Heart of Magic

Author: Sonia

Rating - PG

Category: Adventure, angst and a little romance

Summary – A wizard out of time and a witch feeling out of place unite to find the heart of magic. A Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings crossover.

Disclaimer – All characters involved here are the property of JK Rowling's or JRR Tolkien's. Sadly, I have no claim on any of them and this is being written totally for my amusement. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Other citations will be made where necessary

Author's notes – If Sir Ian McKellen and Dame Maggie Smith hadn't bantered so well together while presenting awards at the 2002 Oscars, this fic might not have happened. It also wouldn't have came into being if Yunadax hadn't dared me to write it.



~*~*~*~



Burning.

Falling.

Intense heat.

The Balrog unleashed its' wrath on Gandalf the Grey. Heat singed the soles of his feet and blisters started to form. The hem of his robes began disintegrating into ash. Gandalf could feel his flesh char, swelling and expanding with even more blisters.

The Fellowship would have to rise above his passing. They must not abandon their quest and remain true to each other. Pain, so much pain caused by one small ring.

Death would be a blessing.

~*~*~*~

Everyone had a place of refuge and comfort. Minerva McGonagall in her Animagus form, had stretched out on a stone bench in the ornamental garden beside the Gryffindor tower. Afternoon sunshine had been so rare of late. There had been a mass of dark clouds and lightning over the Forbidden Forrest and Hagrid had told Dumbledore the unicorns had been restless lately. The last time the unicorns had been so unsettled was when Voldemort was near and had made his first attack on Harry Potter.

Did this mean Voldemort was on the move? Had he found a body to give new life to the evil that has paralysed the wizarding world for so long? Minerva knew Albus had taken extra care to shield Severus Snape, former Death Eater and now counterspy, from any of the Potions Master's former colleagues.

Last week, the clouds had shifted over Hogwarts and remained there until this afternoon. Leaning back on her haunches, the tabby cat stretched and rolled along the bench. A light mist began to fall but soon stopped, leaving Hogwarts' deputy principal to enjoy her afternoon nap.

Minerva's dreams were filled with images of a blue eyed lad with dark curly hair. He didn't look like any Gryffindor she knew. The boy looked like he had suffered some sadness recently. Her heart ached and every maternal instinct Minerva possessed yearned to reach out to the unknown boy. Even though he was with others, the youth seemed to be so totally alone.

Curling into a ball, Minerva's sleep remained haunted by a pair of blue eyes. The eyes reflected a pain that should not be felt by one so young. Her brain eventually dismissed the boy's image, reminding Minerva divination had never been her strong point.

She turned and stretched again, feeling something warm envelope her. It was nice. All cats liked being warm, Minerva thought as she drew herself closer to the source of her latest comfort.

~*~*~*~

Cool mist.

A little sunshine.

A stone bench still warm from the afternoon sun.

Cat fur.

Cat fur? What had the Balrog done to him, Gandalf wondered. Had he passed into shadow or had he been transformed by some dark magic into a common animal?

What an irony. From Gandalf the Grey, unofficial leader of the Fellowship of the Ring, to nothing more than an accursed cat.

~*~*~*~

Feeling a distinctly male hand around her waist, Minerva transformed from her Animagus state and found herself in the arms of an elderly wizard.

"Unhand me this instant and get your dispicable self back to Knockturn Alley!"

Gandalf was dragged back to the here and now by the woman's strident cries. Opening his eyes he found an older but still somewhat attractive witch staring at him. Her eyes dared him to challenge her authority in this strange place.

Where in the Shire was Knockturn Alley? There was no such place in any part of the Shire or Rivendell he could think of.

"If you do not release me now I shall be forced to call the gamekeeper."

This woman really did mean business, Gandalf mused. For that matter, no one in the Shire could afford a gamekeeper, so where was he?

Minerva freed herself from Gandalf's now almost reluctant embrace, stood and began pacing in front of the bench. Her meticulous appearance and the regal pheasant plume in her hat reminded Gandalf of an attention to detail he last saw in female elves.

This was not a time for magic tricks or sleight of hand. Careful words would be the order of the day. His survival might well depend on it, Gandalf thought as he stood to face the woman. Minerva began reaching for her wand, preparing to utter a bodybind spell in her defence.

"Madam, I mean you no harm," Gandalf intoned, reaching out a hand and moving towards a determined Minerva.

"As long as you remember to keep your hands to yourself, I shall allow you to continue." Minerva's grip on her wand tightened.

"I am Gandalf the Grey of Middle Earth. While on a quest I was attacked by a Balrog and separated from my party. Many of my party would now believe I have been lost to them forever. Where am I?"

"You are at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in England and I am Minerva McGonagall, its' deputy principal."

Gandalf's head drooped, his hat landing point first on Hogwarts' neatly trimmed lawns. Golden swirls of fireworks rushed out of the hat, crackling and swooping around Minerva.

Hogwarts' deputy principal then did something unexpected and giggled like a first year student suddenly given an early mark from Severus' potions class.

Regaining her composure, Minerva realised this stranger still needed to be treated with extreme caution – he could be one of Voldemort's Death Eaters or Voldemort himself.