Yay! Another week! Also, I'm not too sure if I'm going to be uploading for a while, I might, you never know. I just got a new job (hopefully, background check has to go through, though I've never done anything bad other than a speeding ticket when I was still in high school) so I'm not sure how the scheduling thing is going to work out. Also, I'm selling a few pictures in a small little shop and to actually get the space, I need to volunteer at the shop...so I'm working at two places...sort of...so I may not be able to upload till I get in the groove of things.

Wish me luck!

I don't own Harry Potter.


The Black ships came closer to the shore, and the Corsair Captain stood beside the helm, scanning the horizon with a disdainful sneer. It wouldn't much longer till they could take their place in the army of Sauron, and bring about the fall of Minas Tirith and it's pitiful people. They had been promised rich rewards if they would come and help in the plunder the White city, and with the treasures that were sure to be in there, it was the most tempting of offers.

They passed the forbidding White mountains, and as they did, he could hear his men whispering fearfully. The corsair sailors were not weak men, or men with superstitious tendencies, but even the hardest of sailor knew to fear the White mountains and their haunted population. Tales had been told of a few ships that foolishly drifted too close to the shores were boarded by spectral figures, warriors of old, and the ship and it's foolhardy crew were ripped apart, killing them and in turn joining the specters, meanwhile the ship was reduced to nothing but splinters littering the riverbed. All feared the White Mountains, except for the Captain.

"What are you vermin whispering about?" shouted the Captain harshly.

"Don't you know what that is, captain? It's the haunted mountain, they say an army of dead soldiers lay there." said the helmsman quietly, he then gave a bone deep shudder. "You couldn't force me up that wretched mountainside, not for all the gold in all the world."

"Well, then it's a good thing we're not, you sniveling dogs." sneered the Captain nastily. "We're heading for Osgiliath, now if you little maidens can get us there...!"

Despite the fear that his men obviously showed to the White Mountain, he feared the wrath of the Dark Lord Sauron, which they would most assuredly receive if they didn't make it to Osgiliath at the right moment. He had heard rumors of what happened to those who didn't rise to Sauron's expectations, and that made him shudder. Old tales of an old mountain-born race of men paled in comparison.

Suddenly, a shriek came upon the wind and the men stopped in their tracks on the deck, they turned their fear ridden eyes towards the shore and saw a great tidal wave of greenish fog coming down out of the mountainside. At first it seemed to be some oddly colored mist, but this was no harmless fog...they could see frightening phantasms weilding swords, shields, spears and bows and arrows, poised and ready to do some carnage. Their faces twisted, skin with small holes where green quivering maggots dug themselves deeper into the flesh, skulls with eyes burning bright within their sockets.

"They're coming!" yelled the first mate frantically.

"We're lost!" shouted the Helmsman as he left the helm and jumped off the side of the ship and into the river.

"You cowards! They're nothing but spirits!" shouted the Captain drawing his sword.

But that didn't stop the rest of the crew from leaping off the sides of the ship to escape the dead spirits coming down the mountain to wreak their vengeance on them, but as they did so, the ghouls would hover over the water, keeping the Corsairs under, taunting them and stabbing them with their spectral weapons, and it was there that they slowly drowned.

"You won't take me!" shouted the Captain. He turned and saw two men with long brown hair come at him with swords drawn and rushing towards him. The blades of a glimmering, virgin sword and an ancient looking sword was the the last thing he had ever seen.


Legolas and Gimli were beside the helm and helping the rest of the sailors off the ship with both their axe and bow. Soon, there was apparently no one left on the ship, the Corsairs were defeated.

"Well, that was easy." said Sirius as he wiped the blood off his sword. "Though...I'm not too overly fond of killing someone...never did that before...not...hands on...anyway."

"First time is always the hardest." said Legolas softly.

"Let's hope there's no one down below decks." said Gimli as he turned to the door leading below.

"Oi!" shouted a few crewmen coming up from down below. They drew their weapons and charged up the stairs. Sirius was standing beside the open cabin and slammed the hilt of his sword into the first one's face and as he staggered back, the rest of them did as well. Sirius moved aside so Legolas could take out the others with his bow.

Once they were down, Sirius looked amongst the three of them, and he smiled. "Man, that was...kind of fun. Little sadistic of me saying that, but it was quite...invigorating."

Aragron looked over to the otherworldly man with a shocked look.

"Where were you two hours ago?" asked Gimli. He failed to mention that even he himself was a little hesitant to strike at thin air whilst in the mountains.

Sirius looked at the dwarf in shock, "Those were ghosts, these were just normal guys."

Legolas rolled his eyes.

"So, you're ready to fight now?" said Aragorn as he lept to the helm to steer the ship away from the shore where it was drifting. The ghosts took control of the ships behind them as they sailed almost silently through the water.

"Maybe, guess I should practice a bit..." said Sirius.

"A bit?" said Aragorn with a smirk.

"Yeah...alright..a lot." retorted Sirius.


Voldemort struggled as he tried to make it down the road, leaning heavily on a stout stick. He had lost almost everything, he had lost his horse, the staff he had been given, and his money. He only had the whatever was left of the clothes on his back, his sword, a few of the weapons he had gathered and the stone.

The little wench had stolen his horse, and he swore that when he caught up with her, she was no longer going to be bait, she was dead. He wasn't going to stop till he had impaled her with all the weapons he had floating behind him.

He had no ally now, all he had was himself and the stone. There was no one to help him. But all in all it made things so much simpler.

Everyone was now a target.


Anya galloped as hard and as fast as she could to Minas Tirith, she had to take a long detour when saw a vision of the large army standing beneath the white walls of the city. The last vision she had saved her life from certain death, she had no choice but to heed the warning that was now before her. She circled around for many miles around the field of Pelennor to avoid the vast army to try and enter the White City on the sly. That was not a likely event, the army was still laying siege to the great city of Gondor.

She tried making her way far south when she heard a galloping coming up behind her.

"Halt!" said a pair of horsemen riding up beside her. They took her reigns and steered her away from her course. They were scouts, and when they saw a single woman riding nervously towards the mountains, they rode furiously to catch her. While they did not know if she was friend, foe, or even some innocent traveler they could not let her go any further in the direction she was heading. If she had continued on she would have been riding to her doom, if she would take the wrong turn at almost any moment to her left she would have been shot down out of the saddle. They had so far slain fifteen orc archers hidden on the mountain side and prepared to take the life and provisions of any passing traveler. And if it was too big of target for them, they would have fired messages to the other scouts hidden on the mountain to send to the army of Sauron.

As they neared her and led her back to the camp where King Theoden was, they didn't believe that she was an agent of the enemy, she was too...young and pretty...despite what she looked like at the moment. Her hair was disheveled, her face marred with dirt and bruises, and her dress was filthy and torn. The poor fair thing needed help, and they were just the gentlemen for the job.

She looked fearfully between the two of them, thinking they were the enemy. She tried vainly to get away, but the riders seem to think that she was just unused to the saddle and tried to keep her firmly in place, all the while, watching where they put their hands on her. She was about to yank on the reins to get the horse to stop, when she saw the crest on their armor. She remembered travelers wearing the same crest once in Bree...a white horse...they were from Rohan. She almost laughed and cried from relief, she was safe, they weren't going to hurt her...right? Rohan, from what she heard was a kingdom of good people...hopefully that wasn't a lie.

They took her to their camp, many, many miles away from the White City, where the riders of Rohan and the King were waiting for the finalization of their plans were made and then they would ride off. They took the girl directly to the King's tent and spoke gently to her, they handled her carefully, as she already looked ready to faint.

"We're taking you to the King, he should know what we can do for you." said one of the younger guards. "Perhaps we can see about sending you back to Edoras, or Helm's Deep."

"Lord Theoden." said the one scout loudly causing Anya to flinch horribly.

The king stepped out with his nephew and niece at his side. "What have you to report? Who is this?" said the King looking at the young woman with shocked eyes. Eomer's eyes widened as well, and his lips twitched slightly.

"Anya!" came a small voice.

Anya turned and saw one of the hobbits that Harry left with...did that mean that Harry was here?

"Master Hobbit! Oh thank heavens, it's a relief to see someone familiar after all this time!" said Anya with a tearful laugh, her knees felt about ready to give out at any moment.

"This is Anya!" said Merry excitedly.

"Who is she?" asked the King with a faint smile.

"She was a barmaid at Bree...she and Harry..." but Anya began to blush so heavily that Merry stopped. But Anya took his break in speech to speak herself, despite the heat in her face, the moment he mentioned Harry, it drove her mind on to speak, and her legs be damned.

"Is he here? I have something important to tell him!" said Anya imploringly to Merry.

"He left for Minas Tirith a long time ago." said Merry worriedly. "Is something wrong?"

"There is a man after him, a terrible...awful man...he said he knew Harry, but he wants to kill him!" said Anya worriedly. "He's so powerful, he has the ability to have weapons turn on their owners, he'll cut Harry to ribbons! We must save him!"

The others raised their brows at the description that Anya gave them, Sirius was out to kill Harry? But he said that he was Harry's godfather, and Harry always spoke highly of Sirius...the man had lied.

They let Aragorn lead him right to the lad.


The two mysterious men sat in Dumbledore's office, tears falling down their faces.

"So...James and Lily are gone?" said Rudolph thickly.

"I'm afraid so." said Dumbledore somberly. "I tried to have you contacted, but..." he added a weak smile. "you were always known for not sticking around when abroad."

"I can't believe it, I just can't believe it." said Leroy.

"What about the baby, what about Harry?" asked Rudolph weakly.

"Tell me we didn't lose our Little Monster." said Leroy tears preparing for a second run down his face.

"He's alive...but...not well at the moment." said Dumbledore.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Leroy quickly.

"I'm...I cannot begin to put it into words." said Dumbledore. "But I can have Minerva take you to him."

"Why can't you take us?" asked Rudolph. "You don't need to worry about those Death Eaters..."

"There may be more behind them." said Dumbledore shaking his head. "I'll have to stay, and protect the school."

Rudolph and Leroy looked between each other, and nodded. "Alright, we'll go with Minerva."

"One thing," said Dumbledore.

"Yes..." said Rudolph.

"Do not use magic in the room." said Dumbledore.


"What's the Jade stone do?" asked Harry.

"It controls metal, weapons for example. He could turn your own weapons against you." said King Meandenbor. "So, everyone in Middle Earth is in danger."

"We gotta stop him!" said Harry quickly.

"And we will, but like I said, you'll want to collect all the other stones, in order to defeat him." said King Meanenbor. "If he manages to get back to our world..."

"Then we're doomed." said Harry, his mouth opened and his eyes widened in fear.

"If you can wield the rest of the stones, then you will be able to hopefully defeat Voldemort." said the King

"Hang on, I thought you said that I need all of the stones to get home, and to be willing to claim the throne..." said Harry.

"I did, but what I didn't say, was that if this Voldemort, (being a wizard he can see the stones), if he were to collect all of the stones...he could usurp my throne." said King Meandenbor.

"What?" said Harry. "I don't understand..."

"Lad, these stones work in both worlds, and these stones override any magical law known to wizard kind." said King Meandenbor. "But enough talk," he looked off into the distance. "We'll go and get the ruby, the pearl is safe for the moment."

"Is there a way to get the jade stone? Even with Voldemort there?" asked Harry.

"Not without the pearl...and to use the stone, you need to be solid." said King Meandenbor.

"But he wouldn't be able to see me, how could he stop me." replied Harry.

"He never lets go of that stone, and with as dark as his mind is, I can understand why." said the King. "Now, come."

Harry and the King drifted as quickly as they could across rocky landscape, all the while Harry's mind was racing with the facts that he learned:

The King was not willing to be completely open with him. Though he could understand...sort of...

it had been so long since the king had talked to anyone, and he had been murdered. So trusting anyone is flung out the window.

He learned the limitations of most of the stones, that would help him when he would gather up the rest.

Someone was now in this world to help him, not that the King was willing to tell him who it was.

Voldemort was also in Middle Earth, and was in possession of the jade stone.

And if Harry didn't collect the stones, Voldemort might and that would prove to bring about the end of the world.

If he thought the task of finding the stones was hard...it was now even harder.

It took a long time for the two of them to reach where the King said the stones were. They were in a foul smelling marsh, with tongues of flames hovering over different pools of water. There were dead bodies of men and elves and even orcs floating in the water, but not quite breaking the surface.

"What the hell is this place?" asked Harry.

"This was where the Last Alliance took it's final stance, and here are where the fallen lay in eternal unrest." said the King somberly. "See those flames..." he said pointing down at a nearby tongue of flame.

"Yes." said Harry, his eyes unable to tear from the nearest floating elf.

"That comes from the ruby...that particular stone wields fire, once we remove the ruby, perhaps the spirits here may finally rest." said the King.

"So how am I to get it?" asked Harry finally looking away from the elf. "Where is it."

"Underneath." said the King pointing to the heart of the marsh.

"So...how am I supposed to get it?" asked Harry deadpanned. He couldn't help but keep thinking back down to the elf lying in the water.

The King looked at Harry in surprise and then looked at him up and down. "You're a ghost lad..."

"Oh...right." said Harry sheepishly. He then slid down through the ground, but then came up right away.

"I don't wanna." said Harry, his eyes almost popping out of his head.

"Why not?" asked King Meandenbor quirking an eyebrow.

"I see dead people." said Harry.

The King rolled his eyes.