Title: Failsafe (HP/LotR crossover)

Summary: Tackling the last traces of magic Voldemort left scattered around Britain, a magical disaster causes Harry and Ginny to wake up in the dungeons of a ruined fortress. It doesn't take them long to realise that something is very, very wrong…

Pairings: mild, cannon pairings only

Rating: T, for some language and fight scenes

Chapter Eleven

"Ah!"

Ginny didn't see what Gandalf was so cheery about. The warrior he had greeted was looking quite sternly at the old man. That hostile stare quickly travelled from Gandalf to Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn, before becoming stuck on both Harry and her.

He wasn't the only one staring. All the other guards were looking at them too and she felt herself going red. Both she and Harry had fastened their wizard robes as best as they could and Legolas had lent her a brown cloak to try and hide her trousers, there was no denying that both of them looked out of place. Harry still had to wear his glasses, after all, and their white trainers were still poking out from underneath the dark robes.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame," the guard said eventually, moving his gaze away from the embarrassed witch and wizard. Harry exchanged a startled glance with her – was Greyhame Gandalf's surname then? Odd. "By order of Grima Wormtongue," he added. Ginny blinked. Was that sourness she detected in his voice?

"Of course, of course," Gandalf said, still very cheerful, motioning to his companions to comply. None of the three looked particularly happy about it but agreed nonetheless. Ginny found herself blinking at the number of weapons the three suddenly produced. Where were they keeping them all?

"And you, boy?"

Harry jumped. "What about me?" he asked, confused.

The guard looked at him as though he were stupid. "You need to turn over your weapons as well."

"Oh. I don't have any."

The guard no longer looked at Harry as though he were stupid – he now looked at him as though he were insane. "You have no weapons?" he repeated, perplexed.

"Erm, no?"

They didn't believe him. "Search him," the guard ordered, ignoring Harry's protest. It didn't take long as Harry had had the foresight to shove most of his belongings in his mokeskin pouch. They hesitated over his jeans, however, and pulled out his wand uncertainly.

"What is that?" the guard asked, accepting it from the searcher.

"It's a stick," Harry said, grumpily. "Can I have it back now?" The guard hesitated. Harry scowled, although Ginny could sense his tenseness. If the guard decided to be petty and snap it… Her own fingers inched carefully towards her own ward.

Luckily the guard threw it back to him and Harry quickly shoved it back in his pocket.

Turning away from him, the guard held a hand out to Gandalf. "Your staff."

"Hmm?" Gandalf said innocently before glancing at his staff. "Oh. You would not part an old man from his walking stick?" If he had been a dog, Ginny would swear he was using puppy eyes.

The guard hesitated before sighing and gesturing at the company to proceed. Unnoticed by the guard, Gandalf shot them all a quick wink before following the oblivious guard. Harry almost started laughing as he played up to his ruse, leaning on Legolas as they proceeded.

As they filed after, Ginny didn't know whether she felt relieved by the fact that they didn't have to search her or insulted that they didn't even consider her capable of being a threat. She was also trying to decide if that was a good thing or not. In a land full of danger and battles it was probably best if they were overlooked – gave them the element of surprise.

As they made their way further into the Hall the welcome got even colder and darker. Unconsciously she moved closer to Harry, feeling mistrusting eyes staring into the back of her head. She tried to ignore them and look around the room they found them in.

The room seemed to be a throne room, although it was almost as gloomy as the dark faces that stared at them. The room was packed to bursting with various men; some in armour, some not; old and young. There were very few women – if any – and every single face was full of distrust, uncertainty and fear.

And then there was a King.

"Holy Merlin…" Harry breathed under his breath, staring at the old man sitting on the throne. Dumbledore had been well over a hundred and fifty when he died, but this man – Théoden, Ginny reminded himself – actually looked it. The King was all white; white, wispy hair sprouted out of his balding head and from behind his tarnished crown; white was the straggly beard that poked out his face; white was the sunken skin that looked as though it had never seen the sun; white was the film over his eyes.

Ginny started at that. Was the King blind? She swallowed. Whatever she had been expecting of King Théoden this was decidedly not it.

As the party approached a smaller, dark man was crouched next to the King, whispering in his ear. Whereas the King was all white, this shorter man was all black; clothes, greasy hair and manner. His skin was even more sallow than the King's, almost yellow in its paleness. Harry made a muffled snorting sound that he quickly turned into a cough. The others looked askance at him but Ginny caught his eye with a small smirk; the darker man looked as though he was channelling Snape's fashion sense.

'And his sense of humour,' Ginny thought as the man sent them nasty, dark looks. Whatever he was telling the King about them, it was not good.

Gandalf seemed to have noticed that too. "The welcome of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King," he said loudly, walking up to the dais. Behind him Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn all stopped walking. Exchanging glances, Harry and Ginny both stopped too, keeping a little further back.

Next to the King, the dark man whispered something else and the King moved his head slowly. "Why should I… welcome you, Gandalf… Stormcrow?" he wheezed laboriously, looking towards the dark man.

He took that as an invitation to take over. "A just question, my liege," he agreed smarmily before leaping to his feet. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear," he sneered, playing to his audience as he walked towards Gandalf. "Lathspell spell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest."

"Be silent!" Gandalf snapped at him. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" He raised his staff and the man immediately backed away, real fear passing across his face.

"His staff! I told you to take the wizard's staff!" he snarled at the guards who immediately lurched to action, pushing and racing to get towards Gandalf. They never got close; Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli immediately jumped on them, taking them out with their bare fists. Harry started towards them, hand already reaching to his back pocket for his wand, but Ginny grabbed his arm.

"What, Ginny?" he asked, confused.

She just shook her head at him. On the ride over Gandalf had told her that she and Harry should exercise caution in using their magic in front of others. Something about trying to keep them hidden for as long as possible.

Harry searched her face for a second before minutely nodding his head and taking his hand away from his back pocket. His other hand he kept gripped in hers, watching the others taking out the guards one by one.

Of course, not using his magic didn't stop Harry from punching one in the face when he tried to sneak up on Aragorn.

All the while the fighting had been going on, Gandalf was still speaking, slowly approaching the decrepit King. "Théoden, son of Thengel, too long have you sat in the shadows," Gandalf said, voice carrying over the grunts and groans of the fighting. The dark man was crawling away bur Gimli leaped on him, pinning him to the ground. Still Gandalf walked forward. "Hearken to me! I release you from the spell!" And so saying, he raised his hand and bowed his head.

Then Théoden started laughing.

Harry's grip on her hand tensed. That was not the laugh of a sane man and it sent shivers down her spine even as Gandalf looked up, surprised.

"You have no… power here… Gandalf the Grey!"

At that statement, Gandalf threw back his grey cloak, revealing the white robes underneath. Ginny blinked her eyes, dazzled, and there were gasps around the chamber. Théoden lurched back in his throne, almost as though he had been thrown, letting out a cry of pain.

Gandalf's staff was up now, pointing at Théoden. "I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound," he said, almost menacing in his intensity.

There was some commotion behind them but Ginny only had eyes for Gandalf. Next to her she could feel Harry doing the same, watching intently as the magic unfurled around them. It was so different than their own, unfurling like large unseen clouds as Gandalf focussed on the quavering King.

"If I go… Théoden dies," the King hissed, but there was panic in his eyes.

Gandalf simply jabbed his wand in the air and the magic surged with it, forcing Théoden back against his throne. "You did not kill me," he growled. "You will not kill him!"

"Rohan is mine!" the King snarled, lurching forward to seize Gandalf.

"Be GONE!" Gandalf roared, striking him with the staff and all the magic that Ginny had been sensing building in the last few minutes roared along with it, pure brilliant white pouring into every part of the King's body and purging something else… something darker.

Slumping in his throne, the King moaned suddenly. There was another bustle of movement behind them and suddenly a young woman shot past to catch the King, tears running down her face. As they watched, colour began to slowly bleed back into the King's features; pink for his skin, blue for his eyes and gold for his hair. The features firmed up and slowly shrank, revealing a much younger, healthier face. He looked around him, confused, before catching the eyes of the woman at his side and speaking to her, smiling.

All of this Ginny and Harry watched, somewhat awed. Yes, it was magic, something they should be used to, but it was so different from their own. The magicks of the wizarding world were small, quick and direct… it lacked the… the majesty and grandness of what Gandalf what just did. The sheer amount of power, the way it was channelled… all of it was alien and yet so much more poignant than the little things she and Harry could do. It had more meaning.

Harry leant towards her and murmured something. She nodded her head, still somewhat dazed. Harry was right.

There was definitely something they could learn here.

~ Failsafe ~ Failsafe ~ Failsafe ~ Failsafe ~ Failsafe ~ Failsafe ~ Failsafe ~

So sorry for the long delay in posting this chapter (and how short it is!). I have been caught up in the madness of the end of term and also was hectically sewing and painting costumes for LFCC so I haven't had much time for writing lately. I will be posting a second (longer) chapter in the next few days so don't fear – I haven't abandoned this story!

As a side note one of the costumes I wore for LFCC was LotR related – we made barrels and went as the dwarves in the barrels from the 2nd hobbit film! It. Was. Awesome.

Thanks for reading!

Love, Hannanora xxx