Hello, my peeps! Sorry this is a day late!

As always, this story is written in honor of Andy the willow tree, who is FANTABULOUS!

Hope you all enjoooooooOOOOY!

...

Gimli couldn't help but grin as he spotted the familiar head of rusty red hair. Boromir was talking with his father, a restrained expression on his face, already dressed in Hogwarts robes and gripping the wrist of a smaller kid that could only be his younger brother. In all honesty, Gimli had heard so much about Faramir that he almost felt as if he knew the boy, when in reality they had never met.

"Boromir!"

His fellow Gryffindor turned around, a mix of surprise and confusion painting his face, but upon catching sight of Gimli the expression melted away into a brilliant smile.

His father said something, drowned out by the chaos of that was the Hogwarts Express train station, but judging by the man's pinched expression it was probably reprimand. Boromir gave Gimli a sheepish smile before turning his attention back to the conversation; reunions and introductions would have to wait.

Unable to talk with Boromir, Gimli wandered back to his own little troupe. His cousins, Kili and Fili, were grudgingly standing still as their mother, Dis, fussed over them. The woman, for all her motherliness and cheerfulness, was absolutely downright terrifying when she wanted to be, and no one knew that better than her two sons.

A little ways away was Gimli's own mother, along with his father, Gloin. They had promised to guard his trunk while Gimli had wondered off to try and locate his friends.

Scattered amidst them were the various teachers that would be apparating to Hogsmeade so that they could get to the school in the next few minutes or so. Balin- who taught History- was chatting amiably with his brother Dwalin, who taught Potions, and judging by the loud booming voice echoing throughout the station, Dain Ironfoot was most likely somewhere nearby as well. It was an odd tradition in Gimli's family; the teachers left for Hogwarts at the station as well, not just the students.

When Gimli had asked, they had said it was for sentimental reasons

And in the front of the group, talking lowly with the curly haired herbology professor- Mr Boggins, was it? No, Mr. Baggins…- was Thorin Oakenshield, esteemed hero of the Great War.

Thorin rarely made his way out into public- reporters were hidden everywhere- and Gimli wondered what had convinced him to join their little gathering at the train station. He also wondered why Thorin was speaking with the herbology teacher- whose personality was, as far as Gimli could tell, as far away from Thorin's as humanly possible- of all people, but he didn't ask.

His uncle was one of those glaring, scary people that was incredibly private and incredibly difficult to approach.

He and Gimli were never close, but the elder wizard was still family. They were all family.

And so, when Gimli's entire family straightened and tensed as one, Gimli was understandably confused and more than a little worried. And perhaps filled with the righteous protection anger that would fill any twelve year old upon sensing a threat to his loved ones...

He was also understandably confused when, upon following the angry gazes, the presumed threat turned out to be a certain annoying young blonde that Gimli knew.

Legolas was talking with an older man- presumably his father, based on their incredibly similar looks- good naturally rolling his eyes at the elder as he pushed his trolley filled with his luggage along. It was then that the tall blonde man caught sight of their group and came to a stop, eyebrow arching coolly.

Gimli instantly hated him.

Legolas appeared confused at the sudden interruption, giving his father a questioning look as he stepped out from behind his trolley, but upon following the man's gaze he spotted Gimli.

The redhead was rather surprised when Legolas gave him a small smile along with a wave; they weren't really friends.

Still, it was a better greeting than Gimli expected, so he couldn't complain.

It didn't stop his confusion on why his family was so vehemently staring at the blonde's father, or why the blonde's father was returning the gaze with such fierceness.

"Thorin Okensheild… A pleasure."

His uncle's face was darkened into a stormy state of displeasure, and Gimli hesitantly inched around him to stand by his parents.

"Thranduil."

Gimli blinked.

Well, that explained it.

Thranduil, who was the reason his family had lost everything in the war. Thranduil, who had caused so much strife for his uncles. Thranduil, who had locked his beloved family up in his dungeons. Thranduil, who had been a servant to the Dark Lord.

Thranduil, who was Legolas' dad.

An instant wave of fury washed over him, and he found himself glaring at the elder man just as angrily as the rest. When Legolas gave him a slightly confused look, Gimli didn't even bother changing his expression.

Legolas Greenleaf was a lie. He was a traitor, just like his traitor dad. He gave himself a different last name and pranced into the school as if he had any right to be there. This guy's father had probably killed some of the student's relatives. Legolas might have been working for the Dark Lord the entire time, telling him all their secrets and all about the information they had discovered.

And Legolas was probably just as bad as his dad.

His family had suffered so, so much from the wretched man before him, and Gimli had spent the majority of his last year hanging out with his son, not even knowing their relation.

He felt anger and horror and maybe possibly a little bit betrayed, but most of all he felt anger. Legolas was looking more and more confused, but that was probably just another ploy. Just another thing to make him seem un-monster like.

The conversation between Thorin and Thranduil was getting more and more intense, his uncle's faces getting stormier and stormier with every passing second even as both of their voices rose to higher and higher levels.

They were starting to attract stares.

Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, the herbology professor appeared besides Thorin. The curly haired brunette placed a hand- calloused from years and years of gardening- on the taller wizard's shoulder. Gimli almost felt sorry for the guy- Thorin does not like to be touched- but he felt his jaw dropping soon after when, upon receiving the death glare of doom, the herbology professor simply raised an eyebrow.*

It dropped even farther when Thorin, instead of responding with anger or violence, seemed to slump into himself, all righteous frustration and ill will seemingly leaving him. Obviously, the herbology professor knew the war hero far better than Gimli had thought.

Thorin let out a grunt and then turned his back on Thranduil, wishing the tall blonde the curtest and most obviously halted, "Good day," in history.

Thranduil murmured something to his son and was then gone with a swish of his robes, disappearing into the crowd.

Looking terribly confused, Legolas shot Gimli one last questioning look before grabbing the trolley and hurrying after him.

In the bustling halls of the station, a piercing whistle blew.

It was time to board the train.

Gimli had been intending to go and sit with his cousins. He had been intending to sulk and grit and maybe even rant for a while before he went anywhere near Legolas again. But then Boromir was at his side and laughing and patting him heartily on the back, saying he was happy to see him again and corralling Gimli down the narrow corridors to the compartment where they were all sitting so that he could meet Faramir.

He let himself get swept up in the greetings and the excited chatter, and before he knew it he was sitting in the same compartment as Boromir and Aragorn and all the rest, which wouldn't have been a problem if Legolas was not included in that 'all the rest'.

As it was, the blonde was there, and Gimli felt his anger start to boil inside of him.

Traitor. Liar. Murderer.

(There was a small part of his mind that told Gimli that it was very likely that the blonde did, in fact, have no such record on him. But his heart was too angry and hurt to put rational thought on such a thing, and so that small part was ignored.)

Gimli wasn't sure what exactly happened.

They had been talking, chatting about how their summer's had gone and what they had been doing. And the whole time Gimli's anger just grew and grew inside of him, the mental image of people and family whom he had never met, and whom he would never get a chance to meet, being burned to the ground in front of him as Thranduil walked away without even bothering to help, scorching his mind again and again and again.

And Legolas had started talking, saying something that started out with, "My father and I went-"

Gimli never let him finish his sentence.

"To go and ruin some people's lives, I suppose. Maybe go and give secret messages to the Dark Lord about our every activity? Go kill people?"

Legolas, who had had his hands in the air in some dramatic gesture or another, slowly lowered them.

"Excuse me?"

Instead of making him feel shame or making him rethink his actions, the words just made him angrier.

"Yeah. That's right. I know your secret now. When were you going to tell us!?"

Aragorn looked rather confused, cautiously looking between Legolas and Gimli while Boromir and Faramir watched with wide eyes besides him.

"Tell us what, Gimli?"

Gimli looked at Aragorn and then back at Legolas, pointing an accusing finger straight at the blonde.

"That his father's a bloody SERVANT OF THE DARK LORD!! THAT'S WHAT!"

Silence.

Dead silence.

Legolas was staring wide eyed at Gimli, mouth slightly open in shock and hands now lying utterly expressionless on his lap. It was almost odd to see the blonde so still, but Gimli's frustration didn't let him take the chance to care.

Then, slowly, the blonde sat up straighter in his seat. His glare was made of pure ice, and his hands began to curl into fists.

"My father… was not a servant of the Dark Lord."

Gimli huffed.

"Don't even try to trick us anymore. Everyone who has half a mind knows that Thranduil Oropherion was a deceitful wizard who worked for the Dark Lord. Everyone."

Legolas' eyes narrowed even further, and the blonde leaned forwards so that his words could be more clearly heard, even though their cabin was filled only with complete silence.

"And anyone with an actual brain would know that he was a spy within the Dark Lord's ranks, who was truly working for Gandalf the Grey the entire time and provided crucial information for the war effort."

Gimli's eyes narrowed as well, and before he even realized what he was doing he was standing up, glaring down at the blonde as if he was the dirtiest piece of scum he had ever seen.

"Your dad is a bloody traitor and a bloody coward. He killed for the Dark Lord. He lied for the Dark Lord. He was the Dark Lord's right hand man. That sounds quite a bit like being a servant to the Dark Lord to me!"

Legolas was on his feet now, too, glaring full out. The others in the small compartment were staring at the scene with wide, wide eyes and in shocked silence.

"My Ada," the blonde hissed, "saved hundreds of lives. Hundreds of them."

Gimli growled. How dare Legolas say such a thing. How dare he? Thranduil obviously didn't lift a single finger to save anyone of the city of Erebor.

"Your father is nothing more than a murderer. My entire home," and Gimli hated how his voice cracked, "was destroyed because of his betrayal. He's a liar and a murderer and the worst sort of coward. You say he saved hundreds? Think he's a hero? How come he didn't save Erebor, huh? Why didn't he save any of them."

Legolas opened his mouth, but Gimli wasn't done.

"And you're just the same. You're a liar and a coward and a traitor and- And why on earth did you even come to Hogwarts, eh!? Trying to trick us all by changing your last name… bloody coward. Were you planning on burning Hogwarts to the ground, too!?"

As Gimli spoke, his words grew louder and louder, angrier and angrier. And as he spoke, Legolas shrunk further and further into himself.

This time, it was Legolas' turn to have his voice crack.

"My father- My Ada did the best that he could. And I came to Hogwarts because I wanted to spend time away from the man who mourns the death of every single person he couldn't save every single day of his miserable life. Because I thought I might be able to make friends."

The blonde grabbed Arod's cage- ignoring how the owl hooted softly in surprise at the sudden movement- and stormed to the compartment door, which he swung open with a brilliant slam.

He paused in it's frame, though. Not turning around, but simply standing there, still.

"And Gimli?"

His voice was suspiciously shaky.

"Don't talk to me about the loss of Erebor as if you has lived there. You weren't even born when that happened."

And then he walked away, free hand coming up to wipe at his eyes as he left.

There was silence in the compartment, heavy and thick, and Gimli tried to pretend that it was natural. Tried to pretend as if his stomach weren't trying to eat him from the inside out.

His whole life, Gimli had heard stories. Stories of the terrible Thranduil and the terrible crimes against all of humanity. His whole life, he had been told of a grand city of stone and gold, and the wonderful lives its people had led. His whole life, Gimli had been imagining pictures of hundreds and hundreds of faces… burned to ashes.

His whole life, Gimli had felt the incredible pressure of burning grief. It was a large weight to hold...

(He ignored the small voice in his head that said it was the grief that he had just taken out on Legolas. Ignored the voice that whispered that Legolas hadn't even been alive when Erebor burned, too. Ignored the quiet mental replay of the blonde's hurt eyes, suspiciously wet, flashing with their own grief over and over again.)

Aragorn slowly stood up and came to sit down next to the red head.

"You know, Gimli, I got to hang out with Legolas this summer…."

His reply was gruff and short; he didn't feel much like talking.

"So what?"

"You know what he said? He said that he was going to try really hard this year. That he was tired of getting in petty arguments for no reason. That he wanted to be friends with you."

Gimli didn't answer.

"Did you know that I was the heir of Isildur? Does that make me responsible for all his crimes in your mind, too?"

Again, no response.

Aragorn sighed, slwowly standing up and heading to the compartment door. He paused briefly, though, to look back upon the stubborn redhead in the corner seat.

"Just… think about it, yeah?"

Gimli turned and looked out the window.

Behind the pair, Faramir traded a confused and worried glance with his older brother, but Boromir simply sighed and shrugged; he didn't really know what just happened either.

What he did know, however, was that their second year of Hogwarts was not off to the best of starts.

...

Sooooo? Tell me what you think! Ima very curious about your thoughts on the work.

Notes:

*You know, I have this huge backstory planned out for this world's version of The Hobbit, and at some point or another I am going to have to type it all up. Probably AFTER I finish this huge massive project. :) Anyways... here's just a hint of what might have happened!

** Okay, I didn't find a specific point for this but here it is; NO SHAMING ON GIMLI, YEAH!? He has an entire lifetime of hearing and cultivating hate against the Oropherion family, and he's just learned the guy he had been hanging out with and was his sort of friend/ally thing was a part of it. The negative emotions are not going to just all go away in the span of a few minutes.

Huge THANK YOU to Guebwiller for favoriting and favoriting this story, and GINORMOUS HUGS for Andy the willow tree and WriterGirl7673,who were my lovely reviewers from the last chapter!

So yes; I hope you all enjoyed! There shall definitely be more on the Hobbits next chapter, so you can all look forward to that!