"A Visit to Middle Earth"

By Loki Palmer

Author's Note: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The Lord of the Rings and all its characters and languages belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

This fanfic is a side fanfic to "Harry Potter and the Prince of Olympus," my first fanfic that I uploaded. If interested, you, my devoted fans, may read it to understand some of the background context. Even though it is not a Harry/Hermione fic, at least it does not involve Ron/Hermione or Harry/Ginny, two fandoms that are absolute anathema to me as a devoted Harmonian. Visitors to my profile would understand why I say that.

I am certain you will recognize the secondary universe that our two heroes visit … so, without further ado, enjoy …

Chapter 1

A rainbow light shone down from the heavens onto the ward boundary of Hogwarts, and two men stepped out of it.

"Brother," said one, a tall man with shiny black hair, "tell me – why are we coming back to Midgard again?"

The other, a blond man with a hammer recognized anywhere, frowned. "My Heir, it seems, is troubled, Loki, as well as his … brother."

Loki snorted with amusement. "Olympus adopted him into his Family, it seems, just like Odin adopted me all those years ago. Why would the Allfather, or Aslan himself, trust me to accompany you to collect them, considering what has happened here? Facing either of them in their states is madness!"

"You would know something about madness, wouldn't you, Loki?"

"Ah, touché, Thor! I still say I have a bad feeling about this …"

"Aslan told us to collect them, Loki, nothing more. He didn't say anything about fighting them. What's the matter? Are you scared of a little lightning?"

Loki looked at the black storm clouds and the electric discharges that arced around them with worry. "As you know very well, Thor … I'm not fond of what follows …"

~A VISIT TO MIDDLE EARTH~

Tracing the source of the cold terror that had seized Hogwarts was no trouble for the duo as they made their way up the Grand Staircase, seeing nobody on their way.

"Ah, here we are, Loki. The Hospital Wing … our targets are right here."

"Do we want to go for the subtle route … or …"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Thor's fist knocked on the door.

"Great, Thor … why not take the brave madman's route?"

The door opened, and Thor bowed to Loki. "After you."

"Why, thank you, Thor …"

WHAM! A hammer flew out of the Wing, knocking the Trickster onto his back.

He got up with a wince. "Oh, yeah, Thor, that was a brilliant idea, to use me as a shield. What more will you think of next?"

Two cold voices sounded from within. "Who dares to disturb Us in Our hour of grief?"

"Thor and Loki Odinson of Asgard. Will you let us in?"

"Enter."

What the duo saw shocked them. Before them stood the two they had come for, Patrick Palmer, Prince of Olympus, and Harry Potter, his adopted brother and Prince of Gryffindor. Within three beds lay the Petrified figures of Lady Hermione Palmer, Lady Lacey Potter, and Sir Neville Longbottom, Knight of Olympus.

"By the Nine Realms," said Loki, "this is worse than I feared. Or it is what I feared … I can't tell which is which."

"Did I hurt you, Uncle?"

Loki shrugged it off. "Nay, Your Highness; I've had worse. You seem to be the 'hurt first, ask questions later' type, eh?"

"Can you blame me for what happened to Hermione?"

Thor shook his head. "Nay, not in the least would I blame you. I would be psychotic indeed if someone dared to hurt my Beloved in any way."

"Forgive my curiosity, but why did you come?" said Harry.

"Lord Aslan has sent us to collect you both," said Thor. "Now, there are two ways we can do this: the easy way, or the hard way."

Patrick's eyes sparked. "Hmmm … I like a challenge …"

He threw his hammer at Thor, and Thor threw his hammer back. As the two hammers met, they produced a shock wave akin to a bomb going off, blasting out the windows of the Hospital Wing and shaking the castle, whose ancient wards withstood the blast.

From his position on the ground, Patrick looked up at his ancestor. "Okay … scratch the challenge … we'll come …"

~A VISIT TO MIDDLE EARTH~

Upon arrival, Loki gave Patrick a pat on the back. "Good luck … wherever you're going."

Patrick felt a cold wave of power pass into him. "What is this?"

"Let's call it my way of helping you. Who knows, you may need it."

Walking into Aslan's throne room, the two knelt before Him. "Hail, Lord Aslan!"

"Welcome, Sons of Olympus. Allow me to introduce you to Manwë and Elbereth, King and Queen of the Valar … akin to what you would call Archangels."

"Indeed," said Manwë, "we are but servants of the Almighty One who created us all, young pilgrims."

"Why did Your Majesties summon us?"

"There is now a crisis situation on Middle Earth and We have decided that you are two of the best Istari, or wizards, we can send – besides Gandalf, of course."

"Besides Gandalf, how many Istari are there on Middle Earth?" said Harry.

"There are four others of the White Council, but one of them – Saruman – has joined with the Enemy. Even if he was to gain the Enemy's Ring and use it to conquer him, the power of the Ring would only make Saruman a new Dark Lord. Be on guard against Pride, for it leads to a great downfall. You may even find that there will be some creatures too powerful for you to conquer … for those occasions, you will need your allies and your speed. In the case in which your Prudence tells you to run, you run, but if you must fight, you fight. Your mission will be to protect the Hobbit who bears the Ring – Frodo Baggins – and his companions."

Elbereth stepped forward. "Before you go, Sons of Olympus, take this chalice and drink … it will help calm and ease the sorrow you have suffered."

As they drank the liquid within the chalice, they felt like a phoenix was singing to them in an unknown language, and drew comfort from it.

She smiled at them. "Do you feel better?"

They smiled back. "Yes, thank you, Elbereth."

She put her hands on their heads. "Then go with Our blessing ..."

~A VISIT TO MIDDLE EARTH~

The landing on the ground gave both a sharp jolt of pain.

"Patrick? How are you feeling?"

"I feel like another truck ran me down … did you get its license plate?"

"No kidding there. Next time, we should remind ourselves to pack parachutes. Where do we go from here?"

"Point me Frodo Baggins." Mjøllner swung within a direction. "That way, Harry – towards that fallen down fortress ..."

A loud screech rent the air, like nails on a chalkboard, but worse.

Patrick gave a whistle, and two Κερβεροι showed up, excited to help their Masters. Thei aforementioned Masters saddled themselves.

"No time to lose, Harry."

"Agreed. One, two, three ..."

"ΠΡΟΣΔΟΚΩ ΣΟΤΗΕΡΑ!"

A St. Bernard and a Stag Patronus came forth, shining with Seraphic Fire. The duo sped after them towards the mysterious black cloaks, which scattered in fear of the light.

Upon arrival, they saw a man and three hobbits gathered around a hobbit writhing in pain.

"Strider, what's happened to Frodo?" said one hobbit.

"The Nazgûl stabbed him with a Morgul blade," said Strider (the man). "I dread to think what might have happened next if these mysterious flaming animals didn't arrive. Whatever new Magic this is, the Nazgûl cannot bear it. I fear this is beyond my skill to heal. Samwise, do you know kingsfoil?"

"Aye," said Samwise, "it's a weed."

"Go find some … it may help to slow the poison. As for the two of you Istari, we owe you some thanks for driving the Nazgûl away. Who are you?"

"Patrick Palmer. The other is Harry Potter, and we are at your service, Strider."

"I must admit, you are curious people for Istari … why, you don't even look old. I would ask what land you hail from, but we don't have time for that. Can you help?"

"All we would know how to do would be to slow the poison down, not to heal it. It won't kill him, right?"

Strider shook his head. "No. Their Master wants the Ring-bearer alive … given enough time, the poison will turn him into a wraith, and he will be subservient to their commands."

Samwise came back. "Here we go, Strider."

Strider took it and crushed it in his hands, making a poultice out of it and applying itl to the wound. Patrick and Harry applied their hands to the wound and cooked it with Seraphic Fire, hopeful that it would help. Frodo cried out in pain.

"What are you doing to him?"

"Trying to help him, Master Samwise. I fear that is all we can do, but this requires greater skill to heal. Where were you going, Strider?"

"We were going to Rivendell, where the Elves live, but with a wound like this, who knows if he can last for the rest of our journey?"

"Uh, Pat?"

"What is it, Harry?"

"Someone's coming ..."

Their eyes widened in wonder upon seeing an Elf-maiden. Upon seeing Strider, she beamed. "Aiya, Estel! Adar nin mennant le toled." (Hail, Estel. Father sent me to find you.)

"Aiya, Arwen! Frodo harn. In tâd istari hin menner Nazgûl nored." (Hail, Arwen! Frodo is wounded. These two wizards sent the Nazgûl running.)

Arwen looked in amazement at the wizards mentioned, then turned to Frodo.

"Frodo, im Arwen. Telin le thaed. Tolo dan nan galad." (Frodo, I'm Arwen. I've come to help you. Come back to the light.)

Frodo shuddered and gasped for air.

"He won't last long," she said. "I will take him."

"Arwen, there are five Ringwraiths out there."

"I don't fear them, Estel."

"Χαρι, μενου μετα των αλλων χοββιτων." (Harry, stay with the other hobbits.)

"Και συ? Τι ποιησεις?" (And you? What will you do?)

"Τι σκεπτει?" (What do you think?)

Arwen turned to Patrick. "Well, young Istar … would you care to provide some cover?"

Patrick saddled up on his canine mount. "I'm ready when you are ..."

~A VISIT TO MIDDLE EARTH~

Arwen's horse Asfaloth ran like the wind, Patrick not far behind providing cover as best as he could, throwing lightning into the face of each Nazgûl who approached too close.

At the Bruinen river, they turned around and Arwen drew her sword.

"Give us the Halfling, accursed She-Elf!"

"Do you want him? Come and claim him!"

Patrick got off of his mount and stood in the river to protect them.

"Get out of our way, young Istar. You are no match for the might of Mordor. Stand aside … or die where you stand!"

"I faced off against a Troll – why should I be scared of you? Go back to the shadows from whence you came, or you will feel my wrath!"

"You are a fool … prepare to meet your doom ..."

Mjøllner flew to knock the leader off of his horse. The battle was an adrenaline-fuelled blur of energy with Arwen chanting in the background, summoning up water horses for backup …

~A VISIT TO MIDDLE EARTH~

Patrick opened up his eyes and saw he was lying in a bed. "What happened?"

"Ah, our young Istar is awake," said a voice. "You had us worried there for a while, Patrick."

Patrick's eyes widened in some shock, for the voice which spoke came from someone who looked like his grandfather Zeus. The surroundings told him he was not back in Olympus, though.

He looked to his side. "Χαρι? Οπου εσμεν?" (Harry? Where are we?)

Harry smiled. "Εν οικω Κυριου Ελρονδος εσμεν. Πατερ Κυριας Αρουενος εστιν." (We are in the House of Lord Elrond. He is Lady Arwen's father.)

Patrick looked back at the Zeus lookalike. "My apologies, sir. You look like my dear Grandfather Zeus, that's all."

A warm chuckle sounded from the old man. "There is no need for an apology, and I can assure you that is not my name. I am Gandalf – an Istar like yourselves, although you are far younger than me. If it is not too sensitive a question, how old are you both?"

"Twelve years," both said.

"My word, is that a young age! You are but children, and you have that kind of power?"

"My Mum and Dad explained that there are some people who are able to manipulate Magic, and others who are not. Patrick and I are two that can," said Harry.

Gandalf nodded. "I see. Ah, the rest of our group has arrived."

Arwen entered followed by an elf who carried himself with an air of nobility.

"Ah, dearest Arphen … the house of Rivendell is ever in your debt for protecting my daughter."

Seeing that Elrond had spoken to him, Patrick ignored the question about this name; perhaps there would be a later explanation. "Lord Elrond, you are too kind, but I did it not for the sake of a debt … it was the right thing to do. By the way, thanks for the backup of those water horses. Would you think I would leave a damsel, even a fierce fighter like your daughter, out there to get herself killed by five powerful bullies?"

Arwen laughed. "Ah, Hîrbar helped us pick it out aright – you are as noble as your name. If I was not engaged already, such a feat would be enough to win my hand."

Arphen pointed out the Olympus Lordship ring on his hand. "As nice as such an offer would be – no offense to you or Lord Elrond – I'm already taken, thank you."

"So am I," said Hîrbar, pointing out his Potter Lordship ring. "In fact, saving a damsel was what married him in the first place."

Strider entered. "Well, I guess that means two less males on my turf. I bet that hammer packs a wallop."

"Speaking of which," said Arphen, "what happened to it?"

"We last saw it in the Bruinen River," said Lord Elrond. "None of us could move it."

"Better clear some space," said Arphen. He whistled and his hammer came flying to his hand, then he dropped it on the ground beside his bed.

"Out of gratitude for your support so far, we have decided to give the both of you Sindarin names, as well as the honor of being known as Elf friends," said Lord Elrond.

"Sindarin is one of two Elvish languages. The other one, Quenya, is an older one, but it is not as common," said Gandalf.

Ah, there was the explanation for the new names. "Thank you, Lord Elrond," they both said.

"DOGPILE!" said four hobbits as they ran into the room and jumped on Arphen.

"Oy, get off me!"

"Meriadoc, Peregrin, Samwise, and Frodo, I suggest you do as he says," said Gandalf. "He's not the kind to repeat himself."

"Oh, Gandalf, whatever could be wrong with a harmless tickle fight?" said one hobbit – either Meriadoc or Pippin. He then broke off into laughter with the other hobbits as Arphen and Hîrbar started to turn the tables and win the fight.

"Okay! We surrender! We surrender!"

Gandalf smiled. "Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee you have met already. The other two, rather well-known as troublemakers, are Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took."

Arphen stretched and made himself as comfortable as he could. "I suppose you wish to know our story." He turned to Hîrbar. "Oπου αρχη της ιστοριας εστιν? (Where is the beginning of the story?)

Hîrbar gave him a shrug. "Just start the story somewhere."

"You may as well start from telling us about this mysterious language you speak," said Gandalf. "I've never heard its like before in all my years."

"Gandalf, it is a language called Greek, one of the more ancient languages of my world," said Arphen. "You see, my father's side of the family comes from a powerful group of wizards, so powerful the people of ancient Greece would worship them as gods and goddesses, believing them to live on a high mountain called Olympus. Chief among these is Zeus, also known as the Thunderer and Cloud-Gatherer. My mother's side of the family was powerful too – the people of ancient Norway worshiped them as the gods and goddesses of Asgard. Unlike the ancient Greeks, whose Mount Olympus does exist on Earth, Asgard is itself a separate Realm, one of Nine Realms. While Odin is the leader of the Asgardians, his son Thor – considered their God of Thunder – is powerful in his own right. It is from him that I have received this hammer – Mjøllner. The only person who can wield it is one whom it considers worthy, or one to whom its owner gives permission. To anyone else, it would feel like it weighed as much as the Universe itself."

Lord Elrond nodded. "That explains why none of us could move it. Even though the ancients worshiped your family as gods, they are not, are they?"

"No, they are not. Like the Valar, they are servants of the Almighty. Unlike the Valar, they can die, though it is almost impossible to pull off such a feat, due to our speed and dueling ability."

"With your permission, Arphen, I will let my Elves be the judge of that."

"Permission granted, Lord Elrond."

"Arphen, Hîrbar said that saving a damsel was what married you. Who was the damsel, and from what did you save her?" said Arwen.

"Her name was Hermione Granger, a brilliant, beautiful Muggleborn – a Magical person born of parents who cannot wield Magic – and I saved her from a Troll that had invaded our school of Hogwarts." Upon seeing their widened eyes, he said, "I take it you do know what a Troll is, right? Are we talking about a creature at least 12 feet tall, stinky, not to mention it is one of the dumbest creatures on the planet?"

The company cracked up in laughter. "Succinct, Arphen, but accurate!" said Gandalf. "Let us not forget their vulnerability to light, though I fear the Enemy will not allow that vulnerability to continue."

Arphen shrugged. "I don't know if I could have killed this one with light, but it was threatening my Beloved's safety, so I killed it."

Arwen turned to Hîrbar. "What about you?"

"A Dark Lord by the name of Voldemort killed my parents, leaving me an orphan with this scar from when he tried to kill me at the age of one year. Arphen was there to watch out for me, so we grew up like brothers in the land of England, even though we were not related by ties of blood. I fell in love with his cousin, Lacey – beautiful like her mother, but if you angered her, she would beat you to a pulp like her father – and married her at Christmastime of the same year that Arphen married Hermione."

"How old were you both?" said Strider.

"11 years, Strider," said Arphen, "but my Family has a faster physical maturity than most other wizards."

"This Voldemort person – did you encounter him again?" said Gandalf.

"During our first year, he had taken over one of our Professors," said Hîrbar. "He kidnapped our wives, but we caught up with him and Arphen beat him up. Voldemort tried to kill him, but killed Arphen's sister Iris instead, at which point our friend Neville grew in size and finished Arphen's work by smashing him through a mirror. His goal was a Philosopher's Stone, which, in theory, would have made him immortal."

"Alas, an immortal Dark Lord would be terrible for you to face," said Lord Elrond.

"All too true, Lord Elrond," said Arphen. "Our next year has been torturous for both of us, with a mysterious beast from a mythical Chamber of Secrets within the school Petrifying students left and right. Much to our outrage, Hermione, Lacey and Neville were three of the victims. During our grieving, a summons came to call us out here. Lord Manwë sent us to help the mission, so here we are."

"You shall learn more about this mission when the Council convenes, Arphen and Hîrbar Randir. Again, we welcome you to Rivendell and hope your visit will be peaceful."

They bowed. "Our thanks, Lord Elrond."

"While we wait for the Council, may I suggest that Strider and I teach our Istari some Sindarin?" said Gandalf.

Arphen's eyes lit up. "I think we would love that."

During the intervening time, the duo learned Sindarin from Gandalf, Strider, Arwen, and Legolas when he arrived. They also trained in fencing, though the Elves who trained them noted that Arphen was not joking about his or Hîrbar's speed – about the equal of the Elves. In addition, Meriadoc and Peregrin, to the amusement of Strider and Gandalf, taught them about the art of smoking pipe-weed – a plant of the genus Nicotiana.

~A VISIT TO MIDDLE EARTH~

The day of the Council came.

"Friends from distant lands and other worlds," said Lord Elrond, "you have come in alliance against the forces of Mordor. Bilbo Baggins, come forward and speak."

A wrinkled hobbit came forth to tell his part of the tale – about how he encountered Gollum, took the Ring from him, and used it to great success in his mission to help the Dwarves take Erebor from the dragon Smaug under the leadership of Thorin Oakenshield, long since dead in the Battle of the Five Armies.

"And now it has passed to my nephew, Frodo," he said, finishing the tale.

"Indeed, it has," said Gandalf. "Frodo, bring forth the Ring."

Frodo did so, putting the Ring in the center of the Council.

"Isildur's Bane," said Boromir, a man from Gondor. "This is what has caused us so much worry? Why not take this weapon and use it against the Enemy?"

Strider stood up. "Do you know nothing, Boromir? None of us can wield it; it answers to the Enemy alone."

"What would a mere Ranger from the North know of such matters?"

Legolas stood up. "This is no mere Ranger! He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Heir of Elendil! You owe him your allegiance."

"Havo dad, Legolas." (Sit down, Legolas.)

Boromir frowned. "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king."

"Who holds the throne of Gondor at the present time?" said Arphen.

"That would be Boromir's father, Denethor," said Gandalf. "He is but a Steward of the Throne of Gondor."

"It is all too correct that the Ring's alternate name is Isildur's Bane," said Lord Elrond. "I was there, those many years ago, when an alliance of Men and Elves joined together against the Enemy, Sauron. He broke Elendil's blade and killed him, but Isildur, the King's son, took the broken blade and used it to cut off the Ring. The Enemy disappeared, and his allies flew into hiding. Isildur and I climbed the slopes of Mount Doom, where the Enemy had forged the Ring. Isildur could have ended Sauron once and for all if he tossed the Ring into the fire, but he refused and claimed the Ring for himself. He died a short time later, leaving Gondor without a King for many, many years until the rightful King should return. We of Rivendell have re-forged the blade of your ancestor, Aragorn, and we hope you shall make good use of it."

As Aragorn accepted the blade and withdrew it from his scabbard, Arphen and Hîrbar lowered their gaze in respect – and, it seemed to them, there was a glorious crown of light on his head.

"The obvious question is," said Gimli the Dwarf, "who is to take the Ring into Mordor?"

"Nobody could," said Boromir. "Mordor is filled with more than Orcs. Its air is a poisonous fume, and it is as dry as a desert. Not with a thousand men could you pull off this feat. It is folly."

"That's a great speech to bring the Council down, Boromir," said Arphen.

"You think you could take the Ring there, Arphen? Or what about Hîrbar?"

"Not in your wildest dreams would I even do so," said Arphen.

"That Ring gives me the creeps," said Hîrbar. "Even if anyone was to wield the Ring and use it to defeat this Enemy, that person would take up his throne as the new Dark Lord – not a prospect I like, thank you very much."

A heated argument broke out between the three of them, with Legolas and Gimli joining in the fray. Gandalf frightened them all into silence as he said:

"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul,

Ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!"

While he pronounced the words on the One Ring, the sky darkened, lightning flashed, and his voice had taken on a dark edge that had the Elves stopping their ears. Even Arphen and Hîrbar dived for cover, such was the terror that had consumed them. As the sky cleared …

"Is it safe to come out?" the duo said.

"Yes, it is safe," said Elrond. "Never has anyone heard those words in Rivendell, Mithrandir."

"Let us hope none will hear that voice again, Lord Elrond. I had to make a point as to the danger we all face if we do not destroy the Ring."

"No arguments there," said Hîrbar. "The Ring must not stay here."

"Indeed not," said Lord Elrond.

"What we need is somebody who can pass into Mordor undetected," said Arphen. "Hmmm ... why not Frodo?"

Boromir burst into laughter. "The Halfling? If you want to add folly to folly …"

"The Enemy would crush you and the Kingdom of Gondor in two seconds flat if you took the Ring, Boromir. Aragorn is right in saying none of us could wield the Ring."

Frodo sighed. "I was hoping my part would have been over by now … but if no one else can, I will, though I do not know the way."

Gandalf laid a hand on his shoulder. "I will help you to bear this burden, Frodo Baggins … as long as it is yours to bear."

Arphen turned to his friend. "Are you ready for another adventure?"

"You bet, Arphen." They joined with Gandalf, saying, "We're coming along."

"You have my sword," said Aragorn.

"And my axe!" said Gimli.

"And my bow," said Legolas.

Boromir joined the group. "You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

Samwise came out of his hiding place. "Mister Frodo's not going anywhere without me!"

Elrond cracked a smile. "It is hard to keep the two of you separate … even when I summon one of you for a secret council …"

"OY! WE'RE COMING TOO!" said Meriadoc, as he and Peregrin came out of their hiding places.

"You would have to tie us in a sack to stop us," said Peregin. "After all, you need people of intelligence on this mission … quest … thing …"

"Let's not forget some lighthearted Comedy Relief," said Arphen under his breath to Hîrbar as they snorted in amusement.

"I guess the intelligence bit rules you out, Pip," said Meriadoc.

More snorts of laughter sounded.

"Arphen, what are you two laughing at?" said Peregrin.

"You two remind us of a couple troublemakers back home," said Hîrbar. "How can we not help laughing?"

Elrond nodded. "You will be known as the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great!" said Peregin. "Uh … where are we going?"

Arphen and Hîrbar made a facepalm. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Hîrbar?"

"What's that, Arphen?"

"We're doomed."

Author's Note: I hope you have enjoyed this! Read and review – no flames, please! More to come!

Smiles and laughter,

Loki Palmer