which) the glory of the light of the original God.

Next to them were two others, one of whom Harry knew almost instinctively. He was even more mortal-seeming than Varda, although he was a giant of a man, with wide, broad shoulders, and massive muscles visible due to the vest he wore. The Vest looked to be made of scales, as were his pants. He had a long flowing beard of grey and red, to match a wild main of grey and red hair, both of which looked to be touched by ash almost. His face was craggy and burnt here and there, like a smith who had been to close to a fire. Which was probably the truth, although Harry didn't want to know how hot the fire had been to do that to him. His eyes were the fire of magma, breaking the thin veil of mortality the rest of his body tried to give the viewer.

This was Aulë, the Smith. An Ainur just like the couple beside him he was the craftsmen of the group, and the one who had created the dwarves. Thorin had told Harry quite a bit about him and how the dwarves viewed their god.

On Manwë's other side was a fourth spirit and here, while Harry didn't know him, Harry felt he understood the type of person sitting there. He looked almost uncomfortable being there, being still at all perhaps, but certainly sitting in a chair far too small for him, for he was a giant, dwarfing Manwë and Aulë, both in the breath of his shoulders and his height, his upper body massively powerful. He wore only a pair of pants, his skin marked by whorls of yellow and orange energy, which seemed to coalesce in his hands. His eyes too glowed yellow and orange. His hair was actually the most normal thing about him, a golden-blonde color, with a short, well-trimmed beard.

Harry felt their conjoined impact on his mind, overawing him, not purposefully, but simply because they were just too much, too much for his mind to take in, too beyond mortal ken. A part of Harry was telling him he should kneel in prayer to these beings. Yet as his spirit stood in front of them, Harry simply bowed his head respectfully, not in supplication or awe. I'll be damned if I'll kneel to anyone until they've earned it. Whatever the powers in front of him, Harry refused to show that kind of respect or awe.

The man with the blonde hair grinned at that, slamming his hands together and nodding at Harry in turn, as if pleased by Harry's courage. The others simply looked at him for a time, then the the kingly figure finally spoke."Greetings foreign wizard. I am Manwë. This is my hall." As he spoke, some of his presence faded. Not much, but it was clear now the man had reigned in his presence somewhat and was speaking in a way Harry could understand without being overwhelmed.

"Greetings… Lord," Harry said simply, bowing his head once more as he fought to form words. "And I thank you for your greeting, although… why I am here in Ilmarin?"

Manwë acknowledge this with a wry smile, some good humor cracking through the formal façade before he moved on. "I see that Olórin has taught you something or our world already. Yet I call you foreign for you are a stranger in this land in Arda and Eä both. And yet, despite coming from somewhere else, you are a creation of Eru Ilúvatar."

Harry frowned at that, recalling his thoughts on the matter after his talk with Gandalf in Bag End. Wizards had never really gone into the whole reaction myth or even the scientific version of it. But the religious theories he'd heard did seem to have some connection in a fashion to the reality of how Arda had been created. Minus the music and the fourteen lesser musicians of course.

"But we are not here to wonder about how our Eru Ilúvatar has created other worlds without the aid of our songs. Nor did we call you here to simply look upon you. We are here to learn from you. And the first and most important question must be answered now." The king of the Malar leaned forward on his chair, his white dwarf eyes grabbing at Harry's attention and not letting go. "We felt your arrival. We felt your arrival and that which with you fought. We know what you traversed to come to our world, and we let you in willingly. Yet I must ask, did you see anything else while in that nothingness. Did you meet with anyone else?" With the last question he let loose his powers once more and somehow his attention seemed to harden even more.

"What… do… you… mean?" Harry asked, his thoughts moving sluggishly still. Part of it was the sheer wonder and impact of the people in front of him, the area this was happening in. The rest, he wasn't certain about.

Varda instantly seemed to understand what was going on and she stood up and moved forward. She then raised a hand and gently touching Harry's forehead directly on his lightning bolt scare, before pulling her hand away. Some of Harry's sluggishness instantly disappeared.

Aulë spoke now up as the woman returned to her place among them without a word, his words almost casual in comparison to the words of Manwë. "Basically, what you and that thing you fought was come through between worlds. That area we call the Void, or the Abyss. It is beyond, a place of darkness and nothingness, ever outside the light of the everlasting lifeforce where life can dwell. And you shouldn't have been able to find the doorway we were… compelled… to let you through. The theory we all believed to be fact before your arrival was that no one could enter the Void and travel from one world to another, if even there were any other creations like Eä out there, which we again did not know for fact until you arrive. A being simply wouldn't be able to see any kind of path from one world to another without the Flame Imperishable that Eru Ilúvatar carries within him. Anyone who entered the Void would either have to come out where they entered, retracing their path somehow, or they wouldn't be coming out at all."

"But your arrival threw that theory out the window. Out this window specifically," the blacksmith finished dryly, pointing out beyond the columns of stone that barely separated the outside world from Ilmarin. "That's not good. It's not good at all."

"So we must ask again, did you meet or see anyone, anything else while in that nothingness?" said the last figure, his face broken into a grin. "And I must say Harry Potter, that was a magnificent entrance! HAHAHAHHAH, a worthy battle, strength against strength and the one with the greatest willpower winning!"

Now with his mind cleared of whatever had been causing his mind to be so slow Harry understood what they were worried about. "You're worried about that Morgoth creature that Gandalf mentioned. I thought he was dead, imprisoned there, unable to leave, to fade away and die."

"High spirits like us do not die as you understand the term Harry Potter. But yes we are worried about Melkor."

Flashing images then entered Harry's head as the original name of the Ainur in question was used. The first murder, the war against the elves that he would have eventually won, save for a single half-human, and his courage in riding beyond the seas to ask for aid. His attempt to take over the music of the Ainur. Horror upon horror flashed through Harry's brain, but only images with no emotions or feelings connecting them, because if there had been, Harry was certain he would've been driven mad with fear terror and grief.

But it was enough, the images finishing the work Gandalf's words had begun to give him an image of the one who had been the father of darkness in this world. Sauron might have been a lot of trouble for the elves and humans, but in comparison to Melkor he was nothing! Makes Riddle look like a kindergarten bully in comparison, if that.

Harry's thoughts on that subject were read by the people in front of him, and the warrior actually chuckled. "Indeed, even the darkness that was left behind, which the elves apparently haven't dealt with as completely as we would've liked, is but a patch on that greater darkness."

"I…" Harry paused, a scowl on his spirit's face. His memories of his fight against Riddle in that nothing place were disjointed, dominated by what the two of them were doing rather than anything else and looking back, he knew it. "I do not, that is, I don't think so, but I can't tell you for certain. All I saw, or remember seeing was Riddle, his darkness somehow standing out against the Void around us. Like a bit of shiny black surface on a matte black background, with only his eyes and our spells really standing out. When we could use them anyway."

He steeled himself then looked at the four beings firmly. "If you have some way to view my memories, I would volunteer to allow you to, if that is what you want."

The four spirits looked at one another, then Manwë gestured Harry forward. "Want does not come into it, but we must be certain. This will not be pleasant, but it will not cause you permanent harm. Do not worry." Manwë actually smiled suddenly, showing a wry sense of humor that reminded Harry rather strongly of Gandalf for a moment. "For such as you, here by chance, surely there is the hand of Eru Ilúvatar himself in that. And I would rather not interfere with something of His design."

As his wife chuckled at that and the two male Ainur grunted agreement, Manwë touched Harry's forehead with three fingers, placing the tips of them around Harry's scar rather than on it for some reason as Varda had a moment before. That seemed to be significant, but then Harry's mind was washed away by the memories, such as they were, of the fight against Riddle in that nothing place. It didn't last for more than a second, but it felt like eternity, as it had when he had lived through that time, and it was quite painful, his wounds flaring up in turn with the memories of their creation.

The spirit pulled his hand away, his lips pressed against one another grimly as Harry collapsed, spasming, his teeth gritted in pain. "My search is inconclusive. For all his magical power, our new friend Harry is but a human mortal in his mind with a mortal's senses. If Melkor wanted to hide from such, he would have been able to easily. I saw no hint of his presence, yet that just means that Harry Potter saw no hint."

There was power felt then, as Manwë once more spoke the name of his brother-turned-enemy. Power and hate, lots and lots of hate, a feeling like danger just out of sight. Then the four spirits all waved their hands as one, shaking their heads and the warrior, who had not yet been introduced, spoke. "You see Harry Potter? Even when his name is used here in Ilmaren, there is a power to it, a danger. While he might have sunk lower than any Ainur should have, he had also gained power in the doing. If he should ever return…"

"I would fight against him," Harry growled, pushing himself to his feet angrily. Whatever Manwë had done had not only been painful but caused him to be weary beyond belief, but he would meet any challenge on his feet, not on his knees.

"Would you?" Varda asked sharply, her tone not condemning, simply a warning. "Even after seeing him in all his majesty? Few mortal men have done that, and none have met good ends."

"How could I not?" Harry growled back, the steel in his voice audible to all four Valar. "I have thought evil before, I have fought madness! Yes, yours enemy is greater than any I could have ever faced on a scale I cannot even fathom. But that does not mean that I will simply stand aside, that I will surrender!" Harry would normally not speak like this, but those images, especially the glimpse of what had happened to Beren the mortal man and Luthein the Fair, had infuriated him and angered him just as much is it had touched him with fear.

That impressed the four Valar, and they all nodded. "I believe you Harry Potter," said Manwë, shaking his head. "If all humans felt so and had the will to see it done, this world would be a much nicer place."

"Perhaps," said Aulë and the warrior as one, before laughing quietly and the warrior-like Valar going on to speak for them both. "You put too much emphasis on the human's attempt to fight the darkness. You forget that Morgoth created his own armies. Humans were but a small portion of his force. More stood against him."

"I forget nothing," Manwë replied simply. "I was speaking of Akallabêth and the hubris of Numenor wrought by the words of Sauron, not the greater evil of Morgoth."

Aulë and the other spirit suddenly nodded, looking chastened. It fit them poorly however and the warrior-like Valar shrugged it off quickly, gesturing to Harry. "So what do we do with this one? He has been using magic, magic of a nature and in such a manner that even one of us would have trouble forming. And you know it is costing him."

Harry stiffened in alarm. "What? What is it costing me?"

"Surely you've noticed," the woman said shaking her head. "Your spells, sometimes they fight you do they not?"

Harry nodded. "I've felt that, it's forced me to change my tactics a time or two. But I thought it was just the creation of elements or the manipulation of them that was against the rules of this world or however you want to put it, and the pressure Orcs and even goblins put on magic users around them."

"It is not. There are certain laws of Arda, and one of them is the use of magic and how it might enter the world. The more you use your magic, the more the Arda will start to reject that magic because you are not a Valar. You might keep your, what you do call them? Your pure attack spells and your illusion spells. But your ability to create will fade, your ability to transfigure will diminish horribly, and not just when fighting the creatures of Morgoth that now look to he who is called Sauron now," Manwë explained, looking at Harry with her luminous eyes. "To combat this loss, you will have to choose one of us to follow, to learn from as it were."

"Wait what?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Magic in this world comes from us, from the Ainur and the Maia. It does not come from mortal individuals. Your power is slowly going to start disappearing from what you call your magical reserves out into Arda each time you use your magic. Unless you decide on one of us to follow. If you do that, the Valar in question will serve as a conduit, in order for your magics to no longer drain you."

"How many years do I have before I have to make this decision?" Harry asked frowning. He'd felt some fight back when he used a few spells, but not much. He didn't honestly think it was as big a deal as these guys were making out to be, but standing in front of them, that did not seem like something he should say. "And what would this choice entail?"

"That is a better question, as we do not know the answer to the first one. It could be as long as years, or as few as months. But eventually, your spells will fail you. You will still have magical power within you, but the world will suck it dry the instant you try to use it beyond your body," Manwë replied sadly. "I am sorry, but that is the way Arda is made. Yet following one of the Valar is not so onerous. You will not be forced to obey orders or teachings. Not really. It is simply a way to open you to the world, a way for you to become a part of Arda rather than still remain separate."

Scowling Harry shook his head. "Will my choice effect the spells I am able to do?"

"Somewhat. You'll still have your full breath of spells, but if you call upon us while using a spell that would impact that Valar's realm of influence, they will be stronger and faster."

There began what Harry could only call a sales pitch. The warrior-like Valar began it, stepping forward with a laugh, slapping Harry on his ethereal shoulder so hard it actually hurt, and nearly drove Harry to his knees. Only the fact that the warrior had obviously not intended to do so allowed Harry to keep his temper.

"Call upon me!" he shouted, slamming his that same into his chest so hard it sounded like someone had slammed a battering ram into rock face. "I am Tulkas! It was I who threw down Morgoth not once, but twice! Our battles remade the world. I am the last guardian, he who is called upon in the darkest hour. You have faced your darkest hour at an age when no human should have, you are worthy to call upon me."

"No!" Aulë bellowed in reply, also coming forward. "With your power of creation and change, with your friendship with my own race the dwarves, you are clearly closer to my sphere than that of Tulkas! You have only ever fought out of necessity, so to do my people. And when we go about it, we do so as a blacksmith would upon metal! Power, force, no mercy and no relief. My pride comes in my craft, my magic, and what I will leave behind, not warfare."

"You have already met one of Aulë's followers, and one of mine," Manwë said with a smile. "Saruman has always looked to Aulë, that is why his hands are so crafty, his works of art and mind so amazing at times. But my favored follower is Olórin, who you call Gandalf. A traveler, a wanderer of the world, who speaks both of life and death, and always, always sees more than he lets on. Yet I feel you do not look to me or my aspects."

Harry shook his head. "I like to travel I suppose, even though I've never really done it before coming to this world. But, that's not how I see myself. Flight interests me a lot too, but again, I don't define myself from that ability."

The woman said nothing, simply looking at Harry before shaking her head. Still she didn't speak, but there was no arrogance in that choice, rather it was a decision she had made on Harry's behalf. How he knew that, Harry didn't know, but he did.

Her husband chuckled, shaking his head as he gestured with his seemingly mortal hand to the other two beings. "So which of these two will you choose?"

Falling silent for a second, Harry finally asked, "I don't mean to be rude but are you my only choices in this matter?"

Manwë laughed, as did the woman the sound sending a shiver of shocked awe through him, as if suddenly every other laugh he had heard had been turned into a pale imitation, although the other two spirits scowled lightly before joining them. "No indeed," Manwë said gaily, shaking her head. "There are other spirits, I spirits that you can speak to. Why? It looks as if you have an idea of the sort of high spirit that you would truly call upon."

Harry looked at Aulë. "You're right in a way, I do take pride in my transfiguration and conjurations skills, but to me that's a means to an end, not an end itself. I'm not an artist, I'm not a craftsman."

He looked at Tulkas. "And I'm not a warrior either, not like how you mean the word. I don't take pleasure in it, I don't fight for the sake of fighting. For the sake of challenging myself. I fight to defend others, I fight to throw back the dark." Harry had no idea why he'd said that last sentence, but it felt right, and he repeated it for second, looking around at them. "Is there one who has always stood in a defense against the dark itself? Not just the greater enemy, but the very darkness he brought to this world?"

There was a moment of hesitance, the four spirits looking at one another and finally the main spirit spoke. "There is," he said with a sigh. "Arien. The maiden of sunlight has always stood against he who was our brother. Even before his darkness was known to everyone else, she disdained him even as he pursued her most fervently, the only fire spirit to never follow him. She burned him at one point and then was chosen to guide Anar as it ascended into the sky to give this world light once more after the destruction of the Two Trees. But Arien will take no follower. That is not her nature. Come close to her, and you will be burned. Even Ainur like we cannot do so."

Harry shrugged. "At the moment, that, that feels as if it should be my choice, but I won't make this decision so quickly."

"I warn you once more Harry Potter, none of us can tell you how long your magic will last. It will not be quick. It might be in a few months, it might be in more than a year But there will come a time that, added to the difficulty of using spells in the presence of Morgoth's creations, your magic will fail you," Manwë warned once more.

Harry nodded at the main spirits words, but said "I thank you for the warning, but I won't be forced to make a harsh decision like this. Not without all the facts."

The spirit nodded, then looked up, as did the others. The woman smiled, and it was a smile of warmth, loving almost like a favorite teacher seeing a pupil succeed at something as did Manwë who spoke once more. "You are being called back Harry Potter. Go, with our blessing."

With that, Harry felt as if a rope had wrapped around his spirit and was slowly drawing him back with all the unstoppable force of gravity. It wasn't painful, but it was inexorable.

As he flew, he heard the musical words in his head of a woman, a woman that he had met in the real world. "The Ainur often forget what impact their calls can have on the mortal mind. No human has been able to go to Valinor and return Harry, not without help. And so it falls upon me to call you back. Unless you wish to stay?"

The tug on Harry's soul stayed a moment, and Harry smiled as he realized it was the voice of Galadriel, the elven Lady who had so affected him in Rivendell. At that realization Galadriel's spirit appeared in front of him then, and Harry had to gasp at the sight. He had thought her beautiful in the flesh, but in spirit, that was magnified dozens of times over. It was as if a veil had been lifted, allowing the true light within her to shine free. Her raiment was silver, her spirit made of gold, and a star of purest white glowed from one hand, its light amplified in her eyes. If Varda had been perfection beyond the ken of mortal men, Galadriel was just close enough to be understood, and thus even more beautiful for that understanding.

The Lady of Lothlorien smiled at him and it was like the sun coming up over the horizon, filling Harry to the brim with energy as she spoke, one hand rising to touch his forehead.

"Despite the longevity your magical power will force upon your being you are still mortal up here, Harry. This is not a denigration of your character, simply a fact. And this place has never been kind on those who in the normal course of things have a finite time in Middle Earth." The spirits fingers brushed against his scar, which glowed at her touch magnifying the touch of Varda from before.

"I thank you for the offer my lady, but I do wish to go back and I thank you for your aid in doing so," Harry said firmly, nodding his head gratefully to her. "It was, seeing all this was fantastically glorious, but it was like a painting, not enough life there, I think not for a human anyway. Besides, even if it is the equivalent of my world's heaven, Hermione and my other friends wouldn't be there for me. And there is still my promise to Thorin, my friendships here in this new world to see to."

Galadriel nodded understanding, but then leaned forward, taking his head in her hands, and kissing him lightly over the same place she had just touched, his lightning bolt scar.

A sense of thrumming power and well-being filled him, as her voice intoned in his head. "I think you choose wisely Harry Potter. There is much for you to still do still accomplish, to still see. Joy sadness, laughter hope, grief. All this you have before you."

She pulled back, staring into his eyes as an image formed in his mind, of a forest, deep, vast, untouched by man, where elves had dwelled for millennia. "I repeat my last offer, Harry Potter, offering once more a thing I have never offered to mortal man before: come to my home in Lothlorien when you are finished with Oakenshield's quest. We will finish your healing Harry Potter, and I will make you understand that this life indeed is one worth living for its own sake instead of for others."

Harry stared, and continued staring as they flew through the air back to what Harry knew to be Middle Earth and where his body had been left behind, and he finally nodded. "I will" he said, his tone firm, a promise now as he made his decision. "I will."

Galadriel spirit smiled at him, her own spirit in turn flowing into the raiment of the elf that she was in real life, disappearing from his mind. And then Harry was back in his own body. He knew it somehow, even without moving, but for a moment all he could do was stare at his own eyelids, before his other senses started to register.

The smell of a meal finished the job of waking him up, and he blinked, turning his head slightly to either side. He was in a bed, a bed stuffed against one wall and which was truly huge, fit for someone of Hagrid's size, let alone Harry, who though a fit young man would never be broad or overly tall.

Now that he could finally concentrate enough to make his ears work, and nearby he heard the voices of the dwarves. Turning his head in that direction, he saw the dwarves at table with Gandalf and Bilbo. And walking around them was a giant of a man, perhaps larger than Hagrid if barely. He was certainly as shaggy, with a massive beard, long, thick hair, and eyebrows. His clothes were simple, but well-made, and he moved lightly on his feet.

But what really grabbed Harry's attention was the food, and the glasses of what could be mead that was being passed around. Feeling a empty cave where his stomach should be Harry hopped to his feet lightly and moved in their direction, putting his arm over one of the dwarves shoulders and grabbing his tankard, ignoring the indignant shout of 'Here now!' as he pulled it over the dwarf's head and drained half of the flag before slamming it down. "That was good! Is there room for another at this table? And who is the giant? Bloody hell, he looks as big as Hagrid!"

Getting over their shock at his sudden revival, the dwarves and Bilbo all shouted in relieved welcome at Harry's recovery save for Fili, who's mead he'd stolen. He elbowed Harry most viciously in the ribs before joining in the welcome "Yes, yes, hello all, how have you all been? What've I missed, and, wait, Bilbo? You're alive?!"

Bilbo chuckled wryly. "It is good to see you up and about as well." The dwarves thumped their fists on the table in agreement, ignoring for a moment there host, who was also staring at Harry, his eyes narrowed in consideration.

He pulled back from Bilbo, and turned to the man, sending a grin towards Thorin before bowing formally to the man. "Your pardon good sir, but when I was unconscious, Bilbo was still lost to us and seeing him here surprised me."

"As your sudden wakefulness surprised us all," Gandalf said dryly causing a chuckle around the room as Gandalf stared at the younger man in thought.

"Indeed," the man said, studying Harry closely before he smiled. "These dwarves were giving me a tale and had just reached the point where you had collapsed, so your timing on that score is excellent. Yet before the tail can begin, might I ask, you mentioned someone called Hagrid. Was he truly as big as me?"

"I would say so. I don't know what Gandalf's told about me, but where I come from, let us just say that where I come from our giants are not like the Giants here things of stone and spirit. And at one point, somehow a human man won giantess's affection."

There were many crossed eyes at that, and the man asked hesitantly "how would that even…"

"I don't know, but however it was done, the *ahem* physical side of things did indeed work. The result was Hagrid, a giant of a man, who was the call it the groundskeeper what is a very much a misnomer. He was a man of the forest, friends to most animals. He could walk up to a unicorn and not have it run away, he tried to look after a small dangerous lizard that briefed fire… not a dragon," Harry hastened to add, "not like you understand the term anyway. But he also had a three headed dog, giant spiders, and looked after a sea monster and others."

"Amazing if true. And even if not at least it is a fun tale," the man muttered, smiling now. He gestured Harry into a chair to try and find a chair, frowning as he realized there was none. "I would invite you to sit Harry Potter, and tell me more about this Hagrid before we get back to the dwarves tale but…"

"Allow me," Harry said, waving his hand as he used a transfiguration spell. A nearby heavy stool became a chair and Harry then moved over and dragged it to the table.

The man stared at the chair he'd just conjured, then boomed laughter. "Truly you wizards, such interesting tricks you sometimes have. But now sit, sit, and you will have food and I in return, I will have your tale!"

Harry nodded, sliding into the chair he'd conjured at the corner of the table as the dwarves made room for them at the table. As he did, he frowned slightly, remember the words of Manwë and the others, before shrugging them off. He had at least a few months before he would have to worry about them, and a dragon to slay. No way could he get away with husbanding his spells before that.

He bumped elbows with Fili, and with Gloin on the other, smiling around him as he thought where to begin. "First of all, I suppose I'll say that Hagrid in many ways was my first real friend. He saved me from, well let us not get into what he saved me from. That is not a tale to tell at a meal. But he was a man of the forest as I said and one time he and I…"

Harry told of the times he'd met with Hagrid, about the forbidden forest and his way with dangerous animals, which he seemed to think were just misunderstood. He told them about the unicorn he had helped save with Hagrid and how Hagrid had given him Hedwig, although when Harry spoke of his familiar, Harry's face slowly closed down. He missed her more than a bit, but knew he would never see Hedwig again, not with that strange Void between his world and this one. Even Hedwig couldn't cross that.

Their host saw the look in his face, and correctly interpreted it to mean the happy parts of Harry's past interactions with this half giant was coming to a close. He raised his flagon then his voice, saying aloud, "That is enough of your own tale Harry Potter. We will switch shift to the dwarves now. As fascinating as your adventures no doubt are even beyond this half-giant friend of yours, I must know more about the doings of the goblins for they border my own domain. But first, to friends passed on."

"To friends passed on," the dwarves and Harry and Gandalf joining in, their deep voices a dirge. Then Thorin added "And to justice and vengeance!"

Here the dwarves roared even louder than they had a moment ago, fury and anger in their tones driving out remembered grief and Harry just nodded, raising his stein again. Gandalf did not, nor did their host although he smiled grimly.

After that, Gandalf and Thorin finished the story about how they had escaped the goblins, with Gandalf glancing once or twice at Bilbo, but becoming distracted by Harry's parts of the battle, and the effects of the last spell he'd used to bring down the massive stalactite which had smashed Goblin Town as it fell. He could sense something in Harry, something that said he had changed somewhat during his convalescence.

Hearing how Dori had carried him all day, Harry rose to his feet and clasped forearms with the silver-haired dwarf. "I thank you for that Dori, and I am sorry to have been such a burden. I promise I will pay you back for your sweat and toil."

Dori flushed, looking away. "Bah, just continue to help us reclaim our lost realm and I will call it even Harry."

The discussion turned to the route the party would take from here on. With the news that Radagast had told them about Mirkwood, all the dwarves and Bilbo were very concerned about entering it at all. Even Gandalf was somewhat worried about that.

The large man's words somewhat put them at ease. "The routes from here to Mirkwood will be clear at the very least," he said, moving around and refilling their glasses, this time with some kind of milk drink, rather than the meat of earlier. Perhaps, that was because a few of the dwarves had insulted it? Harry hadn't, he had simply said any 'mead in a storm', but that didn't seem to have made Beorn wish to be any more hospitable.

"No goblins or orcs will enter my territory, not so long as I draw breath. I will even lend you some of my donkeys, but I will demand that you leave them at the edge of the forest. They will return to me on their own from there."

Thorin frowned at that, but slowly nodded. "The supplies will be greatly helpful thank you. And I deeply apologize that we have no way to repay your kindness and hospitality now."

Harry held up a hand, "Unless you have something you want repaired, or created?" Whatever was going on with his magic Harry wasn't going to let it stop him from using his magic as he saw fit.

Beorn smiled at him, shaking his head. "No, anything of that nature I will see to with my own hand and craft. Thank you for the offer however."

"Might I trouble you for a longer loan of one of your beasts, Beorn? I will not be taking it into Mirkwood, do not fear, but the use of a donkey would aid me in my journey." Gandalf inquired.

At that Harry blinked and pulled his attention from his food in the first time in a while, having let the others carry the conversation. Looking at the older man he scowled a little, remembering that Gandalf planned to leave them. Thorin too nearly glared at the older wizard. Harry had told him in turn about this, but he hadn't really believed Gandalf would leave them in the lurch.

The other dwarves didn't even have that and now shouted in shock and dismay. Gandalf was forced to give them a half-truth: that he was concerned about the darkness coming from the south of Mirkwood and had decided to investigate it and the Necromancer. I feel that the longer we wait to investigate him, the more powerful he becomes. We must know more."

"And if he's really there?" Harry asked. "And waiting for you?"

Thorin too spoke up now, keeping his voice even, analytical. "He's right Gandalf. If you do not wish to spend the time it will take us to get to the Lonely Mountain, that is one thing. But surely you could call upon one of your fellow wizards to accompany you?"

"The only one that could possibly meet me near Dol Goldur in any acceptable timeframe is Radagast, and only then if he felt so certain in his own abilities that he returned to his home rather than doing the more intelligent thing and moving elsewhere. I could call upon the Rangers, but none of them are close." Gandalf sighed, shaking his head slowly. "Something is telling me that I must do this soon, and so it will be done."

Looking at his eyes, Harry saw resolve there, a stern, hard, unyielding resolve. Leaning back in his own chair, Harry retreated from the argument. "Fine, I won't stop you. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you go off with just your staff and sword. How long does it take to get to the edge of Mirkwood from here?" he asked looking at Beorn.

He had been silent throughout the short conversation with Gandalf, but he spoke up now looking at the two wizards thoughtfully. "If I give you ponies, it will take you but a half days ride. They are swift beasts as well as intelligent."

"That'll give me time…" Harry paused, then smacked his palm into his forehead groaning. "Bloody hell, my rune stones and my carving set! We lost them over the side of the trail."

"What are these runestones you speak of?"

"Simple flat granite stones for the most part, although the harder the substance it's made up the better. Some weaker material sometimes works and sometimes doesn't, it depends on what you're trying to do," Harry said authoritatively. "But stone is the best or like this.. I want to create what I call Notice-Me-Not arrays which Gandalf cand use to hide his presence, or a shield stone, although that would be a one off spell in all likelihood."

Beorn's eyes had widened as Harry explained. "Amazing, I did not know that magic could be so stored. I have granite rocks, and I can make them into slabs for you," he intoned slowly, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "if you would create something of that nature for me."

"What do you need? If you have a set of carving tools and the stone, I can do the rest."

"I would like something to hide my house from aught at need. Can you create a magical armor?"

"I haven't worked with steel before," Harry said shaking his head. "I could make you up in one shot shield array as I said, but it would be only good for a limited time before the magic in the array destroys the stone."

To one side Thorin was silent. Magical armor was one area where his people's rune smiths had excelled in ancient times. Now their work was a pale imitation of what it had been, so much so that many dwarves now believed it had been the material used rather than the magic which had made their armor so formidable. Yet even if that hadn't been the case, Thorin would never have commented on it now. Beorn was a practical stranger, for all that he was aiding them at the moment, and he would not share his people's secrets so quickly as Harry was willing to share his.

Breaking him of that habit is going to be an uphill struggle, Thorin thought ruefully. Still, at least this time he is getting proper reimbursement for it.

Harry had continued speaking. "I can create a Notice-me-not array around your house, and key you into it, even if you don't have any magic of your own, that's simple enough. But I have no idea if that'll affect the beasts. I might need a bit of their blood just as I will yours to connect you all into it."

At the mention of blood Beorn frowned fighting against the fear of the unknown that all right-thinking folk held, looking over at Gandalf, who nodded in affirmation. At that, Beorn agreed. "A bit of blood is no small sacrifice to make for this.

"Then show me these granite stones, and your etching equipment, stones and I'll get to work right away," Harry said, pushing himself away from the table, his plate empty of even crumbs. He had been intensely hungry, but even with that he hadn't eaten nearly as much as the dwarves and Bilbo.

Beorn smiled and slapped Harry on the shoulder so hard he nearly sent him sprawling into the table, then with a booming laugh moved towards Thorin. Follow me then young wizard! I am eager to see this craft of yours."

The shape-shifter did watch for a time, but after a bit, as Harry worked slowly to reshape his stone working tools by hand and then to smooth and chip the stones into spherical shapes, realized that anything of interest was a few hours in the future. After all, there was a reason an etching set was so expensive, the tools had to be very precise, each of them a specific size because the lines of the various runes had to be equally precise. The surface of the stone too had to be smooth, and no magic could be used in the smoothing, or else there would be interference when it came time to instill magic into the array.

Later, as Harry was working Gandalf came up to him. The dwarves had all split off to do various things, fletching arrows in the case of Bilbo and Kili, mending rents in clothing and such for most of the others. Oin and Bofur had gone off to examine the animals, and a few others were with Oin trying to see what ingredients they had. Thorin too was elsewhere, speaking with Beorn about the goblins and other similar threats. The two of them were very formal, almost cool to one another, but they had a mutual enemy, and that was enough.

Gandalf had been with them and then with Oin and his band for a time, but now he came over to Harry. He watched the younger man work for a time, smiling faintly. For all that they seemed to dislike one another, Harry and Saruman are actually quite alike in how they enjoy craft and learning of such.

That had never been Gandalf's way. It was people and places which interested the Grey wanderer. And that was why he knew that Harry had not just been unconscious. No, his spirit had been temporarily called elsewhere, and now he was dying of curiosity as to why. So he sat across from the young man and looked at him thoughtfully. "Something has changed within you Harry. I can feel it."

"Meeting your Malar tends to do that to one," Harry replied not looking up from his work. "They seemed to somehow sense my unconsciousness and used that as an opportunity to call me forth."

"I had thought they might. There would be many questions even for Manwë as to how you arrived here. And your magics too, they would both fascinate and startle them. Creation from nothing is…" Gandalf shook his head. "That is nothing that any save Eru Ilúvatar himself should do."

"I was told that, yes. And that to keep using my power, I would need to find a patron among them, to, to somehow filter my power through into the world beyond my body."

"And did you choose Aulë?" Gandalf asked. In his mind it was either the smith, or Yavanna, the Earth mother that called to Harry. At least from what Gandalf had seen of the young man so far.

"No. Oh, he and I do have a certain connection, but even my work with runes is a means to an end for me. I do not create them just for the sake of creation. That might change in the future when I meet these Rune-smiths of the dwarves though," he laughed. "That is one area where humans have elves and dwarves beat, we can change far quicker or be as stubborn to change too."

Gandalf chuckled too, then asked, "Who then? Call it professional courtesy but I am most curious."

Harry frowned, but eventually nodded. "The sun spirit Arien seemed to be my first choice. I, when I heard of her, and her private war with Morgoth, who had twisted all other fire Maia, it seemed appropriate. Or at any rate, I told them I would pledge to her. That was enough. They will get in contact with her, and Arien will in turn see if she is interested or reject me. I don't know if she will be, but…" he frowned, looking at Gandalf, repeating his earlier words. "It felt right. Just like this mission of feels right to you."

"Valinor is very conducive to opening one to such feelings," the older man intoned with a chuckle.

"That's doesn't mean I agree with your choice Gandalf," Harry said firmly, thrusting a finished protective shield array up at the man. "You will be taking this and two more like it along with a Notice-Me-Not array that you can set up by pumping a little energy into it. You do know how to do that don't you?"

"There's no need to be stroppy," Gandalf said huffily, taking the stone and looking at it before going on more softly. "Thank you for this Harry, and for the feelings behind it.

"The great irritation, the disapproval, the annoyance?" Harry asked lightly, looking away.

"No, the friendship and affection," Gandalf retorted, shaking his head wearily and then ruffling Harry's ever-messy hair. "You might hide it my friend, but when you connect to someone, you do so most fiercely."

'I've lost too many friends Gandalf, to do otherwise," Harry whispered, still looking away, causing Gandalf to slowly nod his head.

The parties stayed there for the rest of that day, and that night, during which Bilbo was woken up by shuffling noises outside. They were the noises of a giant beast moving around, a bear perhaps, or something larger.

Nearby Harry, who had not gone to sleep yet stood up, but Gandalf shook his head sharply from where he had been leaning against the wall by doorway. "Back to sleep young Bilbo, and Harry, you need not worry," he whispered. "That is our host. No doubt he and his… his pack let us call it, will be moving up into the mountain see if they can find any truth to our story. There is nothing out there we need to see."

Staring at Thorin and hearing the noises, Harry slowly nodded. "In that case, I think I would best serve us by finishing the work he requested."

Harry was still at work early the next morning, although he didn't show any sign of tiredness. Indeed he still felt rested and almost buzzing with energy from his out of body experience. And through the night he had finished all the stones he wanted to give Gandalf, and much of the work on the arrays for Beorn. Each of the men would have four shield arrays, although given the fact he could empower them himself, the ones Gandalf had could be reused.

Similarly Gandalf had one Notice-Me-Not Array, while Beorn had four. Those four were subtly different than the one Gandalf used just like the shield stones, needing to have a built in power accumulator rather than a short timed charge, but once Beorn and his beasts gave a bit of their blood to the arrays, they would be the next best thing to permanent, since unlike the shields, a Notice-Me-Not was not a very magically intensive spell, and could take power from the world around them.

Harry had also finished a few for the party itself, although not many shield stones. Beorn's granite supply was not infinite after all. But once more, their camps would be safe at night, at least from nonmagical threats.

The young wizard was putting the finishing touches on Beorn's last array around midmorning and didn't look up when someone came across the room towards him, sitting across from him. He didn't have to. Harry had long gotten used to the different trends of the dwarves, and even Gandalf. Bilbo Harry couldn't actually hear, so had not gotten used to.

Only when he finished with a final finicky line of one rune did he look up, locking his emerald eyes on Thorin's light blue. "Are you still concerned about my sharing my secrets?" he quipped.

"No," Thorin chuckled. "I could wish that you were more secretive with your designs, but if you kept them to yourself with a friend going into danger you would not be who you are. In the future however lad, I think I will demand that someone at least accompany you whenever you are out and about in the world, to make certain that you get your money's worth before you start coming over with largess."

Harry laughed in reply before turning back to his work while Thorin continued to watch. Now that they were alone however, more needed to be said. "You gave me one hell of a scare. I didn't let on to the others of course, I have a reputation and my position to uphold. Yet the kind of crack you took, I've seen humans be crippled for life from less."

Harry nodded again. "Yes, well I'm a bit tougher than I look. But I meant what I said to Dori. I will repay his carrying me as he did." Harry's tone might have been airy, but his look was not. It had been a very long time since Harry was that helpless, but he still remembered the years with the Dursleys, where all he could do was simply go along to get along, having no power over himself or his life, when he had no way to look after or defend himself. The circumstances were entirely different admittedly, but the feelings that it invoked was not.

"As you yourself would say Potter, between friends, there is no such talk of debt for acts like that," Thorin replied, a statement that would have shocked many of his fellows, although it had to be said by this point, none in the party would have been so shocked.

Finishing another line, Harry looked up, one eyebrow quirking in query. "How likely is it that the goblins or orcs will come this way again? I'm just wondering if I should do something a little extra for Beorn in order to inconvenience them further."

"Inconveniencing those creatures is never a bad plan, and very likely. You saw the city, Goblin Town, they called it," Thorin barked a low laugh. "Ramshackle it might've been, but it was large. Even if that last spell of yours destroy the town and much of the population with it, that was but one mountain stronghold. Thorin gestured to behind him towards the mountains they had crossed. "Who knows how many of those mountains are filled with such fell folk."

Harry nodded for the third time that morning, and then both of them looked up as Gandalf appeared, moving through the still sleeping dwarves. Before he could speak though, Harry beat him to it. "And after a good night's sleep do you still going on with this bad plan separate from us?"

Gandalf scoffed. "Yes I am. And perhaps you do not realize this Harry, but I am quite an old man. I have walked more leagues than you have hairs on your head. I can look after myself."

"I'm not doubting your ability to look after yourself Gandalf. I just think everyone needs someone to watch their back."

"Yes well, you convinced me on that score. I already sent a message to Radagast, and to Elrond telling him of my plan," Gandalf replied, more to allay Harry's concerns than anything else. "While Radagast is no fighter, he is more forest smart and aware of the world around him than most would think."

Harry grunted, looking down critically at one rune then nodding, and setting the array aside just

As Thorin to the outside opened, and Beorn came in, smiling happily at them all. "Well now," he boomed, his voice waking the dwarves sleep and Bilbo from his little layer in the rafters. he tumbled to the floor, but he landed on his feet, and headed his bow drawn as Harry blinked in surprise, not having noticed that Bilbo had climbed up one of the rafters, and had perched up there, sleeping on it as if it was a tree limb after he had been woken up in the middle of the night.

The dwarves stared at him, as did Beorn, and then as Bilbo sheepishly rose, they all laughed, with Bombur clapping him on the shoulder. "That's our scout!"

"Did you have a particular reason for your shout, or do you just dislike people sleeping and taking up your home like this heading into midmorning?" Balin asked, somewhat appalled at how late they had all slept.

"No, that was only part of it." Beorn slammed his hands together, so loudly that Harry thought almost that he had somehow conjures spell to add to the noise. "And yet, it is a magnificent day to be up and about my friends. And I call you friends now, true and done! Well done indeed, for I have been listening through my creatures, large and small, and I am not without my own abilities to gather information. Goblins were about on my side of the river they were, but full of fear, easily driven off. And the words on their lips?"

Again Beorn bellowed in laughter. "Goblin Town destroyed, no more than rubble remaining! The Great Goblin dead! The Great Goblin! It will be many decades before the goblins of the Misty mountains are as organized again to be a true threat. All you said to me last night was revealed to be simple truth!" He shook his shaggy mane his laughter quieting. "I had feared you were all not lying but exaggerating, especially in terms of the death of the Great Goblin. That you were enemies to the goblins I believed, but such deadly enemies?!" He laughed again, looking over at Harry. "It makes me almost sad that I demanded such payment from you wizard, But I'll not take that back now. Even if the need has passed somewhat, it will come again."

Harry shrugged, gesturing down to the smaller pile of finished runestones. "I finished your runestones last night. But if you recall, I said you'd need…"

"The blood of each of my animals and myself, yes you said. Are you ready for that aspect of your work now?"

When Harry replied in the affirmative, Beorn gestured Harry to come with him. Outside Beorn led him from one animal to another, gently nicking her ear lightly, before bandaging the tiny wounds up, and then dropping a bit of blood onto each stone in turn. Each drop was absorbed quickly into the stone, an effect that was part of the runic array and which colored the etched out runes in red. Harry then explained their use, and how to place them, before showing how one worked. Beorn couldn't even smell Harry once he was hidden by the Notice-Me-Not, and all his animals have been fooled likewise.

They returned as the dwarves and Bilbo were finishing work on a large early breakfast for them all with Beorn still looking awestruck. "I would have sent you all on your way with good wishes and seen you safe to the borders of my land for friendship's sake with Radagast. But for this, I will prevision all of you as best I will even ask my donkeys if any of them are willing to travel with you from this land." His face grew stern then. "I will ask, will not command. If one decides to join you I will expect you to look after him as you would yourselves."

When the others all agreed to that, Thorin nodded his head, frowning as a little. In that case, perhaps we should see what we can do in terms of weapons. "My friend Harry had a few other ideas he wanted to try to further aid you against the goblins, and I noticed that you had a smithy here. Is there any metals here to work with? I note you have axes, but you do not have a sword."

Most of the dwarves were using stolen goblin gear at this point. Dwalin had his axe and hammer, Balin a sword he'd somehow held onto, Oin a hammer, Kili his bow, as well as Bilbo, who also had his Sting. Thorin had Orcrist of course, and Harry his own sword, which Kili had carried the day before. The others had daggers and swords taken from the goblins.

Beorn laughed. "I do not fight normally in this form, so I have no need of swords," he said gesturing down to his body.

Bilbo shook his head staring up at the giant human. "That's a pity, you certainly have the size..." He then broke off, paling as he remembered what Gandalf told them about this man.

"Still, the thought is appreciated. I do have some need of nails and numerous weapons I confiscated from goblins I have slain, and my own abilities in that area are crude, so feel free to help yourself."

Thorin nodded and instantly rolled up his sleeves as he requested, "Show me."

While the dwarves and Beorn worked together to prepare supplies and even find changes of clothing for some, Bilbo, Gandalf and Harry talked about the route to come once more, specifically Mirkwood forest this time, staying beside where Thorin was working, the clangor of his hammer an odd accompaniment. "

"So you're saying there are spells on this path?" Bilbo asked.

"Indeed, spells to keep danger away, spells to keep travelers on the path, spells to beguile the mind if you try to sway from its length. There are even a few places where there are enchanted boats to cross rivers, and so forth."

"And this is the same Mirkwood where Radagast ran into those giant spiders further south?" Harry asked in turn.

"Are you worried about the spiders? Thorin asked.

"Somewhat. Oh, I've got lots of spells course that would deal with such, but if we are forced to fight on the path, and if we leave it can no longer find it afterwards, that could be an issue. More than that I'm concerned about the influence of Dol Goldur and who could be there."

"So could one more thing," As Thorin winced and acceded the point, Bilbo spoke up a frown on his face. "The elves. You've been very cautious about talking about this particular bit group of elves at all Gandalf, which is quite odd to me considering how much you sang the praises of Elrond. With reason of course. The Homely House was amazing, and I was most impressed by Elrond and his welcome. But why haven't you mentioned these elves?"

"For the very simple reason that if they're not our actual enemies they certainly are no allies of my people Bilbo," Thorin said coldly, his hammer not stopping an instant, as he beat out the time on what would eventually become a serviceable sword after having melted four goblin blades to make it. He wouldn't be able to do many, but at least some of his troop would have better weapons than they did now. And axes don't take as much time or metal. I can make five of them in the same time it will take me to make one sword for Kili.

"Tell it truly Thorin," Gandalf said quite coolly, "were you friends to the elves of Mirkwood in turn?"

"Are you saying that they wouldn't've withheld aid from people after Smaug but for my father attempting to renege on a single deal with Thrnaduil?" Thorin replied just as coldly.

Harry interrupted before the two could rehash what he knew was a sore subject for Thorin, one he frankly agreed with. "Wait a minute, setting aside past issues, and I'm not saying either side is right or wrong here," he said catching Gandalf and Thorin's eyes when he looked up very briefly from his work. "If there are really elves in Mirkwood, surely Radagast could've gone to them for help. Hells, even without his warning them, they should be doing something about these giant spiders he reported."

Gandalf sighed. "I rather doubt the spiders have spread to the edge of the elves actual territory within Mirkwood, they do not after all live throughout the forest, only in one, will hidden city. But beyond that, you are speaking of being proactive. All elves would have difficulty with being so beyond their lands. They fear to make things worse throughout the and Thranduil is one of the worst for that."

"He is arrogant, narrowminded, vindictive and blind to the world beyond his realm," Thorin interpreted.

"Hell Mr. kettle, this is Mr. Pot," Gandalf shouted, slamming his staff down on the ground and causing a crackling noise, as his shadow slowly grew until he loomed over Thorin. "Congratulations, we're both black and made of iron." He then sighed, shaking his head as he regained control of himself. "I have had to deal with these, these arguments and self-destructive arguments between man, dwarf and elf for far too long. At this point both dwarves and elves have far too little to gain from continuing it, so can we please set this aside and speak about something more constructive?"

"But they will have kept up the spells on the path?" Harry asked. "Or were those permanent enchantments?"

"A little bit of both," Gandalf said, calming down still further. He truly disdained the constant bickering between elf and dwarf as to who was the wronged party, who wronged who first and so forth when even the dwarves and elves did not remember all of their own histories. "But yes, they will have done so. It is their duty as part of the trade agreements between themselves and the other elven realms. Even if such trade has dried up in the past few centuries, they must keep up the path for all the free peoples."

Harry nodded, and he and Bilbo questioned Gandalf closely about the nature of the trail for the rest of that day. Early the next, with time wasting the party set out, even if most were still not as well armed as Thorin could have wished. Still, the better warriors among them were, and that was enough for now. They could not tarry any longer if they wanted to get to the Lonely Mountain by the last light of Durin's Day in order to find the hidden door. Anything else would be impossible.

After a final merry farewell with Beorn, the group set off. They traveled half the day through scrub and scattered woodland before they began to see a difference in the forest ahead of them. Soon they found the Great East Road once more, leading into the forest, for once more the land had become.

The forest was a solid phalanx of wood. Trees, larger by far than any of the trees that Harry had seen in this world so far, had grown close together, with only the one trail leading through it. You could get through elsewhere, but it would probably take an axe to get any group beyond two or three people through the outer edges of that forest. That was not natural in Harry's opinion. Even the Forbidden Forest had a more gradual edge to it than this. He was about to ask Gandalf about that and whether it was due to elven magic or something else when the group stopped, and he noticed Bilbo was actually swaying in his saddle.

"What's wrong Bilbo?" Harry asked, moving forward quickly to help the hobbit down from where Bilbo had been near the front of the column. As he did, Harry too felt something, some kind of pressure nearby, a hint of darkness and death that caused the scars on his hands to sting. It went away quickly as he set Bilbo on his feet, but he was left with a feeling of foreboding, coming from the forest much like Bilbo, who looked as if he was becoming ill.

"This forest feels sick," the hobbit said, shaking his head. "I've never felt the like, not even when we were in the Misty Mountains.

Gandalf looked at him sharply from where he was not making any move to get down from his own pony. He would have to retrace his steps a bit, in order to skirt around the Mirkwood forest head further south. And would therefore be able to use Beorn's pony for a time more. "Define sick Mr. Baggins."

"I don't…" Bilbo paused, gathered himself and seemed to throw off whatever was bothering him for the most part, although he still looked extremely leery, one hand pressing into a pocket of his for a moment before releasing it, something that Harry missed entirely as he was too busy staring into the forest himself. The others had also noticed Bilbo's odd reaction and gathered close to listen as he tried to explain what he was feeling. "It feels diseased Gandalf, like something is wrong. Not something natural coming up from the earth, from the root as you might say, but something which has been brought in from something else."

"Which means that my trip to that south is even more pertinent than I feared if the enemy's touch can be felt this far to the north," Gandalf sighed sadly.

Harry scowled. He understood Gandalf's reasoning, but he really did not want to the older man to go off on his own. It wasn't even that he distrusted Gandalf or didn't realize why he wanted to do that. He just really wanted to go along with Gandalf to watch his back but couldn't due to his previous obligation and friendship with Thorin.

The two wizards stared at one another, and Gandalf smiled faintly. "Your concern for me warms my heart to my young friend, but I have been getting myself in and out of scrapes far longer than you have been alive. And you have already laden me down with great gifts. Trust in this old man to look after himself."

"Famous last words," Harry shot back, before shaking his head. "I won't try to stop you. If only because I think it would be a waste of breath. And you called the dwarves stubborn?"

"We are," Thorin interjected, gesturing towards the path. "Stone hard and more, or else we would never have thought of taking on this mad venture. Yet that mad journey is calling us forward Harry." He reached up clasping hands with Gandalf, shaking it firmly. "I'll add my words of caution to his, with an added caveat that I will be hoping to see you before we reach the Lonely Mountain."

"We shall see what we shall see," Gandalf said, not replying to that.

Bilbo and the others added their own farewells, and Gandalf looked at them all again. "Remember the words of Beorn. Look after those two brave ponies who volunteered to aid you in your quest as you would yourselves. And remember mine even more: stick to the path!"

With that he turned away, and the pony, without any urging, moved off. For a moment the dwarves, Bilbo and Harry looked after him for a time, but then Harry clapped Bilbo on the shoulder once more. "Come on Bilbo, I think it is time for us to go."

Harry entered the forest and stepped foot on the path, along with Bilbo in the lead, with the dwarves behind them. Almost immediately, the sunlight above dimmed noticeably, becoming diffuse, gray, and the path through the trees loomed almost like a dark green tunnel, ready to consume them. Harry could tell the effect was being magically assisted, though the how or why was beyond him. Still he felt the impact, and he shook his head before looking over at Bilbo.

Bilbo looked back, and as one, they sighed. "This is not going to be a pleasant journey."

"My friend, I do not believe I have ever heard a truer word coming out of your mouth," Harry said with a sigh.

For the rest of that day the party traveled, and at first, there didn't seem anything all that forbidding about the forest, beyond the oppressive feeling that Bilbo and Harry were feeling, or the sickness as Bilbo thought of it. But as the day wore on and the sun started to go down, the dwarves began to complain, talking of shadows moving, things seeming to stare at them from out of the darkness beyond the path.

Others saw other things fit to pull them off the path, and Kili had almost gone after one such as the group paused that night, only for Fili to pull him back. "I could swear I saw a buck, but it was like no buck I'd ever seen before! Some kind of giant of the forest, it looked as if it could feed us for days! Are you sure we…"

The first person who tries to take a step off of this path I will transmute into a frog," Harry said coldly. He actually wasn't certain if he could do that kind of spell here in this world given his own issues with using magic at all, certainly not against a hardy group like the dwarves with their resistance to magic, but he was with more than willing to try and at least the threat of it worked.

Thorin frowned, not in censure, but in confusion. "Are you that concerned about our leaving the path? I know what Gandalf said but now that we are here it doesn't seem all that bad. Oppressive for certain, but…"

"This path has spells on it. I can't tell what kind, but I don't think they're nearly as friendly as they should be, and I for certain believe that something has affected them negatively, as Bilbo hinted was the case for the whole forest. If we leave this path, we are going to get lost. I might be able to get myself back, eventually, but my people never went into spells quite like this. It feels like a Notice-Me-Not, a warding spell of some kind, and a monstrously powerful but subtle confusion spell all in one. I…think I could fight off some of the effect, but not all of it."

"Could you destroy the spell?" Thorin asked. "Is it tied into something physical we could combat?"

"For what purpose? We're supposed to stay on the path, and there are other spells laid hereto, ones that haven't been looked after, but I can sort of sense them. Protective spells, that part at least is supposed to help protect those on the path. At least I hope they do. I'm only guessing that," he admitted in a lower voice. "That portion of the enchantments feels like they should protect us, but there also feeling very weak, and I don't have much experience with sensing magic like this in the first place."

Indeed, as both of them knew, Harry hadn't had any ability to feel out magic like this before coming to this world. Gandalf however had, over the weeks of travel, helped to teach him much about that, and being in Rivendell had helped him too.

Thorin nodded, looking over at the others as they made camp. "Best, I feel, to keep that to ourselves."

Harry nodded firmly, and the trek continued. For the next two days, the group made their way through the forest, at a somewhat decent pace. But on the third day they had their first real hurdle. Early in the day they found a river, the same one Gandalf had mentioned. Here they had to use small boats, two of them, to cross in small groups. These were very rickety things, and Thorin had taken one look at them and decided they could only take two or perhaps three thin dwarves across at a time. "Fili, Kili, Ori, you first. I want you over and guarding the other side of the river."

Fili and the others nodded firmly. Over the past few days the dwarves had not gotten used to the constant grey-green of the forest or the oppressive feeling in the air. Sunset was still a time of confusion and odd shadows, one they all didn't like at all. This had made them all paranoid in the extreme, waiting for the next shoe to drop.

Even with these precautions Bombur nearly fell in, only to be saved by Harry using a spell to grab him, levitating him back towards their side of the river. At the same time, several bundles of food had gone over into the river, and Gloin with them. Bombur nearly crushed Dwalin and Dori as Harry cancelled the spell on him to try and save the other dwarf, and even so the food was waterlogged by the time Harry fished it out of the water. The water had ruined much of the food, soaking all the hardtack and bread they had gotten From Beorn, as well as several steins of fresh water having been shattered on the bottom of the river, leaving them with only the cheeses, which while waterlogged were still edible, along with the moose and elk meat Beorn had given them, which while having been waterlogged was still edible.

Harry's spells and runestones at least were proving efficacious in helping to secure the campsites they made up every night, allowing Harry and the others to rest. This allowed the dwarves at least some rest, though Harry, Balin, Kili – the two dwarves with the best eyesight - and Bilbo did not get as much rest, being on watch.

Their inability to find any game on the trail however, meant that their food did not last very long. Even with Thorin standing over the piles of food with Orcrist in hand, it was impossible to keep some of the dwarves and Bilbo from taking the odd snack. In Bilbo's case, not even Thorin tried to stop him. During their travels they had learned that hobbits just needed to eat more than other races, their metabolism was such that what they ate sped straight through them, and they needed more nutrition.

Two days past the river they were running out of food and Thorin and Harry were dealing with a minor rebellion. "We have to break off the trail," Bilbo said, shaking his head. "I'm the last person to want to ignore Gandalf's advice, but we need food, fruits and, nuts and berries at the least, something to keep us going." Beside him, Bofur, Bombur and Bifur, along with Ori and Nori and even Gloin muttered agreement.

"And I keep saying no," Harry shot back. "It's too dangerous. The spells on the path will lead you astray the instant you're off it. I have no idea if that was the way they were supposed to work but that's the way they are now."

"Are you sure you're not exaggerating?" Dwalin asked, pointing out into the woods. "We've all seen signs of game just off the trail, and if say two or three of us headed out to hunt, say Bilbo and Kili, while the rest of us stay on the trail, making noises all the time all they'd have to do is follow the noise back."

"And thus scaring the game further away, forcing our hunters to follow," Thorin retorted tartly. "We were warned not to leave the trail. We simply cannot." When the dwarves made to protest, Thorin growled out words in Khudzul, which most of them were good about not speaking so that Harry and Bilbo could follow their conversation without the use of magic. "Enough! We are dwarves. We are used to hardship."

"This is not the first time most of you have gone hungry," he went on in common, glancing over towards his youngest cousins, and then to the other two youngsters. During the long march of his people, the young and the dams had always been given food, even if doing so had taken it out of warriors' mouths. "We can get through this. And when we get to Dale, we will have a feast, and tell one another tales about how we beat the spells of the elves!"

The dwarves still grumbled a little but their spines had straightened at his words, and they nodded. Bilbo on the other hand still looked quite put out and looked at Harry pleadingly. "Couldn't you do something surely with your magic?"

"I'm afraid Bilbo that magic creates nutrients or protein out of nothing or if it can, I don't know the spells for it." Bilbo looked at him blankly and Harry sighed. "I've heard of spells that could create food it might even fill you up for a time but it wouldn't do your body any good. You wouldn't be able to sustain yourself."

"I'll take what I can get," Bilbo muttered but he too subsided.

With the minor mutiny quelled for the moment, the journey continued. If it weren't for the donkeys, who alas at this point were looking quite tasty to most of Thorin's folk and even Bilbo, who along with Nori looked after them the trip would've been much harder. With them the two most tired dwarves could ride for a time, something Balin and Bilbo both made use of after a night spent on watch.

The dwarves continued to march, and the grumbles got worse, and twice more over the next three days Harry and Thorin had to step in to stop them from butchering the two donkeys for their me. Somehow both knew that it would get back to Beorn. That man was probably a bad enemy to have, no matter how much land lay between yours and his.

Besides, Thorin had given his word, and as he told the dwarves sternly, "That is the end of it. No king can break his words so given, not even to a peasant, and expects the great and mighty to believe he will keep it to them, let alone his allies." Again, his force of personality quelled them, but even Thorin was looking weary. There was only so much sheer willpower could do in such conditions. The lack of food, the oppressive nature of the forest, and everything else was slowly eroding all of their minds and bodies.

And then there were the elves. On the sixth day into the forest, a night after the first impromptu mutiny, the night was broken by songs on the wind, sounds of merrymaking, and in the distance, dancing lights.

The dwarves were instantly enchanted, shouting to one another excitedly that it sounded as if the elves were throwing a party, and that they should make themselves known, and would hopefully be invited to eat. "After all, we are traveling this road, and much like the spells they apparently have been Keeping up, surely they have an obligation to feed travelers!" Bombur exclaimed, slapping one meaty hand into another. Of the dwarves, the former merchant had taken the near-starvation conditions worse, his fat body having the resources to deal with it, but not the training. Many a night he had spent groaning, holding his rumbling stomach after the disaster at the river.

Harry shook his head. Over the past few days he'd come to the conclusion that whatever Gandalf had thought of the spells on this trail, they fell far short of the reality both in type, and in their nature. The spells were just too nasty far too petty. And the majority were certainly not geared towards protecting those on the trail, rather they were intended to keep the people on the trail on the trail. Or if not, to make them lose their minds.

"I doubt it. If nothing else, you are dwarves and as Thorin has gone to great lengths to explain to me, you and elves, especially the elves of Mirkwood, have a tumultuous history."

Even Thorin was grumbling openly about the conditions by this point, but he had to nod at that. "We would be coming to the table as beggars, I will not allow that," he growled, pride ringing through his tone.

However, that was but the first night of the Elvish merrymaking. For the next three nights, the normally calm, peaceful nighttime was interrupted by the sounds of merrymaking in the distance.

"Now I know they're taunting us," growled the taciturn Dwalin, cracking his knuckles explosively as he grabbed onto his sword and hammer. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

Harry scowled angrily, nodding his head. "I agree with him," he said to the surprise of the others who were sitting nearby, with Bilbo especially looking shocked. Harry ignored that though, gesturing with an angry finger out into the forest. "Either they're criminally unaware of the people who use their path, and with the spells on it I can't understand how that could be possible, or they are taunting us, trying to pull us off the path."

"What do we do about it?" Thorin asked, moving over to had to squat down next to Harry. He had been repairing some of his gear, his boots to be exact, the soul of which had come off, when the Elvish music it started up, and had been stoically trying to ignore it before Dwalin had spoken.

"There are spells I can used to muffle lock all noise, from us, or toward us, as it were."

Thorin thought for a moment, then nodded. "Do it. You'll be on watch?"

Harry nodded. He hadn't been doing so well with the lack of food, and looked as gaunt and weary as anyone, but he still had his magic despite that, although he could feel his magic slowly shifting to sustaining him rather than being available for spells. As he had somewhat subconsciously realized it could. It had kept Harry going when he was younger after all when the Dursley's had done their level best to make him malnourished at the very least if not outright starve him to death.

Harry stayed awake all night, listening to the songs of the elves in the distance. By the time morning came, he still wasn't certain whether or not the elves were taunting them, or just didn't realize they were there. If that was the case, then the spellwork on the trail made even less sense, but to throw a all night long party was well beyond the point needed to taunt weary, hungry travelers.

By the end of the eight day out from the mishap at the Ford, Bilbo was practically ready to keel over, and Harry had taken to giving him his food, to keep the hobbit going. Gone was the soft jolly Hobbit that they had started the journey with, leaving in its place a still young but fit and tough hobbit. But even so, he was still a hobbit, and they needed food.

"All right," Thorin said, as he walked level with Harry after Bilbo had left with the last of Harry's own meager portion of the daily supply, "we need to get off the path and try and find some food. I have no idea how far we are from the edge of Mirkwood, we can't be more than two and a half, three days at most from it but I don't think we'll make it." His face twisted, nad he tugged at his beard fitfully, looking around them. "It's not just the hunger though, it's…"

Harry nodded. They'd talked about the atmosphere of the forest practically every day and there was no need to go over it again. "I understand, It's just the spells aren't going to let us do that easily. I think, I think we might have to rely on the elves."

"Gah…" Thorin groaned, but didn't argue. The fact was, they needed a lot of food. A dear would be excellent, but the odds of any of them taking one down was nonexistent. Certainly, berries and nuts wouldn't cut it. They needed actual prepared food. "I don't want to be in debt to the elves for anything, but it's that or starve. Or go mad. So, what do you suggest we do?"

"We spread out. Two of us stay on the path with the ponies, while we use makeshift staffs cut from the trees that overlook the path ropes to tie everyone together. Myself and Bilbo, should be the lack the ones out there furthest. Have me be the furthest one out, I'll use a spell to get their attention pointed towards the trail, and then amplify my voice."

Thorin grunted agreement. "And with me in the center. I'll need to coordinate things."

So it was on that night, Harry did not place the Notice-Me-Not spells down. With Bilbo and Harry the outermost, they ranged off of the trail, tied together by pieces of rope each of which were around forty yards in length once Harry had created them.

That night as the previous four nights, the elves singing began, but, it didn't last very long after the line of travelers had started to stretch out in their direction. Indeed, Harry thought for a moment that they had already been seen, but he still went through with his plan, launching out a Bombarda spell into the distance, and then, using the Sonorous spell on his mouth. He opened his mouth and shouted, "Hello! We are needy travelers on the trail through your woods, we request and need help. Any kind of food you can give us would be appreciated."

By the time he had finished the first word the distant song ended, and the lights of the Elvish fires went out by the thirds. There was a moment's silence after his shout ended and then nothing. Nothing was heard in the woods. No song, no sight of elves, no animals.

It was that last that made Harry's hackles rise, which was not a fun sensation at all. "Bilbo move over to Thorin with me, and tell the others to start doing the same. And be silent about it."

At the bark of command Bilbo's head rose in shock to stare through the forest toward the not-so distant form of Harry, not having heard that kind of tone from Harry outside of battle before. That thought was uppermost in his mind as he twisted around, tugging twice on the rope that he was holding out towards Thorin.

Thorin gently reeled him in, as Bilbo did the same with Harry, and so it went for a time, with Bilbo now able to see Harry in the light as Harry had cast a Lumos spell on a finger. Thorin saw his face quickly after and twitched. "That is not a good look," he intoned calmly as he began to loosen Orcrist in his scabbard. "Bilbo if you would get out Sting I would appreciate it."

"What's wrong?" Bombur asked, the dwarf next to Thorin on the line.

"Trouble," Harry replied. "I don't know why, but my shout didn't exactly get us any help from the elves. In fact, I think we just made it worse."

The reeling in was a slow process, because without Harry lighting the way, most of the out towards could barely make out put in front of their faces so dark was it under the trees, and they had to be very careful not to trip, lest they automatically release their grip on the sticks that they were holding out to either side. About halfway through the process Bilbo's Sting flashed with light green light.

A second was all they had to prepare before there was a rustling in the nearby trees, and Harry's head twisted in that direction. He instantly let go of Bilbo's hand pushing him into Thorin as he raised both hands and shot out a spell in that direction. "Reducto!"

The spell exploded in the trees, and then there was a chattering noise, like thousands of insects magnified and Thorin raised Orcrist to a defensive position. Bilbo feel around me for the rope," Thorin ordered, moving to stand with Harry. Grab Bombur and go, then keep going."

Harry quickly conjured lights here and there, but after a moment's hesitation, their attackers came on, chattering angrily. Their attackers were not human, they weren't even natural, or if they were, they came from the world Harry never wanted to visit. They were giant spiders, spiders that looked more like tarantulas than the spiders he had seen in the second year in one of his stupider adventures.

Harry then started to concentrate on cutting spells and transfiguration. There was no way to form a shield line, or any kind of organized formation, and their enemies were all around them as well as above, so conjured walls were of little use. But once he'd created a half dozen large ground-spiders, Harry concentrated on the above enemies to deal with one such axis of assault while Thorin barked out orders to his dwarves and Bilbo, who clung to Sting, standing near to Thorin once more, having returned with the dwarves, even Gloin, who had left the path behind.

Not realizing that they now probably had no way back to the trail, Harry killed seven of the spiders before the others had come close while his transfigured snakes dealt with more. But they kept on coming, fibers flying down from above, jumping towards them from every direction, hissing and jittering in their language. To Harry's surprise he could make out a few words in that noise, an oddity he decided not to examine too closely.

"Kill them, kill them all!"

"No, take them captive. They have enough meat on them to last a few days!"

"Kill the one with the magic! His eyes burn like fire, and he conjures it."

"Harry, we need light!" Thorin howled staring all around them as he moved to take advantage of a spider that had been nearly crushed by the tail of one of Harry's snakes. But while dwarves had decent night vision, there was little moon or starlight under the shadows of the trees, and Harry knew they were all nearly blind.

Setting trees alight, Harry reflected, was possibly not the best they could do in a forest owned by elves, but it certainly would give them enough light to see by, and at that point, that was all Harry cared about. His spells flew fast and furious, as the spiders closed or shot out their webs.

"Incendio!" He used the fire-starting spell twice, before switching back to smaller, more easily aimed spells, cutting down several more spiders while conjuring smaller snakes. They worked, but the spiders seemed able to deal with them with relative ease.

So busy was he on his own spellwork that Harry really couldn't concentrate on the battle. Only brief flashes of it really grabbed his attention here and there.

Kili and Fili fighting back to back, the younger dwarf's bow discarded for a long heavy cutlass Thorin had made for him. The two of them were a whirling dervish, as in-sync as any two people Harry had ever seen in a fight. They slew three spiders as he watched, then twitched around the tree, one before the other out of Harry's sight.

Over there Dwalin stood roaring, actually cackling in delight. "Finally something to hit!" his axe flashed in the firelight as he blocked one spider from attacking him, and then smashed ed into the face of another when it went to bite him with his warhammer.

He was almost lifted off his feet by spiderwebs shot down at him from above, but a quick spell from Harry saved him from that, and he rolled as he landed, coming up and charging into another bunch of spiders who were trying to surround four more dwarves. Harry couldn't see who it was through the bodies of the arachnids.

Gloin and Oin were fighting their backs against a tree, something that would have gotten them in trouble from spiders scuttling down it. But they leaped away just in time and Harry sent a Reducto towards the tree, shattering it and splattering several more spiders.

Through it all Thorin's voice could be heard bellowing orders, ordering his dwarves to link up, or for that dwarf to watch out on his left. Evidently wherever he was, he had a better view of the fighting and Harry did. Deciding to rectify that, Harry shifted back to Incendio, lighting up more of the trees above them.

That had an instant effect. Most of the spiders in the trees broke, but the ones on the ground went crazy charging forward even more, as their fellows from above quickly joined them. But without the threat form on high, Thorin began to finally get organized, linking up through the darkness, and Harry moved eagerly towards them through the dark.

Suddenly he stumbled on a root, not having been watching his footing. And then he was on his back as a spider slammed into it. A bite clamped down on one shoulder and he roared allowed in pain. He thrust one hand up over his head and a cutting spell flashed out which cut the creature's head in half, spilling its brains and bile over the side of his face and head even as he tried to turn away from it.

He pushed himself to his feet, and then was knocked over once more, this time by Bilbo, who careened into him stabbing and hacking at of spider, which had been about to take Harry's leg off.

Harry helped kill the beast, then with a "Thank you Bilbo!" he helped the hobbit to his feet, and the two of stumbled towards the dwarves.

At this point Harry began to feel tired. He had expended a lot of magic so far, and that was on top of using magic to help the journey along and without much in the way of food for more than a weak. Now I'm wishing I wasn't so quick with the lightness charms and so forth, Harry thought ruefully. With that thought he started to switch to smaller spells, creating tiny needles of fire or weaker cutting or exploding spells, hurling them at spiders. During this time he lost sight of Bilbo in the shadows, Sting's light no longer visible.

Twice more, Harry found himself under attack, before he could get to the dwarves, and it one point, a spider was able to wrap his arm up with thread, tying it almost to a tree. That forced Harry to use his sword to fend off the spiders, but it was still the sword of Gryffindor, and that meant it was enough to do for the spiders, who screamed in agony at even the slightest cut from the heavily poisoned blade.

Their convulsion brought him enough time that Harry was able to free himself, and even launched two more small fire spells into the surrounding forest. Finally, finally, the spiders seems to have had enough. Several of them began shouting "Retreat retreat this prey is too tough!"

"They have slain too many of us!" another voice agreed. "We must retreat, we must!"

At that point, something new was added to the fight, as arrows began to slam into the spiders from every direction. Hissing almost with rage, the spiders tried to scuttle away but the elves were on them now, cutting them down in turn.

For a moment, just a moment, Harry believed they were safe, and began to take a count of those dwarves he could see. All of them seemed to be there visible in the light of the flames above, although it took some time for Harry to be certain of it. For a moment he couldn't see where Bilbo had gotten too, and ice down his spine. He was about to shout for Bilbo, when the elves finsiehd the last of the spiders off and turned their bows and arrows on Harry and the dwarves.

"What is the meaning of this?" Thorin asked coldly, his sword still in his hand. "Is this the welcome of the elves for trip travelers through their realm?"

"The trail is far behind you, said one elf, coldly in return. "And you have a lot of nerve holding a elven blade and trying to tell us you are simply travelers."

"We found that blade and one other held now by Mithrandr in a troll's cave," Harry interupted, moving to stand by Thorin. "We were told they could keep them by Elron of Rivendell."

At that many of the elves looked surprised but the man who had been doing the talking simply looked angry.

"As for us being off the trail, we were running out of food and starving," Thorin said, argued. "We called for aid, we tried to get your attention. And instead of coming to our aid, you fled, and called down the spiders on us."

He knew that was a lie of course. But he wanted to get under the the elves skin, and he did so quite well. Many of them muttered angrily, and more than one raised a bow towards him.

Next to Thorin, Harry grinned at them cheekily, gesturing with the tip of his sword. "The first one of you he who fires an arrow at any of us, I will set on fire. The second, I will cut in half. The third, I will possibly torture until his mind breaks. My patience with this entire fucking forest is at an end." The fact this all came out in a mild tone did in no way take away from the impact of his threats.

Yet it was all a bluff. At the moment, Harry didn't think he could conjure enough of a magical blast to down a kitten, he felt so drained. He was sore and extremely weary, both in body, and spirit after the many days in the forest.

And yet, while the elves in front of him backed away, the ones behind him, or at least one of them wasn't impressed. "You are in no position to threaten us young wizard. You might have magic, but you are in our land, and you must obey the laws of the master of the hall."

It was a woman's voice and Harry turned, one eyebrow rising as he saw a woman behind him, pointing, yes, another arrow in his direction. Like all the other elves she held her bow in an expert grip Harry thought, comparing it to what he knew of Bilbo and Kili's. That was only the first thought Harry had as he looked at her though. The other, was that she was beautiful. High cheekbones, which seemed to be an elvish feature a thin face, a long, thin neck, elegant ears poking out of lustrous black hair, which she wore down her back in some fashion Harry couldn't discern in the firelight. She also had light blue or perhaps light gray eyes, he couldn't be certain once again because of the poor lighting.

"You set fire to our trees. Even if you are one of Istari, that is an affront we will not allow to stand."

"We all needed light to see by, and besides, they didn't seem to be your property at the time, rather they were owned by the creatures within," Harry snarked back.

The woman grimaced and made to speak but the man who had been speaking earlier cut her off, saying something to her in Elvish, a single flowing sentence. She clammed up, but still looked like she would rather spit Harry on a long stake then bandy more words with him. "Regardless of your reasons, you are off the path, and our King does not allow trespassers into our lands. Especially ones who call down the evil from the south upon themselves in those lands and on his people."

"You're blaming us for the spiders?" Thorin scoffed. "When they came from the forest, the forest that you all are supposed to own and protect?"

"They are no threat to elves and would have been no threat to you if you had remained on the path. But you did not, and you did. Thus, you are our prisoners. Come quietly, or we will kill you." The man made it clear which choice he preferred.

"As much is I like straight speaking, Harry said holding up one hand which began to glow magically, as he prepared a wide angle stupefy "Exactly how are you going to take me without my leave? I ask only in the spirit of inquiry."

"Can you protect all of your dwarven followers, wizard?" The elf asked, gesturing out into the woods. At that gesture more than sixty arrows flew in an instant, slamming into the ground in a circle to one side of where the elves dwarves and Harry stood.

Harry snarled, but with how spread out the dwarves were and the number of elves surrounding them, he knew he couldn't protect them all magically. And none save Thorin and Dwalin looked to be up for more fighting, the rest looked like they were on their last legs, which they were after the travel through Mirkwood. "Very well, but first I demand some water to clean my face!" He asked, gesturing at his face. "I am not going to go anywhere with all of this blood caked to me."

"Wait's that's blood?" the woman asked, a sneer on her face. "I thought it was some of that warpaint that you humans used to be so enamored of."

"How nice you've discovered sarcasm," Harry drawled, before gesturing back to his face. "My face, please?" he asked patiently. Or as patiently as he could under the circumstances. Which is to say, not very much at all.

The leader of the elves glowered but held out a skin of water in one hand, his other hand out at the same time. "Your sword. All your weapons will be confiscated."

Thorin glowered, but the rumble of his beyond empty stomach interrupted him. At this point, being a fed prisoner sounded better than being a starved wanderer. HE just nodded, looking over at the others. Only Dwalin made any protest, but he too gave over his weapons, growling, "I'll be wanting those back, ya twig."

Soon all of them were grouped together and led off at arrow-point. They were led off however, Harry noticed Bilbo wasn't among them and smiled grimly. Well Bilbo, let's see how good you really are at sneaking around then.

OOOOOOO

Out in the forest, several hundred yards away from the others, Bilbo lay, the ring he had taken from Gollum on his finger as he watched what was going on protected by it's invisibility. As he watched the elves first help the dwarves, and then take them prisoner along with Harry he shook his head. Bilbo my lad, it appears as if there are elves, and then there are elves. Harry was right all along about the spells on the path it seems.

He kept watching for a few moments, then stood up, reaching out to wrench Sting out of the carcass of the last spider he'd dealt with. He had killed seven of them in the fight, or rather had helped killed four of them, and killed three of them himself. But then he had been knocked to the ground, as one of them had tried to pin him there. After desperately kicking the spider off his finger had found the ring, and he had slipped it on as he'd put a root between himself and the once more charging spider. When it had leaped over the root, it had found nothing, and Bilbo had stabbed it from the side unseen.

He glanced towards the trail, and the donkeys as they were being led away by a few more elves, then back towards where the elves were slowly leading off his companions. Then he sighed, sheathing Sting after wiping the blood off. Then, he moved off after his friends, his jaw jutting firmly forward as he wondered what he would have to do to get them free. But first the kitchens. Food is a must for any great escape after all.

End Chapter

I alas would not look for this story to be updated for a while, as it rarely does well if paired against even one other HP story. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed it, and the changes I have made and will continue to make.

One question I know I will be asked is: the Ring. Yes, Harry felt it that first moment when he helped Bilbo of his donkey, but the Ring has a sentience if you recall, and it can hide it's aura to an incredible degree. Gandalf knew about it for over sixty years, and never quite connected it to the One Ring. Harry barely even knows the One Ring's name, let alone has any idea it's still around. If he touched it directly it would be obvious – and hella painful – but not hidden in one of Bilbo's pockets. So don't look for any big changes on that score for a while.