Catalyst

Summary: In which Harry, Hermione, and Ron get sucked into Middle Earth by way of a defunct portkey on their way to the Quidditch World Cup. Set in the beginning of GoF/The Hobbit.

Author's note: First and foremost I do not own the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. This idea popped into my head a while back. I do so love Harry Potter crossovers (HP/LoTR and HP/Hobbit crossovers are a new fixation of mine) and wanted to try my hand at a Hobbit/Harry potter crossover, while reaffirming that my writing skills haven't gotten too rusty…which they most assuredly have.

Chapter One

Harry gasped for breath as his knees hit the grass, Ron collapsed in front of him with a moan of "I hate portkeys." And Hermione made a noise of disgruntled affirmation. His glasses slipped down his nose and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against the dirt, closing bottle green eyes as the world kept spinning dizzily about him. He dug his fingers into the ground trying to anchor himself down.

"Are portkeys normally that-" Harry broke off uncertainly, voice muffled by the earth.

"Brutal?" Ron inquired, his own voice muffled and Harry frowned as he lifted his head, blearily gazing over at Ron who was half hidden in the long grass, flopped over with an arm thrown dramatically across his face. "No." Ron finished in a deep exhausted tone, voice wavering only slightly to show his discomfort. Harry raised a brow at Hermione who was crouched, albeit unsteadily, off to one side poking at the boot that had served as their portkey with a furrowed brow.

"You're both being dramatic." Hermione scoffed straightening and tucking her wand behind her ear. Her arms crossed as she surveyed the two boys on the ground. "Besides, we have more important things to worry about other than a heavy bout of motion sickness." Ron peered around his arm at the girl and Harry repositioned himself to sit cross legged, blowing an overly long lock of hair out of his eyes.

Harry frowned suddenly noticing the extreme quiet surrounding them; he twisted his head to look about. They were in the middle of a vast valley, rocks poking out from the sea of green that surrounded them, in the distance he could make out a long mountain range. His frown deepened, "Where's everybody else?"

Ron shot into an upright sitting position eyes wide and searching. Hermione lowered herself gracefully to the ground, still studying the mangled old boot that sat between them. "That's the question isn't it?"

Silence stretch between them for a moment. "Bill says that sometime Portkeys can get worn out after a while." Ron stated slowly, looking discomfited by his recollection. "Maybe it just dropped us a little out of the way?" He added hopefully, standing up to survey the land around them.

Hermione frowned thoughtfully, "Then how will we get there?" She inquired eyes flickering between the two of them as Ron sat back down dejectedly. "None of us know how to apparate."

Harry snapped his fingers perking up "The Knight Bus."

Ten minutes later found Harry scowling and arm burning from the effort of holding his wand in the air, the Knight Bus yet to show. "Maybe it's just really busy." Ron interjected "Hang on Harry let me have a go." Harry allowed his arm to flop to his side as Ron raised his wand.

Hermione hadn't stopped pacing about the boot, her eyes fixed on it as she muttered softly to herself, theories and spells no doubt rolling through her mind. She paused to consider them for a moment before she looked at her wrist watch. "You look ridiculous. Ronald, put your arm down it's obviously not working." She snapped. Ron dropped his arm, scrunching his face up at her. "Maybe we've landed somewhere unplottable." She muttered, resuming her dizzying pace around the dilapidated boot.

Harry wandered a few feet away, climbing up onto a rock to gaze out across the field, his wand tucked into his back pocket as he gathered his knees to his chest. Ron soon dropped down at the base of the rock, head leaning against it as they considered their friend.

"Think she's losing it?" Ron asked quietly as Hermione stopped and picked the boot up to peer at the dirty laces before waving her wand over it with a muttered spell. The boot glowed yellow before turning neon pink and she scowled at it. Harry shrugged, not feeling as if he should be the judge of anyone's mental stability.

He focused on a distant hilltop, letting his eyes focus and in and out on the horizon. The wind picked up slightly making the grass bend and roll like waves towards them. Ron piped up again, sounding nervous "They're probably looking for us right now, we'll be at the game and laughing about this later, you'll see."

Harry continued staring at the hilltop, he wanted to affirm Ron's tentative optimism, but felt his throat close on the words. He instead made a strangled noise, and hugged his knees tighter to his chest.

Harry blinked as something seemed to surge towards them over the top of the hilltop he'd been absentmindedly staring down. "Hey Guys?" Ron looked up at him from beneath long red bangs and Hermione scowled at him from over her pink boot. "I think something's coming this way." Several somethings in fact. Ron stood scrutinizing the oncoming figures, Hermione turned, boot hanging limply at her side as she shielded her eyes in an attempt to get a better look.

"Are those people?" Ron inquired aloud as the figures drew closer. They were archaically dressed, swords or axes clasped in their hands. Behind them astride large dog like creatures were the most hideous humanoid creatures Harry had ever laid eyes upon, wielding block like swords and snarling at each other as they rode down the men. Hermione gaped incredulously and Ron dashed forward to grab her arm and haul her back toward the rock Harry now stood on, wand in hand.

A stout bearded man streaked past them at a speed that was surprising for his girth, "Run!" came the gruff command and Ron scrambled to comply dragging Hermione behind him as he went. Harry scrambled over his too large trainers off the rock, slipping down into the grass and onto his face. Hermione called his name, tone hysteric, the sounds of the heavy snarling bore down on them. He cursed and pushed himself upwards feet digging into the ground as he took off running.

Now at the tail end of the fleeing group of chest height bearded men, Harry felt panic clamp down deep in his gut. He hadn't run more than a few yards before something made contact with his back, making him see white for a second, and sending him sprawling into a heavily tattooed man. A few of the other men were keeping the creatures at bay, slashing at them when they darted forward. A circle of sharp fangs and mutated, heavy browed faces snarled at them, the world was too bright, everything seemed to be moving too fast. Harry tightened his grip on his wand as a pair of small but strong hands hauled him to his feet. He staggered, his back burned.

"Harry!" Ron called, waving him over to underneath an outcropping of rock "Hurry!"

Harry darted forward a few paces only to skid to a stop as large fangs snapped shut inches in front of his face. He flinched and stumbled backwards, automatically throwing his wand out "STUPEFY!" A jet of red struck the beast in the chest and it crumpled to the ground, trapping its rider's leg beneath it.

The rider gnashed its teeth, prying itself from beneath the beast with little difficulty and advanced towards Harry. It snarled something in a guttural language, raising its blockish sword above its head as it advanced. Harry raised his wand, blood rushing in his ears, tongue feeling thick in his mouth. With a whiz and a sickening thunk the creature fell to the ground, leg twitching and an arrow sticking out the side of its head.

Scrambling towards Ron, Harry's head whipped to the side, taking in the unnaturally beautiful men astride wide chested horses as they began driving the creatures away from the group. Ron all but dragged him down into the small cavern to huddle with half a dozen shorter men.

"Shit! Harry, you're bleeding!" Ron's voice swam in his ears and Harry stared up at him blearily.

"Lay him down lad and move out of the way, I'm a medic."

His cheek pressed into the rough rocky floor of the cavern as they lay him on his stomach, his eyelids getting heavier by the blink. The sound of ripping fabric and harsh cold air on his back snapped him back for a startling moment of clarity. Hermione crouched by his head, fingers carding through his hair, tears running down her cheeks. Ron hovering so very pale and scared behind her "Harry, hold on!" –A green light, a cold laugh, "HARRY!"-

It was black, and Harry knew nothing for a while. Nothing was alright, Harry thought into the black as he floated free-wind in his hair as he swooped high above the earth. Grin splitting his face as he dove-, nothing was better than something, better than Voldemort.

As if summoned by his optimism, the world righted itself. He jolted at the sudden feeling of his feet on the ground, his own body a heavy certainty. Smoke was everywhere. Hovering in a thick blanket over the ground, wafting up into the air in lazy spirals.

Harry choked on the rancid smell that hung as thick as the smoke in the air; he covered his nose with a hand, his eyes watering behind crooked glasses. Tentatively taking a few steps forward, Harry slipped sending debris clattering as he dragged his feet. He took a few more confident steps, his progress slow as he picked his way through the destruction.

The ground angled upwards and Harry found himself tripping over heavier things. The air stagnant as ever but thinner making it harder to breathe. His back burned and his feet throbbed, his throat swollen from the smoke. He reached a small flat platform and stopped, overcome by the need to look, the need to know.

There were bodies as far as the eye could see, crows picked at the mangled corpses below and Harry staggered backwards in shock. "Shocking isn't it?" Harry could only nod numbly, mind rebelling at the voice. That familiar voice, her voice –"Please not Harry, not my baby!"-

Pale arms hugged him from behind, red hair -red as blood red as fire- forming a curtain around his shoulders as the woman -his mother- lay her cheek against the crown of his head. "Oh, Harry." Her voice hummed into his burning back igniting it, making it itch. She slowly began to let him go, red hair leaving his vision.

"Mum?" Harry choked out voice raspy and uneven, full of emotions -Longing, love, despair, blinding foolish hope- He couldn't turn, couldn't move.

Lily hushed him, arms circling about him again, gently rocking him side to side. "I'm here baby." Her embrace tightening briefly before she slipped away again. "You must be strong, be brave. Live, Harry." She whispered gently.

Harry trembled, "What if I can't beat him?" Harry allowed his fears to tumble forward -green light, a twisted grin under a pair of ruby red eyes, red hair against cold stone- "He's so strong."

"Neither can live while the other survives." Lily whispered, sounding very far away.

"What? What are you saying?" Harry inquired, fog descending about him, hiding the sea of dead below him, silence hung thick in the air. "Mum? What does that mean?"

The pain was sudden and all consuming. Harry choked on warm blood –his blood- as it dribbled down his chin, he glanced down at the sword -long and straight, stained with blood as red as the rubies in its hilt- "M-" he choked again as the sword was pulled from his body. Hands going to cover the gaping hole it left behind, more blood bubbling from his mouth. He finally staggered around, turning to look into his mother's bottle green eyes, his blood staining her hands, Gryffindor's sword at her feet "Mum?"

"You must die, Harry." She said softly, her fingers running along his face lovingly, leaving sticky trails of blood –his blood, her blood, blood of the damned, blood of the innocent- in their wake. "You must die in order to live."

Author's Note: I know. Before any of you say anything about the prophecy, I know. He doesn't hear about it until book five. But this is my cryptic story damnit. My dark twisted plotline (and boy do I love dark, cryptic and twisted) and I'll utilize Lily's ghost however I see fit. (though I doubt most will deny me my simple joys.)

Anyhow. Just a thought that crept into my mind and stayed there until I wrote it out, albeit a little rushed in the delivery and there's a lot of Hurt!Harry and honestly I wasn't going for that at first but it just sort of ended up that way. I am so mean to him…

So please forgive spelling mistakes and grammatical errors and review. Constructive criticism is welcome as always.