Chapter One
As Hermione granger stood alone, four Death Eaters surrounded her.
"You may have killed our master, Mudblood, but we still live. And now that we've finally found you, you're going to die." One of them sneered at her.
It was true; they had defeated Voldemort. Only a year ago. Now, Hermione was an Auror. She had finished at Hogwarts and had taken up the job so she could hunt down the remainder of the Death Eaters who were still wreaking havoc in the wizarding world.
"It won't do you any good." She growled. "Killing an Auror isn't going to stop you from going to Azkaban." She spat.
One of them laughed, lunging forward, his wand pointed at her chest.
"Crucio!" He shouted and a searing hot pain shot through her body, tearing at her insides. She screamed and found that she couldn't reach the wand hidden in her robes.
This went on for several minutes as she writhed in pain. Finally they stopped the torture and laughed cruelly at her convulsing form.
It was at that moment a pendant showed itself, covering her heart, where the Avada kedavra was headed.
It hit the target and a bright golden light exploded and she was gone.
It was as if she was falling and she somehow wondered if this is what it was like to die. But it couldn't be… She could still feel pain and her pendant was burning against her skin.
She landed with a loud thud in fresh air.
The air flooded her lungs and she found herself gasping for air, before promptly passing out.
"Gandalf, come quickly!" a voice said.
Gandalf appeared. "What is it, Aragorn?"
"This girl… she just came out of nowhere. She's hurt." He said urgently.
Gandalf checked the girl for a pulse. "She's alive. Only just." He said, his voice solemn. "Summon Théoden's healers." He ordered.
Aragorn left quickly. He had just been smoking his pipe on the steps of Rohan after freeing King Théoden from Saruman's evil, when this girl crashed through a golden light. It was as if a… portal had been opened.
Gandalf laid the girl out. She looked to be about nineteen and not from this world. She did not wear what women were meant to wear.
The healers came in and Gandalf watched as they worked quickly and assessed her injuries.
It turned out; she had broken her ribs and had few bruises, but nothing too serious. He waited for her to wake up.
Three days passed, and Hermione's eyes fluttered open. The light blinded her. She closed her eyes tightly again and heard a merry chuckle from beside her.
"The light is a bit bright, if you've been sleeping for three days." The voice said, amused.
Finally, she opened her eyes again and they adjusted. She looked around. She was in a room, on a comfortable bed. There was a window on the other side, flanked by some curtains with horses all over it.
Sitting next to her bed, down near her feet, was an old man, a staff in his hands. He had long white hair, a beard to match and wore white robes. He seemed to shine an unearthly glow.
"W-who are you?" She croaked out.
"I am Gandalf The White. Also known as the White Wizard. Who, may I ask, are you?"
"Hermione Granger." She paused. "Where am I? Am I dead?"
He chuckled again. "No, no, you are not dead. You are in Rohan."
"And where exactly is Rohan?"
"Middle Earth." He said simply. "I know you are not from our world. I have seen your clothing. Tell me, where exactly are you from?"
"I'm from Earth, more specifically, England."
He chuckled again. "I thought you might be from there." He paused, thinking, a long finger tapping his chin. "Do you know Albus Dumbledore?"
Her eyes widened. "Y-yes. But he's been d-dead for some time now…" She looked away from the man's shocked and saddened expression.
"It's very sad to hear that." He said slowly. "Albus was a good friend of mine."
"He was my headmaster."
"How did he die?"
"A dark Lord killed him. His name was Voldemort."
"Ah, I see." His blue eyes shone with tears.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"And I am sorry for yours." He replied. "Anyway, so you're from Earth." He stated.
"Yes, I don't even know how I got here… I was under attack one minute… and the next, I'm falling and I wake up here."
"Under attack? But surely no one would attack you? You look as if you're only nineteen."
She let out a bitter laugh. "That would never stop Voldemort. I'm a muggleborn witch. A mudblood." She spat at no one in particular. "He wants me, and people like me, dead."
"Mudblood? What is this about mud in the blood?"
"They say that if a witch is born to two muggles, their blood is dirty. We aren't pure like them."
"I see. However, from what I feel radiating off you, you are powerful. Be you pure, or not."
She laughed bitterly again. "That doesn't matter to them. All that matters is pure blood. They believe we don't deserve magic, if we have non-magical parents."
"Well you won't find any prejudice here, Hermione." He bowed his head.
"Good. In fact, I'm glad I can take a break from such dark times. Voldemort may have been defeated, but now they want revenge."
He froze. A break from the dark times? Oh dear… "Hermione, I don't know how to put it, but… I'm afraid you won't be getting a break from darkness."
He waited for her reaction. When she was silent, he continued. "You see…" He began to tell the story of the ring.
When the story had come to where they were, in Rohan, Hermione had paled considerably. "So, two of these… Hobbits, or whatever they are, are on their way, alone, to a place called Mordor to destroy an evil ring?"
"Yes, that's right."
"How did they get separated from the rest of the fellowship?"
"Frodo decided it would be best if he were to go out on his own."
"Well, are we going to find them?" She said expectantly.
"No, Frodo and Sam have my complete faith. Besides, we are needed here. I can feel Saruman's forces growing."
"So what are we doing?"
"Well, I am trying to convince King Théoden to meet them in battle. But he has toher plans. He wished to take everyone to Helm's Deep."
"Helm's Deep? Where's that?"
"Over in the mountains… it's their defence fortress."
"Oh, well that seems like a good idea." She said optimistically.
"No, we need to take a stand. Going to Helm's deep will only egg them on." He said angrily. "However, it is the King's wish, and I will not force him to go against it."
She nodded. "Are they planning the defences yet?"
"Not yet; they're going to wait until they get to Helm's deep."
"Oh good. I can help."
"Absolutely not!" He exclaimed.
"What? Why not?"
"Because I will not see a woman fighting in a dangerous war."
"But I can fight! I come from a place plagued with war, and I'm a witch! I can help. I can also put up defensive spells on the fortress!" She protested.
"You can help plan the defensives if the King will let you. But I'll not let you fight. It's much too dangerous."
"I've faced much worse. I've come face to face with men who want to kill me with magic!"
"We'll put it to King Théoden. He shall decide." He sighed.
Hermione stood in the hall, her face was flustered and her throat was sore. "I can fight!"
"You are a woman!" The dwarf, Gimli, boomed.
"That doesn't matter! It shouldn't matter! I have magic!"
"That doesn't count as combat!" He boomed again.
"Yes it does! Besides, I've trained with a sword before!"
"Tha' Doesn'a matter! You are a woman and will only slow us down!"
"Eugh! You are infuriating!" She yelled at him.
"Enough!" Came the voice of the one called Aragorn. "We shouldn't fight about this."
"Exactly, she shouldn't fight at all!"
"Oh come on! I can use a sword! I've had practice with one of our most skilled swordsmen back home! I also have magic."
"As soon as she comes face-to-face with an orc she'll run away screaming!" He exclaimed, throwing his stubby arms around.
"I've faced things that have resurrected themselves! Voldemort is more snake than human! And he uses a wand!"
A few men in the hall shuddered.
"ENOUGH!" Aragorn bellowed. "Stop fighting. King Théoden, what is your say on this matter?"
The king in question looked on, thoroughly amused. "I think we should allow her to help us. And, if it comes to it, she can fight if she likes." He paused, thinking. "However, she will need to freshen up her skills with a sword."
"But she's a woman!" Gimli bellowed.
"Woman or no woman, we need all the help we can get." Aragorn said calmly.
Gimli spluttered indignantly.
"Right, it's settled then. We leave in the morning."
Hermione smirked at the dwarf. He grumbled in reply.
She walked out of the hall and onto the steps that led to the hall. She found Eowyn sitting down and seated herself next to her.
"Are you alright?" She asked.
"Yes, I'm fine." Eowyn replied.
They sat in silence for moment. The silence was interrupted when Théoden took Eowyn aside.
Hermione sighed and got up. She walked down the stone steps, her new skirts swishing with every step; she went out the gates and came to the edges of a forest.
Here, she sat on a large rock, watching as people moved about, getting their things ready for the journey of the next day.
She thought of home; how the Death Eaters were seeking revenge, how Luna was getting married to Ron.
Her heart wrenched. What if she couldn't make it home for the wedding?
"It is beautiful out here, is it not?" A soft, silky voice bought her back to earth – well, Middle Earth.
"Y-yes, it is." She said, gazing at the one they called Legolas. He had dark brown eyes that looked sharp and assertive and long blonde hair that went just past his shoulders.
"You wish to fight. Why?" He asked taking a seat next to her.
"Back in my world, there was a war waging. It still is. It started when this wizard became evil. He called himself Lord Voldemort." She paused, letting it sink in. "Soon, he started gathering followers who called themselves Death Eaters. They began to wreak havoc on the wizarding world. I wasn't even alive when this happened.
"My friend Harry Potter, his parents were killed by Lord Voldemort, he tried to stop a prophecy. But when Voldemort tried to kill Harry, who was only one at the time, he failed and his powers were drained from him." She stopped, looking to make sure Legolas was listening.
"Everyone though he had gone for good and even his name was bad to speak. Everyone feared his return. He did return, but in small forms and when Harry, myself and our friend Ron were eleven, Harry battled him for the first time since the night his parents were killed.
"He didn't fully return until our forth year, Harry had been in this competition type thing, when he was transported to a graveyard with another student. The other student was killed." Tears were welling up in her eyes. "That was the night he resurrected himself. That was the night the war began again."
"It sounds like you come from hard times. But that still doesn't answer my question."
"I fight because nobody deserves to go through any of that. I know you've already had a war over the ring and it has come again, and I can't help but hope that if I fight, I'm making sure at least one other child never has to experience something like that. Ever." She said, her voice cracking with passion.
"For someone so young, you speak wise words."
"I am not young."
"How old are you, then?"
"Nineteen, nearly twenty."
"You are young. Enjoy that you won't always be young."
"What makes you say that?"
"I don't age like the men in this world. I will not grow old. I am an immortal Elf."
"Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"
He chuckled. "Not always. Come, we had best get ready to leave. I'll walk you back."