Fourth summary: HP/Lotr crossover, no pairings. Harry in Middle Earth as a master of death and sort of like a tourist. Inspired by Terry Pratchett. Harry is just not as inept as Rincewind.

Ch. 4 Tourist Is As A Tourist Does

It was perfectly understandable, at least that was what Pippin thought. They had left Rivendell ten long days ago. Ten days without decent meals or a good bed. Ten days of walking up the hill and down the hill, over the rocks and across freezing small streams. He was hungry and sure that his stomach had twisted in knots by the lack of right eating schedule. His feet were hurting, his knees were hurting, his back was hurting and their pace just quickened. So, it was no wonder he thought he was just hallucinating when he saw a young man sitting on a rocking chair by the road in the middle of nowhere. There really was no need for Gandalf to complain of why Pippin hadn't said anything to them. Yes, he was in the lead and yes, the others were hunting a boar for dinner. There was no reason at all to give him a whole lecture and a rant about not thinking straight. Hobbit heads needed more meals to work.

But there it was, the young man in the chair by the road, napping. Or at least Pippin hoped he was napping and not – you know – dead. Because whatever had killed the boy, would probably still be around. The boy looked too intact for anything else. Certainly too young to have died of old age.

Gandalf harrumphed while Sam, who was behind Gandalf, pushed Frodo all the way behind him. Pippin thought it overcautious. They had a wizard with them, even though the elf and dwarf were missing. Not that Boromir wasn't good with his sword and Aragorn was certainly no slouch either. It was just that Legolas was an elf and Gimli had wickedly sharp axe. But Sam had always been like that. Pippin had always thought the old Bilbo Baggins was fast to spank the other kids, and never his own nephew. Sam had certainly gotten his share for dragging Frodo along and obviously it had gone overboard. Sam was now like a mother hen. Brainwashed by the sneaky old Bilbo.

Pippin looked at Gandalf. "Should we... erm... do something?"

Gandalf just stroked his really long beard and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Well, we can't dally here all day, can't we!" Pippin muttered. "I mean it is a bit queer for him to drag his chair all the way out here. Old grams Longtoe had his chair outside but it was just outside the door and on the bricks. There's no house near by here. But it's still just a chair. Anyone might want to carry something like that with them. I mean I would like a chair now and then."

Pippin glanced at Gandalf again, if a ring wasn't just a ring then maybe a chair wasn't just a chair. What would he know.

Gandalf coughed but then started walking onwards. "I guess you are right little hobbit, this time. A chair is just a chair. I was more worried of the person sitting on it, but we can not dally all day."

When they got close enough, it was clear the young man was just asleep. Pippin wanted to wake him for surely the position he was in would cause a crick in the neck.

"He's just sleeping," Sam stated the obvious. "How can he be sleeping?"

"Rocking chair is much better to sleep in than an armchair," Pippin told his opinion. After all the rocking made one sleepy and it tilted nicely once you really wanted to close your eyes.

"I didn' mean that!" Sam raised his voice which woke the young man in the chair. Pippin wasn't sure how old the young man or boy was. He really hadn't been around men enough. He was pretty sure this was more of a boy than a man.

The boy blinked his eyes several times and then yawned. To Pippin he didn't look that threatening. Even though his garments were a bit odd. Very deep black cloak and funny shoes.

"Good morning young man," Gandalf greeted. Sam wasn't going to say anything and Frodo was still behind them all. Pippin felt a bit awkward but to be polite he also said, "morning."

"Mo-o-rning," the young man answered back and stretched. "This is a really slow road. I thought no one would come by."

"Yes. The traditional Greenway to south is a bit further towards the coast," Gandalf leaned on his staff. "But even that is rarely travelled these days. You were lucky we were on our way here."

The man stood up, his head way above the hobbits but clearly shorter than the Grey Wizard. "Where are you on your way, if I might ask?"

"Myself and my companions are heading south towards Rohan," Gandalf told in a roundabout way of his. "And where is your road taking you?"

-ooooo-

Short, I know. I think I was wanting a Harry who would not really want to go with the fellowship but they would continue to cross roads. After all, Harry is just a tourist here. Just sightseeing. He has already dealt with his Dark Lord. And if the white forests of Lorien and the dark mountains in the south happen to be on his tourist pamphlet... Master of Death can certainly deal with some orcs and nosy elves. And Pippin will never quite manage to see the pamphlet, although the name of the company producing it seems to change in the back cover each time he manages a sneak peek.