This is my first Lord of the Rings fiction. I have written others stories, but never for this site. These characters are originals, to an extent, borrowed in part from another story I wrote long ago. They are OCs with familiar names. Consider this firmly in the realm of AU in both worlds. I look forward to constructive criticism and a great ride. I hope this plot brings humor, suspense, feeling, and above all else the proud satisfaction of reading a good story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings, or any character familiar to each respective story. I am not making any money off of this story. Unfortunately.

Chapter 1 – An Unexpected Journey

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

James looked up at his friend, adjusted the protective goggles on his face, and then turned back to his work.

"Of course I'm not sure. I already told you that," he replied in his soft, deep voice. James Potter was an enigma. All wizard, with an ability to twist magic that hadn't been seen in centuries, but not all human. Captured at the age of three by wizards of ill repute, he had been tortured with foul, experimental magic that had left him as a man who had drank Polyjuice potion with the essence of a dragon.

Large, opalescent black wings sprouted elegantly from his back, shifting and twitching as he moved. A long, muscular black tail extended from the base of his spine, ending plainly. His tail was the window to his mood, moving almost cat-like to his emotions.

His hands were tipped in hardened black nails that were sharp enough to cut flesh. His face was angular and sharp, his ears longer than a man's and sharply pointed. His eyes, the color of Egyptian gold, were slitted like a snake's. And his canine teeth were long and sharp, beset with another, shorter set of fangs on either side for holding his prey steady.

He had the soul of a man and the body of an animal.

His companion, though, was at home in his presence and had been for years. Phelan Greyback was an outcast of their society, the sins of his father coming to a head one night as he forced himself on Phelan's mother. The unfortunate young woman had given birth to the werewolf's only son nine months later. When the boy was born, eyes as yellow as his father with the telling silver hair of the old werewolf, she had dropped him off at the nearest orphanage and ended her own life with a small phial of poison.

Two tragic lives were brought together at school, where both had met in their Sorted house, Slytherin. They had come across others with terrible, heart-rending stories, and had developed a tight group within their year that had taken the world by storm.

Tobias Snape, Aden Dolohov, Perseus Pettigrew, Draca Malfoy, Romulus Lupin, Phelan Greyback, Orion Black, and James Potter had formed a tight-knit community within themselves, each an outcast by some measure of society. Many of them had Death Eater fathers, and were such shunned for the misdeeds committed before they were born. James was a Halfling, cursed to exist within the world as a second-class member of society, no matter who his father was. Orion, son to Sirius, still had yet to throw off the generations of black deeds done by his relatives, and so he and his father both lived under a shadow of mistrust. Romulus and Phelan, both werewolves by birth, were with James as second-class citizens, though Romulus got a bit more leeway because his father was a respected, if not accepted, member of the Second Wizard War.

Each boy, or girl, could command the form of an Animagus, had had used the skill to great success. James himself could change into a great black dragon with ease. Phelan commanded the use of his werewolf form any time he wished, and was in complete control when the moon forced his transformations. It was a skill that had saved him a tremendous amount of grief at school. Tobias was a panther, sleek and black as his personality. Aden was a crow, Perseus a wily fox. Romulus had the same control over his werewolf form in the light of the full moon, but his Animagus form was that of a hawk. Orion, the trickster, was a grinning coyote. Draca was another conundrum in the group. For all the sins of her father, Draco, and her grandfather, Lucius, she had a heart as pure and lovely as any of them had ever seen. So while it should have come as a surprise that her Animagus form as a unicorn, it was actually a welcome addition.

Phelan watched with yellow eyes as James carefully pried the outer ring away from the little artifact, careful that it didn't spin at all. His friend had recently come into the ownership of a Time Turner, and he had every intention of breaking it apart to study with powerful magic held within the delicately forged metal and glass.

James set the slender ring of metal aside, and stood up, looking down at his work. The golden chain lay off to the side, now joined by the outer ring. He kept the pieces close together, but far enough away that they wouldn't activate themselves. He had already had a couple accidents where he had to wait an hour (or three) before he could return to the room after inadvertently tossing himself into the past.

Phelan was starting to second-guess the practicality of ripping apart a time turner.

"These things are incredibly mysterious and powerful, James. Far be it from me to sound like a cowardly little Chihuahua, but perhaps this scope of magic is beyond us..." he said softly. James removed his plastic goggles and lifted slitted eyes to his friend's face.

"There has yet to be a magical artifact beyond my comprehension. I will not be dominated by a bit of gold and sand-filled glass," James said, his tail swishing angrily behind him. Phelan rolled his eyes with a soft huff.

"Of course. And then the rest of us die in a fantastic magical backfire that melts our flesh from our bones," he snipped. James snorted, sending a puff of smoke and a small flash of sparks from his nostril. He opened his mouth to retort, but the door to their room was thrown open suddenly, making James bristle with surprise.

Orion Black stood at the doorway, a grin on his face that would put any clown to shame.

"Anyone dead yet?" he asked irreverently, the doorknob still in his hand.

"Nope, not yet," James said pointedly, glaring half-heartedly at the newcomer. Orion laughed.

"You speak of murder now, mi amigo, but you clearly had no idea that I brought food..." Orion said, producing a greasy brown bag of food in his other hand. James caught the warm smell of spicy Mexican food, and rumbled with appreciation.

"You live another day," James said.

The three friends ate in silence, sharing the fast food between them. James' food had been wrapped separately, so spicy to most people that just the smell itself could make others' eyes water.

"Sooo..." Orion finally said. "How goes the experimentation?" he asked, glancing over at James' work area.

"I've gotten off the chain and the outer ring. Did you find anything useful in your family's vault?" James replied, putting a spoonful of pickled peppers into his mouth. Steam curled lazily from his nostrils. Orion grinned, reaching into his pocket. He tossed a small pouch to James, who caught it with one hand. The velvet pouch was marked with the seal of Gringotts, and James unwound the satin cord reverently. He opened his palm and spilled the contents into his hand.

"Beautiful," he breathed simply, the Dragon half of him purring lazily at the sight of such treasure. A mithril locket sat on his palm, glittering as if it were made from stars. The locket was ovular with delicate scrollwork around the edges, with a diamond set simply into the center. It was hung on a fine chain, no more than a strand of metal, but impossibly strong.

James wanted the mithril specifically for the Time Turner project. He was going to forge the same parts from the sturdy mithril metal. He surmised that the highly magical metal would amplify the effects of the Turner, allowing the user to go back further in time. It would be useful to go back more than ten hours.

Worst come to worst he had destroyed a Time Turner and wasted a piece of the most precious metal on earth. It was a decent trade, in his opinion.

A tinkling melody from his pocket distracted him from staring at the necklace and he looked down, withdrawing his mobile phone from his pocket with one hand as he slipped the necklace back into its pouch and down into his other pocket. He flipped the phone open with his thumb and held it about a foot from his sensitive ears.

"Yea?" He greeted.

Orion shoved another bite of burrito into his mouth as James spoke on the phone. He could hear the soft tinny sounds of a female voice, and reckoned it was Draca. He smiled to himself as he took a draw of soda from his cup. James and Draca would one day realize that they loved each other. But until then everyone had to deal with James being overly protective of her and Draca pretending she didn't worship the air James breathed fire in.

James' conversation was short. He stood from the floor and brushed a few crumbs from his black robes before heading out of the work room. Phelan shot a look at Orion.

"I wish they'd just hurry up and snog," he said softly.

"I heard that!" James called from the hallway. The two remaining friends snickered good-naturedly.

James returned after a few minutes with Draca in tow. She was dressed in a simple blue wrap dress with flat silver shoes. She could make simple clothes look designer, with her tall, slender figure and aristocratic facial structure. Her long, silver-blonde hair was pulled away from her face with a fabric headband that matched her outfit tastefully, and her makeup was light and well applied. The Malfoy blood showed in her artfully lined grey eyes.

"Hello, boys," she greeted happily, settling on the floor next to Orion and stealing the rest of his burrito from his hand. He looked at his empty hands for a moment, before looking at her. Then he crossed his arms and pouted.

Orion was a handsome boy, the looks of his family well placed in him. He had wavy black hair and his father's piercing blue eyes, with the narrow Black facial features and slim build of his mother's family. She had been born in America to a respectable family, but she had fallen in love with England on a trip here, and moved as soon as she could. She had met his father and fallen in love, and now only saw her American family when they came to her. They were a bit snotty over her marrying a Brit.

"So how's it going?" Draca asked after polishing off the rest of Orion's burrito.

James grinned and walked back to his table, gesturing for her to come. He replaced his plastic goggles across his eyes and began to tinker with the artifact again. He carefully removed the second ring of the Turner, setting it aside as well.

"Almost done," he murmured. The other two had set aside their food and were watching him intently to see the progress. He removed a few pins and then separated the small glass housing from the highly decorated golden plate. Everything was apart.

A collective breath was released from the group.

"I must admit. That's rather nerve-wracking," Draca said with a soft, breathy laugh.

James didn't stop working. He then pulled the Gringott's pouch from his pocket and dumped the contents on the table. He removed the locket from its chain and held the locket in the palm of his hand. There was a brush of magic in the air as the locket began to float in the air.

"Move back. I'm about to apply heat," he said brusquely. The three moved back quickly, knowing how hot James could get when he applied fire to the situation. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with oxygen before exhaling slowly. A tongue of fire slipped from between his lips, licking at the locket slowly.

He repeated this action several times. The mithril began to heat up slowly, much slower than any metal he'd ever encountered, until it was white hot in front of him. Both hands were held on each side of the molten material, and he began to pour magic into the hunk of metal floating between his hands.

Phelan could see the ovular locket begin to change. The Metal separated into pieces, each droplet shaping itself into a piece of the Time Turner. The inner and outer ring, the decorative plate, and each pin and catch that he had taken apart molded itself out of the precious silvery material.

"Water," James said suddenly. Phelan rushed to the sink inside James' small lab-room. A small cauldron was filled with water and brought to where James worked. Phelan could feel the heat from the metal, and a sweat broke out after a few moments, but James looked quite at home in the sweltering heat. When Phelan had put the cauldron down and moved away James carefully levitated the glowing metal over the water, lowering it gently into the cauldron so that his friends weren't sprayed with boiling hot water.

The metal hissed and growled as it came in contact with the water, but each piece held its shape as it was instantly hardened and cooled. When each piece had been dipped and cooled, he lifted his hand again, and the newly forged pieces of mithril rose from the water. They were placed beside their gold counterparts on the work table, glittering seductively.

All eyes were on James' hands as he began winding the pieces back together. He made very sure to keep the piece flat, not wanting to accidentally send himself three weeks into the past. As they watched, his deft fingers hooked the outer ring back into place before threading the whole thing back on the mithril chain.

"That was actually a bit anticlimactic…" Orion trailed off as James glared at him. James picked up the new mithril Time Turner, holding it in his hand and examining it. It gleamed ominously in the light of his laboratory, and he carefully grasped the knobs.

"James, you're not going to try it now?!" Draca exclaimed. James held the Turner in his fingers, and then gave it a sudden flip once. Phelan gasped.

Nothing. They waited for several moments before James finally sighed in defeat.

"Damn. I guess that's – ah!" The metal suddenly lit up with brilliant light and heat. It seared his flesh but he dare not drop it. He could feel magic crackling dangerously around them. "Get out! Get out!" he called to his friends.

"James, drop it and run! We can get out of here before that thing-," He was cut off as the Time turner began to spin furiously on its own, squealing loudly the whole time. It suddenly wrenched itself from James' hands, suspended in mid-air. James could feel the pressure beginning to build around the magical artifact.

"Down!" he screamed suddenly. Draca, Phelan and Orion dove under his work table with James shortly behind him. He felt the explosion a moment fore he heard it.

For such a small item it made a gods-awful sound. It blew the glass out of the window on the far side of the lab, and James was sure his sensitive ears were deafened. It was as if there were suddenly a tornado in the room, ripping vials and instruments from their places and blowing them around. James risked a turn towards where the Turner had floated, and gasped in horror.

It was as if the air itself had ripped. There was a long, jagged hole in the air. It was like a vacuum, sucking his instruments into it as the air tried to stabilize the terrible pressure. With dawning terror he noticed his leather boots were slipping against the stone floor as the air drew him towards the atmospheric rip.

"Nope. Nope, nope, nope," he chanted, grabbing hold of the table. Phelan was holding tight to Draca, her lighter form making it hard for her to keep away from the gaping hole. James cried out in distress as Orion was struck hard by a small beaker. The glass broke over his head and he let go of the sturdy table in dazed surprise. The air pressure pulled him quite suddenly towards the tear.

James lashed out, wrapping his tail around the leg of the table as he grabbed his friend's arm. Orion's feet were dangling dangerously close to the black, hungry portal. James' face screwed up in agony. His tail felt as if it were going to disengage itself from his spine. It was worse than the time that Gryffindor punk had pulled it. This was unending agony.

The tip of his tail slipped suddenly, and he and Orion hurtled towards the portal. Orion's glazed eyes widened as his feet and legs disappeared into the blackness. They both came to a halt, however, when someone grabbed James' hand. His head whirled about, looking at Draca as she held determinedly onto James with one hand while Phelan held both her and a table.

"Let me go, James!" Orion said suddenly. "It's okay! Save yourselves!" he cried. James' eyes turned to him, the slitted iris wide with fear.

"Never! I'm sorry! This is all my fault and I won't let you suffer for it," he said. Orion's piercing blue eyes locked with James' gold ones. James turned then to Draca. "Let us both go. Whatever happens I can protect Orion!" he snapped. Her thin face twisted angrily.

"James Sirius Potter! I will not let my friends be eaten by some God-forsaken hole!" she returned angrily. The table Phelan was holding shifted suddenly, and they all moved forward several feet. Orion was up to his belly in the portal now.

"Please," James said simply to Draca. Tears were in her eyes as she shook her head angrily.

"Wherever we go, we go together. I will not let you go," she said. She then turned to Phelan. "Let go, Phelan. We'll go together. Even if we go right into the arms of death we'll go together. I won't abandon any of you anymore than you'd abandon me!" she cried, tears falling.

"No! Don't you dare, you furry son of a bitch!" James howled. He tried to break contact with Draca, but his grip on Orion slipped slightly. The boy was crying out to his friend to let him go, to save the rest of them.

Phelan looked at the desperate mask Orion's face was twisted into. He looked into James' angry face, and then the Draca's agonized one. Her hands were white as she held to James and to himself. He looked down at his own arm, wrapped around a table that was starting to shift towards the portal anyway.

Draca was right. He would never let go of his friends any more than they would let go of him. He screwed up what bit of courage he had.

"We'll go together," he said Draca's words aloud, and let go of the table. They all flew into the black portal, immediately ripped away from each other in the violently swirling air. The hole closed as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving only the twisted shards of molten mithril to cool on the stone floor with a few grains of mysterious sand embedded into the metal.

The trip seemed to take forever and no time at all. James felt sick as he whirled about like a fish in a blender. Suddenly the blackness lightened, if only a bit, and he felt the familiar sensation of falling downward. He hadn't had time to brace himself before he struck the ground hard. The breath was knocked out of him from the abrupt thump. He finally drew in a breath, choking on the cloying taste of dry dirt and sulfur. His head swam with agony, and he couldn't even open his eyes. A deep darkness began to descend on him, and James allowed unconsciousness to claim him.

The burning light of an all-seeing Eye landed on his prone form.

So? Is it worth continuing? I think the story could be interesting, to be sure, but I'm eager to see if others would even want it. I don't mind constructive criticism, but I dislike flames. Let me know what you think!