A/N: I probably won't update for a couple of weeks after this, because I have about a million assignments due in. If you want to read more of my stuff, I've posted a new story. You can check it out on my Author's page. It's called "A Slightly Different Fifth Year."
Again, as with the last chapter, I have muddled some paragraphs and dialogue from the novel. I don't think I used that many.
Chapter Four ---------- The Giant SquidThere had only been one time in Harry's entire life when he'd actually seen a dead person up close. Cedric Diggory had even died in front of him, dropping straight to the ground like a stone plunging into the ocean. He had seen Sirius die, but that wasn't the same thing, he hadn't left a body behind. Now, only a few weeks after his demise Harry hadn't thought he would have to witness a death so soon, and one that reminded him so much of Cedric's, too. This one actually had a body.
Legless.
He was dead.
Harry had awoken that morning to a small film of sunlight seeping over the horizon, shining faintly passed the tiny leaves of the trees and casting odd shapes on the sleepers in the clearing. It seemed a perfectly innocent setting, with no indication of the horror Harry was about to witness. No one in the Fellowship had troubled to wake themselves yet, except Harry, and as soon as he did, he wished he hadn't, because he'd immediately spotted a dead Legless.
Legless had been lying stiffly on the hard, cold earth, eyes wide, glazed, unseeing . . .
It was then Harry had started panicking. Some thing had crept up to the Fellowship during the night and slaughtered Legless on his watch duty. Harry didn't know what sort of creatures lurked the night in Middle Earth, so his mind travelled – subconsciously or consciously – straight to the magical creatures on his world that could have been responsible for this. His immediate thought had been a lethifold. Rather like dementors, in that a patronus could stop them, and they projected the feelings of horror and despair. That was just the sort of creature that could have killed Legless without attracting anyone's notice. Silent and deadly, were lethifolds, preying on the unsuspecting.
As soon as Harry had come to that revelation, guilt had settled like a fiery rash in the pit of his stomach. 'If he'd only been awake?' he'd thought to himself. 'If only he hadn't gone to sleep? If only he hadn't been so tired? If only he'd been awake? If only he'd heard Legless being attacked? If only he'd been awake?' He knew how to cast a patronus, he could have defeated the lethifold, stopped it before it snacked on Legless.
Harry hadn't exactly been thinking clearly for a full minute, but then, a sort of revelational calm had settled over him. He couldn't exactly be sure that it was a lethifold, could he? They mightn't even exist in Middle Earth, right? It really wasn't his fault at all, was it? Just like Sirius's death wasn't his fault. That was right.
Now, at this moment, once Harry's panic attack was over, he awkwardly, reluctantly, stood on shaky knees and made his way over the de . . . Legless.
He really was quite dead though, wasn't he?
Harry stood staring stupidly, disbelievingly, at the dead man at his feet. How could this have happened? Why did it happen? Why now?
Harry panicked again!
What if the Fellowship thought he had done it? They would certainly have reason to; they already suspected him of spying as it was. Harry gulped against a suddenly raw throat as he sighted Gimling's gleaming battle-axe in the corner of his vision.
Would the dwarf be happily cleaning Harry's blood off the sharp edges in the near future?
He was being stupid. They wouldn't blame him. Gandalf trusted him, after all. Gandalf would believe him.
His decision made, Harry scrunched silently over to the snoring old wizard and peered speculatively down on him. His large wizard's hat lay on top of his face but despite that obscurity, he still looked a lot like Dumbledore. Perhaps it was a common theme for wizards to fit into this stereotypical image? Long white hair and beard, long crooked nose, spectacular robes that brushed the ground. Though, Gandalf's could hardly be termed spectacular. Monkish, would be a better description.
Harry shook his head.
What was he doing? Stalling for time? Actually, now that Harry thought about it, it seemed he was doing exactly that. Nervousness didn't even cover Harry's feelings in that moment. Potential pants peeing might better describe his emotions. He was even surprised to feel his hands had gone all sweaty.
Harry took a deep breath, then nudged Gandalf with his foot. The wizard made a sort of mumble in his sleep, but other than that, he showed no indication he'd felt Harry's foot against his rump.
And he should have, too, since it was a very sensitive area.
Harry tried a different tactic. He bent over and plucked Gandalf's hat off of his face. If that didn't wake him then – "
Harry jumped back in horror, nearly tripping over his own feet.
Wide, unseeing eyes, cold and hard . . .
He was dead!
NO!
Was everyone dead then? Harry quickly scoured the camping area, and to his relief found the gentle rise and fall of breath on the rest of his companions, indicating that, yes, they were still very much alive and, no, he didn't need to drop to the ground like a wailing tot.
But wait! . . something didn't pan out. Hadn't Gandalf been snoring? Harry looked down at Gandalf and, yes, he still was.
Without noticing his actions, Harry reached up and scratched his head in that universal gesture that smacked of confusion and dumbness, the first time Harry was ever forced to put on such a display.
What was going on?
Harry glanced from Gandalf to Legless, repeating this motion three more times, then finally stopping to peer intently at the glowing man. Was that a rise of his chest he just saw? Yes.
He was alive!
Harry felt like whooping!
. . . then he felt like an idiot.
Obviously in Middle Earth wizards, and what ever Legless was, slept with their eyes open, no matter how odd it seemed.
He felt like a right sort of numbskull. He may as well bash his head over repeatedly with a sign that read:
Really stupid bloke here!
2 pounds for admission.
Harry snorted. That would be a sight he'd pay to see. The-Boy-Who-Lived, publicly humiliated, even more so than before. Fudge would certainly dance to that.
Harry shook his head at the absurdity of his thoughts. He had no cause to think of Fudge now. In fact, he had no cause to think of any of the problems he had while on earth. As a matter of fact, here, in Middle Earth, he was free! No one knew who he was. No one knew he was famous. No one would stop to gawk, rudely pointing at his forehead. No one knew about the Boy-Who-Lived and why he lived. And most importantly, they didn't care!
Harry's stomach gave a pleasant jolt that travelled up his chest and into his heart. He was finally a nobody and he loved it!
A large weight landed on his shoulder, talons digging uncomfortably, though familiarly, into his skin.
"Hello girl," Harry gave Hedwig's wing an affectionate stroke.
Hedwig rubbed her head against his cheek, all the while making a low, almost indistinct rasping noise, presumably out of pleasure.
"Were you watching over me last night?"
Hedwig hooted. Loudly.
Harry wasn't prepared for the reaction it caused.
Legless sprang to his feet with an odd flexibility Harry had only ever seen in frogs, whipping out his sling and arrows. Gimling shot up from his pallet, snatching his enormous axe, and stood with legs apart, breathing gruffly. Both the muggles rolled over and reached for their swords, not quite as fast and sprightly as Legless and Gimling, but fast enough to surprise Harry. Gandalf jumped up quickly, but he held his staff parallel to his body, as if knowing that there was no real danger.
By the end of this spectacle everyone besides Gandalf had aligned their weapons straight in Harry's wide-eyed direction, looking like they might make use of them at any moment. The little people, however, snored on, oblivious to the ranging conflict.
"Er . . ." said Harry.
There was a small twitter in the distance as a bird greeted the new day.
"Put your weapons down!" snapped Gandalf. Clearly he was not a morning person.
The four men obliged, but Legless, Gimling, and Bore-me-dear did so with great reluctance and a lot of grumbling – which came mostly from the dwarf. Aragorn was the only one who looked abashed.
"Well, this is certainly a festive way to start the morning!" exclaimed Gandalf, frowning a little below his eyebrows.
At least, Harry thought he was frowning. The old wizard could have been constipated for all Harry knew.
"We shan't have another spectacle like this tomorrow, shall we?" said Gandalf.
Everyone, including Harry, mumbled his apologies.
"Where's the breakfast?" a voiced asked. "Don't tell me we're on our way, now. I haven't eaten anything yet!"
"Peregrin Took!" cried Gandalf. Harry almost snorted. "You would think on your stomach even if death were near you."
Peregrin Took grew distinctly red in the face. Gandalf continued. "But you are due to wake up now, and wake you will, yourself and the others."
The little man jumped to Gandalf's suggestion, first going to a chubby person called Sam, and fairly ordering him to start breakfast, then went to nudge the rest from their sleep.
Half an hour later Harry sat near Pippin – which he found out to be Peregrin Took's nickname – and another little person called Merry around the morning fire, enjoying a meal of hot sausages, cheese, tomatoes, and homemade bread. The sausages weren't bad either. They reminded him of Hagrid's the first time he and Harry had met in that hut on the sea.
Pippin and Merry were acquainting him with the rest of the Fellowship and their histories.
"Gimli is a dwarf, in case you didn't know. They're very strong you know, dwarves I mean – ".
"Well they'd have to be Merry," said Pippin, in a half knowledgeable, half mischievous tone. "D'you see how big that axe is? Almost the length of me, give an inch and take off the bit that severs heads and the measure would be the same."
"Right you are, Pip!"
Harry sniggered.
"D'you see that now? You made him laugh at me!"
"Well if he laughs it's nobody's business but his own."
Harry continued to listen to Merry and Pippin berate each other, all the while watching Sam bustle over Frog-o like a miniature Mrs Weasley, or even a less enthusiastic Dobby.
"What about you guys?" asked Harry, interrupting their playful banter. "Who, I mean what are you?"
Harry felt that might have been too rude a question, but the hobbits didn't think so. On the contrary, they seemed to get excited.
"Well first of all we aren't guys, whatever those are. We, my good sir, are hobbits," concluded Merry in a very formal tone and knuckling his forehead.
"So you're hobbits," said Harry with dawning eyes. "And, I hate to tell you this but you're guys, too."
"I'm sorry Harry, but I think I would have known if I was a guy," said Pippin.
Harry snorted. "No, I mean. The word guy is another word for male. Like, I'm a guy, you're a guy, Legless' is a guy, Gandalf – ".
Harry stopped abruptly because Pippin and Merry had cracked into full out laughter.
"What?" Harry questioned, puzzled.
"L-Legless!" said Merry, barely managing to get the word out, then went on chuckling.
"That is his name, right?" asked Harry, his tone hopeful and embarrassed at the same time.
"No Harry," said Pippin, managing to calm down somewhat. "It's Le-go-las. But I see where you got confused. Elvish names can be a muddle in the head, my head anyway."
"Everything's a muddle in your head Pippin," Merry said.
Before Pippin could open his mouth to reply, Harry jumped in. "You know, I think I might have confused other people's names, too," he admitted.
"Not to worry," said Pippin, with a sly look at Merry, and for a split second Harry was reminded of the Weasley twins. "Just tell us the ones you think you got wrong, and we'll help you."
During the course of the next two minutes, amidst uproarious hobbit laughter, Harry discovered that his Frog-o was actually Frodo, Bore-me-dear was Boromir, and Gimling was Gimli, though, the last one wasn't much of a difference in Harry's opinion.
Then he remembered something.
"Pippin, what did you mean when you said Legolas is an elvish name?"
Pippin answered with a mouthful of bread and cheese. "'ell, 'e's an ef, 'arry. I taut n'dalf shai' eu 'ad evs in or world."
What?
"Excuse me?"
Pippin gulped down his food and cleared his throat. "I said he's an elf. How could you not know? I thought Gandalf said you had elves in your world."
An elf?
"We do. But they don't look like Legolas."
Pippin frowned, puzzlingly while Merry looked up in interest. "What do they look like then?"
"Well they're about your height – " Harry began.
The two hobbits started sniggering. "Imagine that Merry. Elves in Harry's world are our height."
Harry was enjoying himself. He really liked the two hobbits. "Yeah. We call them house elves."
"Why do you call them house elves?" asked Pippin.
Suddenly, Harry didn't feel like it was a good idea to tell them. If Legolas was an elf, he was clearly a free elf. It was also obvious that he wasn't treated at all like the elves in Harry's world. Would he be offended if he heard from Merry or Pippin about the poor treatment of house elves on earth?
"No reason," he told them.
Sam abruptly appeared before them, holding a quarter full plate of sausages.
"Would you like some more, Mister Harry? They have to go now or they'll spoil."
'Sam,' thought Harry, ' was the one reminding him more and more of a house elf.'
"No thanks, I'm not hungry."
Merry and Pippin however, looked delighted. "Gives us it then, Sam!" they said, and snatched the remaining sausages from the plate. Harry had a feeling they often pilfered things without permission.
Sam squawked. "I was just going to ask Gandalf if he'd like some. Thanks to your greedy guts I've nothing but an empty plate to offer him."
"Better an empty plate than nothing at all Sam," said one or the other. Harry wasn't sure; he was too busy trying to rein in his laughter.
"What's this?" said Gandalf, coming from his boulder to hover over them. "Cease this folly Peregrin Took. Why aren't you ready? We are leaving. Samwise, should you pack Bill, or should we leave without him?"
"Bill!" Sam exclaimed, and rushed off to tend the pony.
"The rest of you had better gather your belongings," said Gandalf, and walked off to the huddle that was Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli and Legolas.
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The rest of the next few hours passed in much the same scattered confusion and laughter. Though, by the end of the morning nobody really had time to talk much; they were too busy trying to catch their breaths. Up, down, and in between small grassy hills they went, across boulders, through tree clusters, and passed lonesome landmarks every once in a while. For miles they travelled, Harry wishing he could ride his Firebolt, but knowing that the Fellowship would probably panic if he did. And Harry wouldn't put it passed Legolas to shoot him while on take off.
Still they travelled until well into the sun's zenith, Harry wondering when they were going to stop for a rest and some food. Pippin sadly informed him that they weren't going to stop until nightfall, something he had learned the hard way, it seemed.
But Harry had another problem.
He needed the loo.
The last time he had been was probably a day ago, so he wasn't exactly surprised. But that didn't mean he had to accept it.
What to do?
Sometimes he would spot one or two of the Fellowship dropping behind on occasion, presumably for the chance to use the back of a tree, but Harry was neither very outgoing nor very macho. The truth was, he was embarrassed and a little intimidated. If he dropped back now, everyone would know what he was doing, they might even stop, too, as they did with the hobbits, to assure there was no danger. And even if they didn't, he couldn't guarantee someone wouldn't follow him, perhaps on the thought that they might as well utilise the opportunity?
Harry had a sudden image of Gimli squatting behind a boulder, hacking the leaves off the nearest tree with his axe, then putting the leaves to their much needed use. Harry shuddered. He shouldn't be imagining that at all.
Then there was also the awkward fact that Harry didn't feel at all comfortable with the Fellowship, besides Gandalf, Merry, and Pippin, whom he liked very much. Theother threehad tried to kill him after all.
There was nothing for it. He would have drop back.
Harry casually, and quite surreptitiously, so as not to cause notice, began slowing down. Half an hour later he was near the back of the group and getting desperate.
Just a few more minutes, Harry. Hold on for just a few more minutes.
But Harry had forgotten something. The person bringing up the rear of the group was Boromir, hardly Harry's best friend. Highly suspicious, highly muscly, and – Harry took a sniff as he stepped in line with the weapon-clad man – highly odorous. Care for an armpit anyone?
How was he ever going to sneak passed Boromir's notice?
Harry put his hand in the pocket of his robes and fingered his wand.
Should he?
It was an emergency.
His mind made up, Harry slipped his wand from out of his pocket and discreetly pointed it at the sword sheath tied to Boromir's belt.
"Dissendo," he whispered.
The tie unlooped itself and the heavy weapon clattered painfully onto Boromir's feet, causing him to yell out and stumble a little. Harry took the opportunity and shot off into the bushes while the big man's attention was elsewhere.
He hadn't counted on Boromir yelling out in pain. He was lucky he got out of there before anyone turned around. He hoped no one noticed him missing.
A minute later Harry stepped out of the bushes feeling refreshed, and speed-walked to catch up with the rest of the Fellowship. They hadn't gotten very far, and Harry knew there were two reasons why. The first was that the hobbits couldn't walk as fast as the rest of them, so the Company deliberately slowed down so as not to leave any behind. It made for a leisurely walk, but meant that they wouldn't be getting to their destination anytime soon. The second was because it was passed lunchtime and nobody really felt like rushing anyway, being too tired from the long trek as it was.
Just as Harry stepped behind Boromir, Merry asked where he was. There were a lot of heads turning as the Fellowship tried to find him. Finally, Boromir turned around and found himself with a face full of teenage boy.
"What are you doing back there?" he asked in, Harry's opinion, a highly mistrustful tone.
The rest of the Fellowship stopped and turned around.
"Just tying my shoelace," he lied, hoping there were such things as shoelaces in this world.
Boromir glared at him, but other than that he gave no indication he might believe Harry. In fact, he turned right around and continued walking, the rest of the Fellowship doing the same.
Harry jogged to catch up to the hobbits, thinking he had to be stupid to use magic on Boromir when he could have just used the excuse of tying his shoelace to lag behind in the first place.
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The rest of the day continued as before. Gandalf and Gimli leading the troupe nearer to a particularly cluttered group of mountains. As they came closer, the ground grew less green and more red, and the trees virtually disappeared. No birds dotted the sky.
Eventually, they came across a deep channel in the ground, as dry as sandpaper. But near it was a path, broken and decayed, wounding its way around the ruined walls and paving stones of an ancient highroad.
"Ah! Here it is at last!" said Gandalf, stopping briefly to stare. "This is where Sirannon, the Gate-stream ran. But what has happened to the water, I cannot guess; it used to be swift and noisy. Come! We must hurry on. We are late as it is."
They followed the winding road for many miles, Harry feeling footsore and tired. How much longer?
They rounded corners and veered off in all directions until Gandalf finally pointed to a low cliff with a broken and jagged top. Over it, trickling water dripped through a wide cleft.
"Hmm," said Gandalf. "Indeed things have changed since last I was here. But if I remember correctly, there was a flight of steps cut into the rock at the side. Let us go and see if it is still there."
They found the steps, everyone besides Gimli slowly trudging up them. Harry learned, by questioning the hobbits, that Gimli's cousin or something lived to where they going, and that was why he was so excited.
Finally, they reached the top of the steps, only to found that the cliff where the water was trickling out of wasn't a cliff, but a dam.
"Now we know where the Gate-stream water went!" said Gandalf, frowning a little.
The water, Harry saw, looked like a black, ominous lake. And at the back of the lake were vast stone cliffs, their faces pale and scraggly in the fading light. It looked like a dead end to Harry.
But not to Gandalf, it seemed. "There are the walls of Moria," he said, pointing across the water. "We will have to either produce a boat or go up the slopes to get to the other side of the lake. In any case, we cannot take Bill."
Sam cried out.
"Confound it Samwise!" snapped Gandalf, already tired from the long trek and loosing what little patience he had. "The beast has four legs and hoofs. He cannot climb the slopes."
Sam grudgingly complied, and went to get the packs from the pony's back.
Gandalf's expression softened. "He will be safer away from here Sam. He knows the way home. He will be alright."
Harry thought he heard Sam sniff.
As Bill the Pony trotted off the way they came, Gandalf led the group up the slopes ("We might as well climb to the sun," grumbled Merry) then down the slopes (Harry almost lost his hat while tripping over his shoelace) by the time they reached the narrow strip of land between the cliff face and the lake it was completely dark, the light of the moon their only beacon in the night.
They made their way across the strip. Harry jumped in alarm when he heard a loud plop directly on his right. He sighed in relief; a fish had flopped in and out of the water.
The rest of the Fellowship however, grew wary, staring intently at the black pool as it bubbled unnaturally where the fish landed back in.
Harry gulped. Was that supposed to happen?
Suddenly, Frodo, who was walking in front of Harry, slipped on the wet mud on the lake's banks, his foot plunging into the water. Harry shot forward and caught him before he became completely submerged.
"Thankyou Harry," he said, staring at the water and shuddering.
"No problem," Harry said uncertainly, stepping back from Frodo. Something wasn't right about this hobbit. He gave Harry an ugly feeling. Harry felt as though he wanted to be completely away from him, but completely near him at the same time. Perhaps it was that ring thing Gandalf was talking about?
They trudged onwards a little ways and came across two of the biggest holly trees Harry had ever seen; their gigantic roots were submerged like two great claws into the lake. And on one of the branches of the trees, looking quite at home and completely comfortable, sat Hedwig.
"Hedwig!" Harry cried, and as the astonished Fellowship watched, the owl swooped down and landed on Harry's shoulder.
"How did she know to find you?" asked Legolas, coming to stand next to Harry.
Harry shrugged. "She's a wizard's owl. She's really intelligent."
Then the Fellowship watched in complete speechless bafflement as Hedwig thrust out her chest importantly, and began to preen her feathers.
"It seemed as though she was waiting for you. She truly is a remarkable bird," said Legolas, staring in awe at Hedwig, the rest of the Fellowship mumbled their agreement.
Harry, though, was completely confused. He, as Harry Potter, had never been thrown over in favour of his owl. He rather enjoyed his unimportance in this universe. It seemed as though his and Hedwig's roles had been reversed somewhat.
Gandalf stood between the holly trees, running his hand over the cliff face. "Well here we are at last!" he said. "Here the Elven road from Hollin ended. The Elves planted holly on the West-door, for holly was the token of their people. Those were happier days, when there was still friendship at times between folk of different races, even between Elves and Dwarves." Gandalf looked pointedly and Gimli and Legolas.
"It was not the fault of the Dwarves that the friendship waned," said Gimli.
"I have not heard that it was the fault of the Elves," said Legolas.
"Be silent!" said Gandalf, and everyone looked on in shock. Gandalf seemed to be a lot crabbier than usual that day, and even the littlest slight set him off.
"I am not in the mood for your bickering," he continued. "I will need your help before the night is out. The doors are shut and hidden, and the sooner we find them the better!"
Gimli moved forward, tapping the stone with his axe, Legolas leaned against the rock, as if listening.
Gandalf however, stood there staring at it. "It mirrors only starlight, and moonlight," he mumbled. Walking up to the stone, he ran his hands over it, as though tracing patterns. "Can you see anything now?"
To Harry's and everyone's surprise something like a silvery, gossamer spider's web began forming until it merged into the unmistakable shape of a doorway. Runes ran down the side and across its arch.
"What does the writing say?" asked Frodo, who looked like he was trying to read the inscriptions on the arch.
"They do not say anything important," said Gandalf. "They only say: The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter. And underneath that is written: I, Narvi, made them. Celebrimor of Hollin drew these signs."
"What does it mean by speak, friend, and enter?" asked Merry.
"That is plain enough," said Gimli. "If you are a friend, you speak the password, and you can enter."
Personally, Harry thought it was too obvious, but didn't say anything.
"Do you know the password, Gandalf?" asked Boromir.
"No!" said the wizard.
The others looked dismayed.
"What was the use of bringing us to this accursed spot?" cried Boromir, glancing back with a shudder at the dark water. "You told us you had once passed through the mines. How could that be if you don't know how to enter?"
Gandalf let out an angry expulsion of breath. "I don't know the password, but I shall know it. I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Middle Earth. It will come to me. And as for your other question," he continued, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Have you no wits left? I did not enter this way. I came from the East."
Boromir went rather like Ron did when he grew embarrassed.
Gandalf touched the rock with his staff.
Annon edhellon, edro hi ammen!
Fennas nogothrim, lasto beth lammen!
Nothing happened.
An hour passed with Gandalf reciting various spells from several languages, and still nothing happened. Finally, Gandalf threw his staff on the ground and, grumbling, plonked down on a nearby rock.
The Fellowship stared with disappointed.
Suddenly Pippin leapt to his feet.
"I know!" he said, excitedly. "Why doesn't Harry try?"
Everyone, including Gandalf, turned to look at a flummoxed Harry.
Harry sighed inwardly, he didn't want to use his magic in front of the Fellowship, but it seemed he had no choice.
"Er . . . well I suppose I can give it a try. I mean I know one spell to open locked doors but it doesn't really work if the door has a previous enchantment on it . . ." he trailed off as the Company, who were beginning to look hopeful, deflated again.
"Give it a try anyway, Harry," said Gandalf. Pippin pushed him forward to stand in front of the doors, Hedwig's sharp claws clutching his shoulder blade as she struggled to keep her balance.
Harry took out his wand and pointed it at the doors, noticing the stares he was getting. Best to get this over with quickly.
He was just about to say the spell when he felt the faintest tremor wisp through his wand.
What?
A second later, the tremor gave way to a violent vibration that had Harry's whole arm shaking with it.
The Fellowship stared. Hedwig hooted.
What was –? Of course! Harry focused his gaze on both the holly trees. Could it be, that because his wand was made of holly, it was reacting to the aura stemming from the two trees? Didn't Gandalf tell him the previous day when explaining Middle Earth, that there were some plants here that had their own type of natural magic? Like the plants in Herbology. If that were true, it didn't surprise Harry that his holly-tree wand reacted that way to its Middle-Earthian tree counterparts.
Harry decided to test his theory.
He took a step back, so that his body wasn't aligned with the holly trees.
The palpitations in his wand halted immediately.
Harry sighed with relief. He didn't know how much more bizarreness he could take.
He saw Gandalf in the corner of his vision, observing knowingly.
"Are you going to go about it then, lad?" asked Gimli, with an irritated tone.
"Patience Gimli," said Gandalf. "Harry's magic has reacted to the enchantment on the door, just as he said it would. But as you can see, it has now ceased. If you would resume, Harry?"
Harry nodded, not bothering to correct Gandalf's assumption. It would be too difficult to explain anyway. Besides, he had come close.
Harry pointed his wand at the door.
"Alohamora!"
He knew it hadn't worked even before he'd finished saying the word, as the golden light that usually accompanied the Alohamora spell hadn't shone out of his wand.
"There went that hope," Gimli grumbled. "I thought Gandalf said you were powerful!"
Harry looked at him angrily. "Didn't you listen to what Gandalf just said? The magic in Middle Earth is different from mine. I probably couldn't break through this enchantment because it doesn't recognise my magic, and vice versa."
"I do not know what this vice versa means, or if it is a spell, but Harry is right," said Gandalf. "Our magicks are each potent in their own way."
A couple of minutes later found everyone brooding again.
Harry watched from his spot by the first holly tree (his wand gently trembling in his robe pocket) as Boromir picked up a stone and chucked it in to the lake. The bubbles appeared again as they had with the fish, and this time they didn't go away.
"I wish you hadn't done that, Boromir," he heard Frodo say.
Gandalf sat with his head in his hands, and looked to be in deep thought. Then he jumped up with a suddenness that startled them all. "I have it!" he cried, laughing. "A riddle. It was riddle all along, and an absurdly simple one."
Picking up his staff and lining it at the door he said in a clear voice: "Mellon!"
Harry's jaw dropped. The door creaked open, showing blackness inside and nothing else.
"Ha-ha!" said Gimli, happily, standing from his seat on a rock.
The Fellowship walked forward, Gimli in the lead, Legolas by his side, and Harry trundling behind them. Gimli was talking excitedly about, of all things, meat and hospitality.
Suddenly a cry of "Gandalf!" by Sam drew their attention. Everyone turned around just in time to see Frodo wrapped in a slimy, green tentacle, hanging twenty feet in the air.
Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli rushed forward as Sam hacked at the tentacle with his short sword. It released Frodo into Aragorn's outstretched arms, and for a glorious moment, everyone thought they had won. But then, twenty more tentacles shot out, knocking everyone aside except Frodo, which one of them grabbed again. Along with the tentacles had come a gigantic, slimy head with a wide, cavernous mouth.
'The giant squid? What was it doing here?' Harry thought stupidly, not realising the absurdity of his question.
Legolas strung his bow and let it fly at the head of the squid. It roared frighteningly, but didn't release the poor hobbit. It was Aragorn who finally saved Frodo, chopping off the tentacle that held him and catching the hobbit once again. With that accomplished everyone rushed back into the caves, the slimy tentacles following them. But the monster was too big to enter, and ended up crushing the doors so that the Fellowship found themselves in pitch darkness, the only sound heard was their frantic breaths.
Harry had never felt so ashamed, angry and irritated in a long while. He had rushed forward with the rest and drawn his wand, intending to blast the squid with his best stupefy, when it had started vibrating again. Harry, without noticing, had stepped in between the holly trunks. His magic, it seemed, dried up completely when confronted by the two trees. By the time he'd stepped back into the mines, and aimed his wand, the excitement was over.
Harry shook his head angrily. What was the point of being a wizard when he couldn't use his magic? Was he always going to have problems of this sort? He hoped he would never come across another Middle-Earthian holly tree, or he might be tempted to use Gimli's axe.
"We have now but one choice," said Gandalf grimly, tapping his staff on the ground so that the crystal on the top lit up brilliantly. "We must take the long, road of Moria. Be on your guard! There are older and fouler things than orcs, in the deep places of the world."
"Fouler things? Would that you had listened to me, Gandalf!" cried Boromir. "Now we are trapped, and who is going to lead us out?"
"I will," said Gandalf. "Just follow my staff."
"If only we had more light," said Frodo, staring around at the preceding shadows with doe-eyes.
Harry was about to take out his wand when Gandalf answered, "No Frodo. Too much light will draw attention to us. Now follow me."
The Company trudged after Gandalf with heavy feet and heavy hearts. It was as they walked under an archway and into a huge cavernous room when Harry realised he'd missed something.
"Hedwig!" he exclaimed.
Everyone stopped to stare at him.
"She's gone! She didn't come into the caves with us. She must have flown out when that giant squid attacked us!"
"She is in a better place than us then," said Gandalf. Then he stared curiously at Harry. "You know what that monster is?"
Everyone listened with curious expressions. Harry was momentarily stumped at the attention.
"Yea . . . sort of. We have them in my world, but they're not as nasty. There was a giant squid that lived in the lake beside my school." He thought of Dennis Creevey. "It would rescue people when they fell into the lake . . ." he stopped because everyone was staring at him in complete disbelief. "It's true," he insisted.
"Would that we had met your giant skweed instead of that monster," said Boromir.
"Indeed, that would have made this day less of a hardship," said Gandalf. "Let us be on our way."
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A/N: I know that in middle earth the giant squid is known as The Kraken. But it in the novel, Gandalf and the rest don't know what it is. Tolkien got the idea from the old stories of sailors who'd said they'd been attacked by a giant octopus out on the sea. The sailors named it The Kraken.
At Hogwarts the giant squid is good. In Middle Earth, it is bad. But they are, virtually, the same thing.
2ndA/N: I know that the hobbits wouldn't recognise what the words Leg-less means, since Harry called Legolas that in English. Well, they didn't recognise it. They just heard Harry saying an odd distortion of Legolas' real name, and that's why they laughed.
3rd A/n: The next chapter will slowly trickle away from cannon. With Harry using more magic, more shocking the Fellowship, and finding new things out about middle earth, etc, etc, etc. There is also a really big surprise on the way. Something I don't think anyone has ever done.
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REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW PLEASE! I want more constructive criticism. And I won't mind if you write one or two words either.
