This was written at the same time my Underworld/Harry Potter crossover story, "Under Lightning", was. I finished that one first, and thought I should get this up as well. A few similarities, but a completely different plot line.

Celeborn had his reasons when he asked the fellowship for Gandalf.

It was with great disappointment and worry when he heard what had happened. Gandalf had been the one he planned to have consulted about this, for he had heard about the betrayal of Saruman and the other wizards were few and unlikely to pass by anytime soon. It was disheartening to see how the fellowship was already straying.

"While the rest of the fellowship rest, there is something you should know, I particularly fear for your journey if you leave without knowing of this new threat that has appeared."

"Threat?" Aragorn is trying his best, to lead them in place of their fallen leader, but even he with all his skills could not provide what Gandalf could. Celeborn released a sigh.

"Come, you may to, Legolas of Mirkwood, if only because you deserve to know if this should happen again in your homeland."

The tall elf led them away from their resting place, away from the haunted lament for Mithrandir and away from the elf gatherings. Hollowed out beneath the roots of the thick trees he led them to what at times would be considered a prison. Here the elves carried with them more weapons and their expressions were grimmer, though they acknowledged their lord and his guests with respect. Aragorn knew what was happening.

"You took in a prisoner?"

"He was injured and now recovers under our care, now his well being would decide the welfare of some kinsmen. A party of our scouts were ambushed and captured, one has been set free to deliver us the captors' demands, the captured scouts in exchange for the prisoner."

"Neither orcs or goblins would honour such agreements," Legolas pointed out.

"Those foul beings wouldn't care for each other like this either," Aragorn turned back to Celeborn as they began to enter another corridor, "This new threat does not belong to that group, does he?"

"He holds more than one form," Celeborn finally stopped in front of a door, "but he seems to be in that form the longest."

Legolas opened the door, and the three looked inside. It was a rather spacious room, and there were two guards inside, one seemingly guarding, and another seated besides the prisoner. The prisoner himself was seated on the floor, between him and his elven guard was a chessboard.

How obnoxiously cliche, but that was not what caused Celeborn's guests to stare.

Aragorn has travelled to many kingdoms and villages of Men, but even he had never seen such a sight. The prisoner looked like a regular child of Man, only his hair proved otherwise, a shade of red that resembled the hottest fires. The flaming red hair was long, tied in a low ponytail behind the boy's neck.

"Where did you come from?" Aragorn wondered out loud. The boy gave him an uncomprehending look before returning to the chessboard. Aragorn realized he had subconsciously spoken in elvish, and Celeborn answered for him.

"He speaks only westron, and without a familiar dialect. What little he has said is to ask for his release and freedom, along with refusals to our questions."

Legolas frowned, "The lady of this realm ...?"

"Cannot peer into his mind," Celeborn answered, "That is why we worry, there are few who can escape her sight. Particularly for someone who could so easily change form, we worry that he may try..." There was a sudden gasp behind them, the three turned around.

Captain Boromir of Gondor stood there.

"What are you doing here?" Aragorn asked, surprised the man had wandered so far off. Had he been following them? But Boromir was staring into the room, for once ignoring his fellow man.

"It can't be..." he breathed, before anyone could stop him he stepped past Aragorn and into the room, making his way towards the prisoner. The elf guards tensed, and the prisoner looked up, but Boromir only dropped down to one knee, closely examining the boy's face. It was obvious that even under the loose clothing the elves had provided for their injured, the boy's body had tensed, but Boromir didn't make any threatening gestures.

"You can't be...perhaps a relative, a son...? You look so much like him, like you haven't aged a day..." he reached forward and the boy instantly recoiled, but Boromir's words stopped him, "...Rabbity Ron."

The boy froze, eyes wide, he stared back at the captain before whispering "Boromir?"

Boromir nodded, a rare look of anxiety on his face. The prisoner now leaned forward, examining Boromir's face with a stunned, and almost awed look. "Merlin, has it really been that long? You were but a child when I last saw you, and now you're...Faramir must be an adult now too, and your father..." the boy trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief. Boromir took his silence as an opportunity to look over the boy, then reached over and picked up the boy's bandaged hand. This time the prisoner didn't flinch.

"You're so thin now, what happened to you?"

"You only think that because now you're older and physically your hands have grown larger then mine."

"What about these injuries?"

At that the prisoner's eyes flickered from Boromir to the elves besides him, and to the one standing at the doorway. Boromir had almost forgotten about them, he rouse to his feet and stared at Celeborn, who only gave him a speculative look.

"I believe, Son of Gondor, that you've given us more information then we've ever gotten out of the boy."

"What have you done to him?" Boromir's voice remained polite, but there was a touch of anger just lurking beneath now. Of the fellowship Boromir had been the least comfortable in these woods, but he had always been more cautious, now Aragorn feared the man was about to lose his temper and do something terrible or stupid.

"We took only the necessary steps to safeguard our home," Celeborn answered. "I know not how much you know of your friend, but that boy behind you is a sorcerer of unknown means. He took in an unnatural form when he came to our doorsteps, we feared the worse and defended our home."

"I know exactly what he is capable of!" Boromir snarled, and Aragorn could have hit him, "He changes form, an unnatural shape shifting ability I am aware, but harmless!"

"The form of a fell beast of Mordor is harmless?" Celeborn's voice was cold. "A reptilian creature with claws and sharp teeth, resembling one of the winged mounts of the Nine, and you would call that harmless?"

"I-what?" Boromir turned back to the prisoner, "Ron, what is he saying?"

"You don't know," Celeborn answered instead. "Do you know how this boy came here? He took on the form of a dragon, flying towards Lorien with unnatural speed, my scouts took him down with arrows but could not kill him thanks to the thick scales. When he landed, he changed form in front of our very eyes, to the boy you now see in front of you. We wanted answers and so took him in, healing the injuries inflicted on him. Yet not only does he refuse to talk to us, his mind is closed from my wife, and now another party of my scouts have been taken captive by some unknown force, demanding this boy in exchange."

Boromir looked at the regal and cold elf lord, then back to the prisoner, "Is that true?"

"It's an improvement," Ron countered. "It was embarrassing being a rabbit, spying advantages aside, but it was good practice to return to what I was truly capable of becoming: a dragon, able to fight and fly and hunt."

"A fell beast," Boromir corrected, "a creature well known for chaos and destruction, that was what you were striving for?"

"Don't make this look like I made some stupid decision, I knew even before I met you that I was capable of taking such a form, that I had to reclaim it as soon as I could, and I rejoiced when I did!"

"No one would have let you make that choice, no one...except perhaps for her, or for that other, did he want you to take that dragon form?" Boromir's eyes narrowed, "Are they here?"

Ron looked at him, "Don't you dare..."

"Lord Celeborn," Boromir's eyes didn't leave Ron's even as he spoke to another. "I do not know if my information is useful to your current problem, but I can certainly provide some background to what you might be facing."

At this Ron stood up as well. Although he was almost as tall, his frame was more wiry, thinner then Boromir's built and nowhere as threatening, but his voice was strong. "You are no longer a child, Boromir, you cannot believe that because you made someone disappear I will continue playing and paying attention to you."

"Those two are dangerous, even more so now that they've become capable of enough sorcery to capture elves." Boromir no longer looked kindly and gentle, this was a man of Gondor, a soldier and captain at the peak of his time. Whatever great friendship he shared with the red haired boy had been put aside in the face of what Boromir saw as a threat. "They've turned you into a terrible weapon, who knows what else they would do."

"Have you lost your mind?" Ron hissed, "If you go against them, do you know what they can do? They won't even need me to destroy Minas Tirith, your beloved chief city of Gondor, they'll torch it in a day!"

"All the more reason for me to tell the elves, they will have to believe me, now that they've seen your sorcery, and especially once they know your friends could torch the great forests of Middle Earth as well."

At this point the elves looked like they wanted to say something, to demand clarification or to accuse the foreigners of making false claims, but the look on Celeborn's face silenced them. At the very least the conversation was giving them information about the boy-sorcerer and his associates, and judging by the boy's expression he knew it too, he also knew that Boromir was already very likely to tell the elves what he knew. There was nothing Ron could do, but try to convince the Gondor captain otherwise.

"You can tell them all you want, Boromir, but you would also tell them to go with the exchange and pursue the matter no further. You better pray Hermione is the one overseeing the exchange, or the Valar help you if you try anything under Harry's eyes!"

Or he could try threatening.

"I know," Boromir answered. "I also see that you yourself hope it is Hermione who does the trade, if only because you owe me that much."

"Guilt trips won't work on her," but Ron didn't argue against Boromir's words, and his tone was resigned. Boromir, sensing the boy was less likely to attack him now, took a small step closer.

"It may not be the best time now, but I hope to see you again in Gondor, fighting by our side and protecting the city once more."

Ron gave him a steady look, "Considering my last disaster, I don't think I should be joining any armies."

"I am no longer a child, this time I won't need your protection," Boromir's face took on an unreadable look. "If anything, you will need mine."

"That totally defeats the purpose of me needing to return what I owe you..."

"When you recover, I hope to see you back in Gondor, as an ally and friend." Boromir turned and walked out of the room, not meeting any of the elves' eyes. Aragorn looked back at Ron, the prisoner watched until Boromir was out of sight and sank back to the ground. He then focused back on the chessboard and made a move.

Was that an ominous sign?

"You still will not tell us about your history, will you?" the elf guard asked, and Ron shook his head.

"If Boromir is already giving you information, I'm not telling you anything that he doesn't know about."

The other elf seemed to mull over his thoughts, whether about his prisoner or the next chess move was unclear. Celeborn knew the boy was finished talking, and gestured for his guests to leave with him.

Legolas eventually spotted Boromir, for a man who had strode out with purpose he clearly had no where to go. As uneasy as he was of the elvish powers and the foreignness of the forest, Boromir dared not wander far and was now sitting under a solitary tree, watching from a distance as the rest of the fellowship engaged in their own conversations. Celeborn told his companions to speak to the captain while he consulted with his wife, and parted ways. Aragorn sat down besides the lone man, while Legolas stood on the other side.

"Have you told the Lady what you know?" Aragorn asked when Boromir remained silent. The blond looked at his dark haired companion, his fellow man in the fellowship and his supposed sire once they were in Gondor, and shook his head.

"Why do you hesitate?" Legolas asked, "the Lady will never hurt you."

"Considering that it had been her who sent me to your prison, she likely saw my memories and already know more about Rabbity Ron then I ever wanted to tell her. I only said what I did partially to spite him, and to warn him again why I never wanted him to go back to those friends."

"Why do you call him that?" Aragorn asked, "Rabbity is no name a person would respect."

"No, of course not, it was a joke between the two of us, something only we knew. The joke's origins..." a dark look passed over Boromir's face, "wasn't as funny, but perhaps I had been too young to truly recognize the consequences."

"Well, don't fall silent now, if we are facing a new threat you'll best tell us now."

"Gimli," Aragorn made a note of brushing up on his skills, this was the second time he had allowed someone to move behind him without notice. "What are you doing here?"

"Despite what your elf friends may say, I am quite aware of my surroundings, even more so in these woods. The hobbits are in dire need of rest and time for grief, but if we are to be facing more peril the dwarves know to first deal with that." Gimli cast a look over Legolas and Boromir, the former again looked offended at the tone Gimli used to describe the woods, but Boromir hardly seem to notice.

"You would have gotten along with him," Boromir seemed to be thinking aloud instead of talking to the fellowship. "He used to hate how our Rangers would always catch him unaware, there were times he was so oblivious we joked he should have tried living among the more blunt dwarves, he had been fascinated by the idea..."

The others waited as Boromir lapsed into another period of silence before he spoke again. "My mother...she passed away young, and my father never remarried. There were no women in our lives except for the servants, but at that time a stranger came into our lands. He couldn't ride a horse and could hardly lift a sword, he spoke strange words and had even stranger customs, but his hair was an oddity and marvel, red as fire and brilliant as ruby, that the people presented him to their lords, who eventually presented him to my father. Ron had been wearing a cloak when he arrived, the day I met him I pulled the cloak away and thought his head was on fire."

Aragorn could only imagine what ruckus a young Boromir could have made with that thinking.

"Perhaps my father saw something then, something other then a stranger from far off lands with exotic hair, but the boy came with no family and my father let him stay. The boy could not teach me any swordsmanship or history, in fact he was schooled right beside me, but he became my caretaker, an eccentric older brother of sorts, at a time when I most wanted someone. He was certainly an oddity, the other men were never too sure of his manners, which included among other things a love of reading and cooking."

"Cooking?" Legolas blinked, and Aragorn knew his reaction must be mirrored. Gimli remained passive, travelers and underground dwellers had long been used to cooking their own food, just that few would openly admit to enjoying it.

"He saw no problem with going to the kitchens and trying his own hand, even asking the women for advice. We figured he loved to eat and had a great appetite, his love of reading was overshadowed by that, it took me a while before I realized what exactly he was reading: every recorded moment of sorcery. He soon developed a fondness for rabbit meat, but he may had been using that as a cover too. I thought I had caught him the first time he attempted sorcery, looking back it might not even be that, considering what he just told me about his dragon form."

"You don't mean to tell me that his possible first attempt at sorcery..."

"A rabbit," Boromir smiled in nostalgia. "He was able to change form, took on the body of a rabbit. I had secretly been watching, planning to surprise him in another child's game between us. Ron made me promise not to tell anyone, as a foolish child I promised, and prided myself being the only one who knew a wizard in training. I didn't even tell my family, but certainly I wasn't the only one who knew."

"Not long after our promise, a group of envoys from Rohan came to visit us. Rohan is a long time ally, my father greeted them, and I was there beside him so that he could present me. Ron was there too, to reassure and provide me support but he may have already had his agenda, for the envoys from Rohan also had their own surprise. Female riders are rare, but they are more common in Rohan then they are in Gondor, and there was one of them, Hermione of Edoras - I won't know until later she was actually of Isengard."

"From the fortress of the White Wizard..." Legolas could not imagine a lone girl fighting the might of Rohan or Gondor, if Saruman had been using her as a tool it would have to be a spy, or perhaps marriage to one of the higher ranked horse lords, but if the stories were true the Rohan lords would value honour above all else and marriage alone would not persuade one to ignore a threat to their country.

"This is before Saruman betrayed us, did he harbor such treacherous thoughts even then?" Aragorn clearly knew what Legolas was thinking.

"We probably would never know unless Saruman himself confessed it," Boromir admitted. "When I first met her, she was a guest and under the protection of one of the Rohan lords, and he apparently knew she was in Gondor to look for someone. As it turned out, Hermione and Ron had both claimed the same story, that they were from the House of Gryffindor. Their reunion was that of family, not lovers, and it was clear that the oddities I thought in Ron was normal in his foreign home, as strange and different as their names, for though Hermione would display an acceptable face for us if they ever thought they were alone their speech and manners were too different to be from any nearby settlement of Man."

Gimli frowned thoughtfully, "Your Ron was famous for red hair, didn't this Hermione share the same features?"

"No," Boromir laughed, "She actually looked relatively normal, light brown hair and eyes, but you knew she was as much a foreigner as Ron, the way she talked and carried herself. She didn't look anything like him, we thought that perhaps one of them had been a ward instead of a heir from the House of Gryffindor. That house must be something if those two were anything to go by. Both Ron and Hermione were strangers who charmed everyone around them, so cheerful in company, so quick in wits; everyone who met Hermione desired her, no one could resist Ron, they were going to reach that age in their lives where their beauty was at it's peak. Yes they had no established family background, for they were so secretive about the history of Gryffindor house, but their charms and subsequent connections would help them greatly. If it had been a spell, it was very strong, for I myself loved them both, but if it was a spell it turned against them most viciously. The two were separated, the disgraced Ron was sent far away to fight, and I, being young and foolish, went after him and further cemented his shame."

"You will not tell us of those events?" Legolas prompted.

Boromir clearly did not intend to, "By the time I was returned to my father, I had met the true Heir of Gryffindor. He was about Ron's and Hermione's age, and it was he who rescued and told me that I would never see Ron or Hermione again, for he has reclaimed that both. Indeed for the many years after I will hear nothing of them. I wondered often will they become little more then dreams or childhood memories."

Aragon knew he wanted to ask, what caused the disgrace, what happened during Ron's assignment to the fields that caused the boy's comments about being a disaster in the fighting units, why Boromir needed rescuing and how Harry, no doubt the true heir of Gryffindor, managed that. He knew that Boromir would not answer those questions, so he asked instead, "Did Hermione and Harry ever show you their sorcery?"

"No, but Hermione admitted her sorcery was more difficult to control, and while I have not seen Harry's sorcery I saw the remains of a smoking camp and the defeated soldiers cast carelessly around when he rescued me. One man against a dozen and he walks out unharmed, whatever sorcery was employed it was powerful, in ways I am glad I did not hear news about him for he alone could probably bring about great destruction."

"The torching of the great forests," Legolas remembered the words exchanged with the prisoner, "You will have us trade with these sorcerers who may use this chance to destroy us before Mordor could?"

"No, Ron hated battles and would do anything to avoid it, he will not join Mordor."

"You cannot say the same of the others, can you?" Aragorn knew it would probably pain his companion, but he had to consider the possibilities. "That was years ago, even if they were all reluctant before now could have changed their minds, they could be deceived, they may not work with Mordor but they may work with an equally hostile force like Saruman, who you say may have already claimed their friendship. No one will miss the benefits of having a dragon on their side, especially one with the capability to think and be controlled like a human."

Boromir had already anticipated that thinking. "If they did plan to fight, you can only convince them not to, and for that alone I would not choose to give Ron over so easily."

"And what would you suggest we do with him instead?" Legolas asked, "The elves here have their own power, but if that boy is really a shapeshifter it would only be a matter of time before he recovers enough to attempt escape."

"I'll take him back to the City of Kings," the words were out before Boromir realized what he was saying. The look on his companions' faces said everything, stunned surprise and then a more calculating look. Aragorn looked about to speak, and Legolas had just began to make a sound, but Gimli beat them both.

"You intend to bring not just the One Ring, but a shapeshifting boy-sorcerer to your city?"

"We are preparing for a war," Boromir answered, "the last thing we want is the enemy gaining possession of two more weapons."

As the only one who spoke Westron, Haldir was the obvious leader in the team sent for the exchange.

Of the captured elves, only one had been permitted freedom, and only to deliver the captors' message. Normally the language barrier would have made things difficult, but not in this case. The elf, young by their standards, had came back throughly unnerved. The message his captors gave him had been communicated very clearly.

"His eyes were so green, but so blank, they reflected everything and did not let you see anything. He looked at me and suddenly I felt him inside my head, it was like our Lady, except instead of words he gave me images. He wanted me to bring the shape shifter to him, only then will he free the other elves. There was nothing about having to go alone or anything, just a location and the image of an exchange. He pointed out the location and simply released me, and when I didn't move, he filled my mind with images of a burning forest. His hand suddenly lit up with fire, I knew it was sorcery, and I ran."

Boromir had not been surprised, "what does surprise me is that Hermione was not there."

But the message had been delivered, along with a threat. Boromir was right, the sorcerer had made it clear that he would burn the forest down if he needed to. While it grated on the pride of the elves, they could not simply ignore this, and so Haldir, with a team of well prepared elves, marched to the cliff face that Harry had pointed out to the messenger. It was away from the woods further out in an open field, and they risked running into orcs or other foul creatures. Yet the elves encountered nothing in their travel, and when they arrived the place seemed deserted.

Which only served to alarm them, the place was eerily devoid of even the birds and insects.

"Mithrandir would have had advice on how to deal with other wizards," one of elves was whispered as they pushed aside the tall grass. "He may have even heard of these new ones, and provided us the means to contain the threat."

"Mithrandir is not here now," Haldir had silenced the whispering elves with a cold look. "We will grieve for him, and remember him, but we will not dwell on what we could have had with him. We will face our adversaries like we always have, and we will triumph."

The elf captain wondered if he sounded callous, or a good leader. As it was, he did not dwell on those thoughts. Upon arriving to the designated area he called out, "I have brought your friend! The elves of Lorien are here for the exchange!"

They actually had no intention of carrying it out.

The 'prisoner' with them was another elf, cloaked and with his hands tied, but secretly armed with enough knives to surprise the sorcerers. After much debate, the elves had decided to keep Ron on their side. He may not be speaking, but the elves wanted to continue interrogating him, especially since releasing him meant the possibility of the enemy gaining a weapon. As for the other sorcerers, if they met in battle, they could either capture or kill them with a better conscience. Right now, Ron will remain under custody of the elves.

"You did not give us the time you wanted this exchange," Haldir continued, eyes searching the cliff and the field surrounding them. "But we came as soon as we can, for we also wish to bring our friends home."

"How strange, then, that you bring with you weapons to turn against yourselves."

The elves reacted, but it was too late. One moment everything was still, the next what seemed to be a wind had gathered and rushed past them, sending cloaks and hair flying back. The elves ducked to avoid the sudden onslaught of air, flinching as it roared past them, for they knew this was no normal wind. It ripped past their disguises and tore the cloak off their 'prisoner', exposing the elf for what he really was.

"I don't know whether to praise your bravery in coming or mock you for underestimating us! Coming out to these open fields with the intention to deceive!" A second gust of wind, and suddenly a creature flew into the air. It appeared to be a giant bird, but instead of flesh and feathers it appeared to be morphed entirely by liquid. The creature was eyeless, what appeared to be a liquid skin stretched over empty sockets, and was entirely blood red. A figure rode on back of the creature, cloaked in a matching red.

"Fire!" Haldir shouted, and the archers quickly had their arrows ready and shooting through the air. The creature reared back and flapped its wings, the sudden gush sent the arrows backwards towards the elves, and they scattered, dodging as best they could. Not all were successful, there were cries of pain as some of the elves became pierced by their own arrows.

"You brought these weapons that now turn against you!" The cloaked figure shouted as the bird-monster suddenly swooped down, sharp talons extended and almost slicing another elf in two. Another elf fired some more arrows, and to Haldir's horror they seemed to pass through the creature's wings, as if they really were made of liquid and not flesh. "There's no place to hide in these open fields!"

"You're right," Haldir agreed as he readied his own bow. "There's no place to hide in these fields, or the open air." He released the arrow, aiming not for the creature who deceivingly made a larger and easier target, but to the cloaked figure riding it.

The arrow shot true, the cloaked figure suddenly jerked and fell off the winged mount. The hood flew back, and Haldir saw surprised brown eyes and feminine features as the figure plummeted to the ground below.

What happened next only proved the sorcery of their enemy. The bird-creature suddenly lost shape and became no more then red liquid, spilling straight back to the falling girl and disappearing into her wrists. Instead of falling to her death the girl righted herself and held out her hand, what red liquid that had not disappeared suddenly took shape again, forming into another bird much like the first, but smaller in size. The new bird appeared below the girl and spread its wings, catching her before she landed and saving her from certain death.

The girl raised her head, and the elves saw she was much like the maiden Boromir had described. Hermione from the House of Gryffindor, the female sorcerer, and where Ron had been a shape-shifter this sorcerer clearly was a summoner of sorts. Haldir's hand tightened on his weapon, he could guess what the girl was using in her sorcery, even as she looked so obviously from the race of Man this girl was a threat.

"You who captured my kinsmen, release them unharmed and I shall make your death quick."

"How persuasive," Hermione answered, and without the cloak muffling her voice it was clear she was female. "Let's try that again, release my kinsman, and your men will be returned with their minds intact and their limbs attached. Your forest won't be burnt to the ground and we won't attract the Orcs here."

Haldir's face remained impassive, "The elves will stop you before that happens."

"You broke the deal, where do you think the one who gave you the message went?"

Harry, Haldir realized; Hermione had been alone the whole time, if Harry really had the nerve and daring...Lorien had not been attacked for years, but now...

"If you plan to attack us," Haldir drew out his weapons, "I will not show mercy, even to women or children."

"Well, well," Hermione held out her hands, and Haldir noticed the extravagant bracelets that encircled her wrists. "I'm all for equal rights, let's see how long you'll last."

A thick rope of red suddenly poured out from Hermione's hand, she snapped it like a whip and the end sharpened. Another crack and the bladed weapon was extending, whipping forward like a snake. Haldir dodged and the weapon smashed against the ground, narrowly missing his head. The blade suddenly swung up and struck another elf, drawing a pained cry. Hermione was jumping forward, another hand drawing back and likely preparing another weapon.

"Leave them alone!" Haldir was suddenly between the sorcerer and his wounded comrade, dagger intercepting Hermione's weapon just in time. Hermione almost ran right into him but she stopped in time, her second hand already conjuring a blood red dagger to fight against Haldir's. "If you will fight, you will fight me first!"

"You must be their captain, how considerate you are of your soldiers," Hermione's eyes glittered. "Surely you understand, then, how far I will go to bring my kinsman back!" From her other hand the bladed whip was coming back up, heading straight for Haldir's neck. The elf flung himself back just in time, avoiding the blade but allowing Hermione the opportunity to leap over him. Her outstretched hand threw the dagger forward, and the dagger suddenly divided into several small red splinters that went shooting in every direction.

"Down!" Haldir shouted, and his elves obeyed instantly, dropping down so quickly the pieces probably only grazed a few of them. Before Hermione could land on her feet he took another swing at her, managing to slice a sleeve and drawing a long cut on her arm. Hermione hissed and sprung a safe distance from him, briefly examining the freshly bleeding wound. Then she was moving again, dodging several other more arrows and another elf who tried to physically attack her.

"You may be a sorcerer, but you will eventually tire," Haldir called out, knowing Hermione likely wouldn't understand the elvish her attacker was saying. "Do not take us lightly, there are more of us and you're clearly alone without allies. Tell us where our comrades are, what are your intentions here, and how you possess your powers." Hermione looked around as she suddenly found herself surrounded by Haldir's soldiers, as one the elves suddenly launched themselves at her. "Tell me everything."

The soldiers didn't even get the chance to touch her, red spheres suddenly appeared in Hermione's hands and they exploded, sending red shards flying everywhere. The elves were flung back, thrown to the ground like rag dolls. Haldir was suddenly the only one left standing.

"I don't intend to answer your questions," Hermione straightened. Her sleeves and cloak were throughly ripped, only the clothing underneath remain intact. "You're the one who should not be taking me lightly."

Her eyes zeroed to Haldir, and she raised a hand. The ripped sleeve showed her bare arm, now covered in cuts. This time there was no question about it, from the fresh cuts blood rose to the surface, the red shards that had exploded earlier were now coming back to join the fresh droplets. The blood thickened, instead of weapons it took the shape of eyeless birds again. The birds launched themselves at Haldir and were suddenly grabbing everything they could; his clothing, his weapon, his hair...Haldir tried to beat them away but they clung on persistently, keeping him in one spot.

Hermione dashed forward, "Let's see if you elves would try deceiving us again after this!" Haldir's eyes widened as he saw the spinning orb growing in Hermione's hands, it seemed to be boiling, as if liquid fire contained in the orb. The girl jumped into the air, "I've been hoping to test out temperature manipulation!"

"Captain!" several elves cried as the sorcerer threw the blood red orb down. There was a tremendous splash and searing heat as the boiling sphere came in contact with the ground and released its wrath. The air seemed to shriek and plants died right on the spot, unable to handle the sudden onslaught. Hermione landed on one hand and knee, her eyes turning to the remaining elves.

"Now, who's next?" She knew even if her words were not understood, the meaning was clear.

"The valor, and the wizards, knew that magic was not something they could just teach the other races." The voice was soft but commanding, Hermione's eyes widened. "They knew that, in the wrong hands, magic could do much damage. Sorcery is all but outlawed, and magic only wielded with the proper mediums and tools."

The scorching fire was not dying, but the intensity of it's heat and light was. Hermione turned to see Haldir stepping out of the flames, his cloak wrapped securely around him, and only slightly burnt.

"For the sake of the world, I must contain you, or destroy you."

For a while, Hermione seemed too stunned to say anything, but her mind was already racing. Of course the elves would have something akin to fire proof cloaks, it just seemed so unfair but yet something so expected. She scowled as around her the elves seemed to cheer in their own quiet way, and stood.

"Could you shut up...and die already?" What she wouldn't do to wring the life out of those arrogant elves, "You want to die in full glory and worthy of songs? There will be no songs to remember you, not once my comrade is done. Your kind will regret that they did not simply handed over my kinsman when we asked nicely."

"Your comrade will regret the day he threatened the elves," Haldir countered coldly. "Harry will learn that challenging the elves was the most foolish decision of his life."

"Tell that to your kidnapped friends." Hermione flexed her fingers, and the elves saw red bleeding out again, no doubt prepared to morph into another summon. Haldir's face was grim as he watched her.

I must be willing to sacrifice my life for this, to protect my home and perhaps even the world from this witch, this girl-sorcerer, who will keep me here while her friend prepares an attack on us. Lorien has a great defense, but we have not faced this type of attack before, I must go back to oversee the defenses and make the appropriate preparations, particularly if Harry plans to use his captives to gain an advantage over us...

He shifted his feet into another stance, and instead of a bow or daggers this time he drew out his sword. The blade gleamed as it reflected the fire. Across from him, Hermione held up her hands, no doubt ready to start another summon.

"Shall we?" at least she wasn't sarcastic, Haldir had dealt with enough orcs who thought it funny to mock civilized customs. He raised his sword, the sooner he dealt with this the sooner he could attend to the injured and return home.

Then he heard it.

A distant cry, so soft and quiet that he could have easily dismissed it. He didn't, he couldn't, around him all the elves tensed, some of them looked horrified, all of them suspected they knew what that cry was.

"Ah," Hermione lowered her hands, "I guess it is time for you to meet your friends."

"What have you done?" Like all elves Haldir knew to stay calm even against overwhelming odds, but the fact that Hermione had heard that cry...

"I already told you it wasn't me, I'm standing in front of you." Hermione seemed to be stepping back, Haldir watched her carefully. "I would never underestimate the elves, that's why I did not argue against him. Harry grows stronger every day, but he is still the boy I remembered, the one who would risk his own life to save his friends. We do not want a war with the elves, but we will not stand idly by when one of ours is taken."

She was retreating now, soon not even Haldir's elvish sight could see, not unless he moved after her. That was done on purpose. "You have two choices now, come after me and see if you can rescue your captured friends, or go back to help. Harry didn't launch a full assault, but you know what he has done instead. If you elves are as duty bound to honour, you would leave your friends to die, they might even commit suicide to avoid being a burden: is that the fate you will leave them to?"

Haldir could not help thinking that, had he been fighting orcs, there would unlikely be any prisoners. Elves were either victorious or they died trying to be, there was no inner conflict about who to save, no guilt about having to choose.

And if they had to choose, the answer was obvious: the land and the rulers would take priority over the soldiers who were well aware they could die any moment.

The other elves were watching him, whatever their thoughts he was their captain, and they would follow him. Their mission was to save their missing friends, but a threat to their leaders took precedence over everything. Haldir crushed the feelings of doubt and guilt, turned, and ran. He wondered if the witch was amused or disappointed as he fled, the other elves quickly following him.

For he had given Hermione the chance to escape, and left his captured comrades to an unknown fate. He ran to a home that now had two sorcerers, one that could turn a dragon's might against them and one that had - amazingly, terrifyingly - done something to Lady Galadriel's mind and rattled Lothlorien's defenses.

Up next: He may be imprisoned, but Harry can't resist taunting Boromir about their past. When Galadriel's mind is threatened, Aragorn speaks to the Gryffindor Heir.

Yes, both "Rearranging the Stars" and "Under Lightning" begin with a captured Ron, a powerful Hermione, and a mysterious Harry. That's apparently what happens to me when I write two stories at the same time. Anyone had a similar experience?

Reviews and suggestions welcomed, but if anyone wants pairings: you better have a suggestion of how it will come about, the only pairing I've read seem to be Legolas /(whoever has gone to ME usually Hermione or Harry). As of now I'm still at a loss at how to write pairings without looking like a copy of the stories already out there.