A/N: I've been so buried in Buffy (Wahhh! Buffy died! Sorry, finally saw the end of season five) and my alter egos (KYRIEL! ARGH!) and just about everything that's NOT LotR or HP that I've been very out-of-touch with this fic. I can't say that I'll be updating very consistently for any extended period of time. Chapters will be written sporadically, when I have the time or inclination to get back on the horse. (I fell off. As is obvious. *wince*) If you must flame someone, please flame my alter egos. Especially Kyriel.

If at any point you have the overwhelming urge to throttle me for leaving you hanging, may I just remind you that I'm currently writing one full-fledged, novel-sized fic (this story, LOF); one smaller (but still many-chaptered) story, a Remus romance; AND Kyriel's Blood Magic Saga. The latter consists of... oh, let's see... 12 NOVELS. (Do you finally understand why I want to strangle Kyriel?) This does not include the little stories I write on the side -- Buffy vignettes, Farscape epilogues, snippets of the beginnings of other crossovers, and so on, and so on... *rolls eyes* The life of a writer. Shoot me. Please.

Oh, and Emily -- PICK UP THAT FREAKIN' BOOK, GIRL! I'm telling you that LotR is the best book in the WORLD, so get back on it! :) Love ya. And crackers don't matter.

This chapter is the first day in Middle-earth, all encompassed in a single extended segment -- the longest chapter yet, to compensate for lost time, I suppose. Enjoy.

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Chapter Nine: I Am a Traveler of Both Time and Space
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Oh let the sun beat down upon my face,
Stars to fill my dreams
I am a traveler of both time and space;
To be where I have been...
-From Kashmir' by Led Zeppelin
––––––––––

Oh, they probably just went off to look for something to eat, Hermione Granger thought muzzily, lying on her back on the ground in an unknown but extremely pleasant forest. She was barely awake, and her brain was not quite functioning properly yet.

They'll come back soon, she murmured to herself, and tried to roll over, landing on a small patch of wild mushrooms in the process.

What I'd like to know, said a loud, angry voice by her ear, is if this is the afterlife, how come you get a body and I don't.

Hermione sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake.

Who's that? she yelled, looking from side to side frantically.

You might know me from killing me, you bi--

I don't think we're dead, Eloise, said a second, groggy voice.

I know she killed me, she fired this blast at my back with the ring on, there's no--

I don't know what's happening, but I swear you're all getting expelled the second I can find Dumbledore --

Malfoy, keep quiet, this is a matter to be kept between Granger and myself --

Slowly, slowly, Hermione was coming to grips with the situation. Of course, the spell... how could she be so stupid?

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Only witches and wizards could use Hermione's bridge-spell, and why this is depends on several deeply technical aspects of the magic's construction. There were three sorts of things that could be affected in highly different ways by a spell: inanimate things, including rocks, machinery, and for that matter, clothes and traveling gear; organic, living things -- all varieties of plants, animals, fungi, bacteria, and everything of that sort; and magical things, like other spells, or, as Hermione had deduced, a magically influenced human, other animal, or plant. Unicorns, chimaeras, Devil's Snare and Bubotubers, witches, wizards, werewolves and all, were all magical things that were not affected by spells in the same way as other things.

Some spells, of course, were so all-encompassing that the differences between their effects on these various entities was barely noticeable: like Memory Charms or Stunning spells. But Hermione's bridge was a new brand of magic entirely, and very exclusive of the things it brought with it.

Organic material could not survive the journey through that chasm that Hermione called a bridge. The void Hermione had mentioned so often to Ron and Harry was quite literal. There was no air, no oxygen; in fact there was nothing at all, not even dark matter or whatever it was Muggles called it. Nothing living could traverse that and come out the other end quite as whole as it had been before it went in.

As for inanimate objects... certain amounts of mass could be specified, but it required a bit more multitasking of the brain than Hermione was quite capable of yet. Most of the spell was created in one's own head, before it crossed the barrier into a twisted reality and drew you inside for a very, very long journey. During the composition of the spell for this, the first, time, Hermione had been a bit hesitant and withdrawn; afraid, as it were, of the very concept of what it was she was doing. But she had concreted the ideas of her four bags into the foundation of the spell, so at least those would be there; and indeed, they were lying right next to her, in a patch of moss. Her clothes, all the contents of her pockets and so forth, were still on her; she had had at least the presence of mind to insert those into the spell. Dobby would still be wearing his sweater and soccer shorts, if she could see him, and Eloise her robes. It was the other people she'd dragged along that she was worried about. In those last few moments she had tried to recall the details of what they had been wearing and carrying, and slip those in before everything went to hell in a handbasket, but as far as she knew, when Snape or Malfoy conjured themselves into sight, they had a high likelihood of being stark naked. The mere thought made her want to gag.

Magic, now... magic was another thing entirely. Her spell was built around the idea of using her own fundamental, living magic, the magic of her soul, to piece together a bridge in front of herself; like putting a block down in front of her, stepping onto it, putting down another, and moving to it, then picking up the first block and moving it in front, and so on, only much more flowing and less time-consuming. Since she could not bring her organic body with her, she had designed a circle of protection to drive out darkness and age, so that when her magical essence had left it to die, it would be perfectly preserved. Since Dumbledore and the rest of the staff knew what her spell entailed, she was certain that they would have the sense not to move hers or anyone else's body out of her circle of wands.

But in the meantime, her consciousness and soul, all her magic, was moving along in a wave of itself. But what to do on the other end? Upon emerging into a new world, she would have no solid body; she would only be a flickering shadow of power, with a mind. She could create a voice; she could do spells; she could form her invisible self into a human shape if she wanted to -- but that was the dilemma, you were still invisible, still insubstantial. There were two options to solve the problem. First, take over a living body, strangle its soul, binding yourself in its place. This was inconceivable to Hermione, and not in a thousand eternities would she attempt it.

Second option...?

Form the magic of yourself into a solid body. You would have complete control over the form you took until you concreted it. Hermione had chosen her own, normal self, with no major improvements except perhaps to make her hair a bit less frizzy and straighten her teeth, which, though shortened, were still a tad crooked. The enormous downside of the apparently idealistic option, however, was that once you molded your essence into your shell, there was nothing for that shell to house. In other words, her soul was in her skin and organs, nerves and veins, even her fingernails and hair; but there was no magic, no self, in her metaphorical, metaphysical heart. That heart was not even there any longer.

She was, by very twisted terms, something of a cross between a Muggle and a saint. Her skin glowed very faintly with the enchanted spirit from which it was formed, but she could do no magic.

Upon lifting the last metaphorical block from behind herself on the way down the bridge, Hermione had stacked all the pieces' together and used them to create this body, concreting it almost immediately. She'd overestimated herself somewhat, however, and the expenditure of so much mind- and willpower had left her unconscious. During the several hours she'd been comfortably asleep in the cushy overlapping mixture of moss and pine needles, six unformed spirits had been left to their own devising.

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Even being nothing more than bits of free-floating magic with disembodied voices had not discouraged the souls of Hermione's six unwanted companions from remaining in the same states as their physical bodies had been. It's difficult to adjust to the fact that you don't have to obey the laws of medical science anymore, and the spirits of both Eloise and Sirius had not moved or spoken for a long time, since they believed they ought to be unconscious. Dobby and Lupin, who had been magical phenomenons even in their solid bodies, within the bounds of their own universe, were even more of a couple of wonders now they had nothing binding them down. Dobby, if he were visible at that time, would have been so as a huge cloud of greenish, sparkling, slightly greasy-feeling fog. He'd never quite caught onto the idea of using his powers now he had free reign of them, though, and was quite harmless. For lack of a better analogy, he looked somewhat like a haze of pistachio-flavored swamp gas.

Lupin, though much the same as the souls of the other humans, was having a bitter inner struggle. Werewolves, in his and Hermione's world, had never been studied particularly closely, just accepted as dangers to society that should be controlled. No one had ever quite been able to place the reason why the full moon was the only trigger for the lupine altered-nature; but now Remus was discovering that the human form must have had something to do with it, because where normally the wolf would be lurking somewhere in the depths of his mind, waiting for its chance to spring, it was now floating loosely about with the mind of the man who had previously kept it in check. Hermione might not have been so comfortable in her bed of pine and moss had she been able to see the things going on above and around her.

Eventually, Eloise and Sirius deemed that their bodies ought to wake up around now.' The discovery that these bodies no longer existed came as rather a shock, and Eloise was convinced that they were all dead; she had been trying to tell this to everyone else who would listen the moment she figured out how to get her voice to work.

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For the sake of technicality, we will say that Hermione awoke six hours and twenty-three minutes after falling out of her bridge into the clearing in what she assumed was the Golden Wood of Lothlorien.

For the first of these hours, none of the four conscious spirits above her could quite manage to get their voices' to work.

During the second of these hours, Snape, Draco, and Dobby figured out how to speak, but Lupin was a bit too occupied with himself attempt to.

Late in the third hour, both loud threats from Snape and the tantalizing scent of green contrived to convince Sirius that he could not possibly be unconscious, and that it was all in his head. He then opened his or rather, let himself choose to see his surroundings, and was very fast to find a voice with which to shout demands for information.

Four hours and forty-six minutes after the bridge had closed, Eloise The result of this can be left to the imagination; it is already known that she thought she was dead, and was very vocal about it.

Five hours and fourteen minutes after landing, Remus Lupin figured out how to scream.

Exactly an hour and nine minutes later, we began this chapter...

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I'm telling you, we must be dead!

This look much like hell to you, Midgen? sneered Draco's voice.

I should very well think I've done enough good in my life not to go to hell, Eloise said huffily. Of course it's heaven. Now, you being here, I don't understand...

Eloise, we are not dead. Sirius sounded weary and more than a little ticked.

How do you know? That elf hit you hard enough to kill a mountain troll, I bet --

She wasn't crazy when I saw her, I was, and if you'd just listen to someone for half a reasonable second --

No! No, I won't! Look, I'm dead, I'm not taking any more guff from you people, and I haven't any idea why you're here anyway if it's heaven, and --

She's not wearing it! Sirius roared.

Wearing what?

The ring, you nitwit, the stupid bloody ring! Look at her, that is not a crazy person, I know from crazy and where she may have been a bit out of it when she knocked you out, she didn't kill you, and we are currently in another universe, NOT IN BLOODY HEAVEN!

Hermione sat on the ground during all this, floundering about in the soggy remnants of her mind, trying to piece together the clues that led to the facts that she knew must be there. Finally, it all clicked, and she surged to her feet, patting all her pockets in a frenzy of dread and apprehension.

No, she hadn't been mistaken when she'd found the ring gone a minute or two before. Maybe it was something wrong with the spell; the ring could have-- have-- disrupted it, or something-- fallen into the void--

She spun about unconsciously and looked all around, as if expecting something huge and dreadful to leap out at her for losing the most important thing in this whole affair...

...and there it was. It had merely slipped out of her pocket when she'd rolled over at some point during her long sleep.

With a great sigh of exasperation she snatched it up and stuffed it in her breast pocket. She tried not to let it show, but her stomach was currently untwisting about a thousand little kinks that had suddenly appeared upon the unpleasant discovery.

She looked above her, where the disembodied voices of her companions were still arguing heatedly. She had half a mind to simply let them stay the way they were, where she wouldn't have to deal with them while she was traveling.

And yet, sadly, no... it seemed slightly inhumane. Hermione sighed, knowing what had to be done. She winced as Eloise shouted insults at her from the branches above. Eventually they'd discover that they could work magic spells in their current forms, and who knew what would happen then, especially with people like Snape and Malfoy on the loose.

she called loudly, hoping Eloise would hush so they could hear her.

You bloody little --

Yes, Hermione! What's going on?

She answered Sirius's question as best she could without going into a long, involved lecture on the technicalities of her spell.

You, um -- you might have noticed that your bodies are gone, she began, feeling rather small and vulnerable without her normal protection, magic. We're in Middle-earth, I'm not sure where, but we're here. The spell worked.

What the hell are you talking about, Granger? snarled Malfoy's voice.

We're in a different universe, you git, now shut up, Sirius snapped.

I warn you, Black... Snape sounded murderous.

Could we -- could we just stop fighting for a second, please? You're not dead, any of you -- your bodies are, kind of, but they're back in our world...

I am dead, I told you --!

No! Eloise, listen. You don't have a body here because you can't bring organic material through a void! The bridge goes through a void, so you can't come in a solid form; but, uh... your... your consciousnesses are here. Your magic. She felt a brief pang of loss. You can form your fundamental magic into a body and cement it if you want to. You won't be able to do any spells, but when you're like you are now, about the only thing you can do is spells. I need a body to destroy the ring, so I gave up my magic. You can choose either way, I suppose.

She received a blank silence as this bit of uncomfortable revelation was made.

Of course it's just a lie, Malfoy said momentarily. You can't travel across universes. Professor Snape knows. He's got more sense than you. Professor?

Snape gave no response.

Malfoy's voice sounded more frightened now.

Stop your whining and make a choice, Snape snapped. I loathe the thought, but the Muggle girl is right. I've seen the schematics and the spell is possible. He made Muggle' sound like a mortal insult, and Hermione winced, feeling the loss of her powers strongly.

P-Professor Lupin? Hermione asked momentarily.

The sound she got in reply was somewhere between a whimper and an animal snarl. She started, the full reality of his condition striking her suddenly. She'd had a vague idea that he might be having trouble, but as he'd said nothing aloud...

God, Remus! cried Sirius, as if it had occurred to him at the same moment -- or at least as if he had suddenly remembered. What's happening to him? he demanded of Hermione.

She had paled considerably and now took a stumbling step or two back into the moss. I-I don't know for sure, but no one knows... exactly how a... a werewolf... would react in an out-of-body experience...

He's not staying like this, Sirius said angrily; panicking, by the tone in his voice. He'll hurt himself. I don't care if he doesn't have a body to hurt! If he's melding --

I don't know how to get him down! Hermione cried, feeling utterly helpless. I haven't got my magic! You're -- You have to think yourself into a body -- that's the entire point! You have to have complete control of yourself for it to work, and I never meant for Professor Lupin to come, I knew something bad would happen --! She was almost in tears now, and backing away quickly, as if Sirius were solid and visible, and currently advancing on her.

But I can still do magic. Isn't there anything? I could -- I don't know -- help us here! Snape, for once get your sorry ass out of the dungeons and help!

Actually I was quite enjoying the show, Black, said Snape's oily, sarcastic voice. What do I care about Lupin? He can't hurt me, he's insubstantial.

Hermione's brain raced. Wait... Revalium!

There was an audible pause as Sirius's spirit seemed to freeze and metaphorically turn towards her.

Revalium Incantatem, Hermione said weakly. It -- it makes the essence of magic tangible... and all of you are the magical essences of yourselves...

There was a wail from where Lupin must have been. It was an odd call; Hermione could almost make a human voice out of it, if she tried hard enough; it was a sad sound, the sound of someone near the point of giving up after a lifetime of defiance. The sound of someone who's been holding on to a thread for years, and now that thread was fraying.

I can't think of anything else, Hermione whispered, sinking down into the moss.

There was a beat of silence. Hermione could almost see the small, watchful contortion that might be called a grin on Snape's face; she could almost see Malfoy and Eloise looking around at the others, scared and trying to stay out of the matter. Dobby would currently be crouching in a corner or banging his head on the wall, if he could.

I'll try it, said Sirius eventually. But if it doesn't work, I'm not sure there's anything left to do. And if it does -- there's no telling what might show up. Find a weapon, he might be dangerous.

She quickly scrambled for the nearest fallen branch, wishing in vain for her wand and her knowledge. There were some knives in her pack, but they were kitchen knives, and she didn't want to get in that close a range with anything like a half-transformed Professor Lupin.

As she picked up a large, sturdy limb that she could scarcely lift, her hand brushed something slippery... the Invisibility Cloak! She dropped the heavy branch instantly and picked up the (obviously) invisible object, unwrapping it from around Harry's precious racing broom. Quickly she hopped onto the broom and kicked off, rising ten, twenty feet into the air; slipping past a few small branches and twigs that stung as they whipped her face.

she gasped, edging out into a more open spot. I'm safe. I can go higher if I need to.

All right, brace yourself. Sirius' voice was grim. It may not work the first time, I haven't got the hang of this no-body thing yet. God, I wish I could hold a wand! Right...

Revalium Incantatem!

Hermione held her breath, her stomach gyrating about in directions she didn't even know were possible. She thought her liver and various other internal organs might have been in on it as well.

Something was happening...

A twisted shape began to writhe vaguely; its location was almost impossible to place; it was almost like the ripple of heat rising off the courtyard flagstones on a hot day, only that was not quite right, because it wasn't a symmetrical heat wave pattern; it was something... else. It had a shape, but that shape was indefinable.

A sudden rush of solidity slammed it to the ground; the spell was taking a firmer grip; it was trying to form the distortion into something real, but the distortion was fighting back. Hermione watched with revulsion as the thing squirmed unsuccessfully; here a patch of coarse gray fur; here a flash of pink skin flushed pale with effort and covered with cold sweat; here a bright, sharp claw, which gave a slash, and suddenly, here was a brief spray of red that stained the perfect golden leaves; here was an eye, almost yellow, almost slitted, but also -- almost human.

It looked directly up at Hermione, desperate, before vanishing into the chaos of melded wolf and man, each fighting for superiority. It appeared to be a stalemate, but one which would soon end in death -- for both of Remus's two natures. A glitter of teeth and he was biting himself; sunlight gleamed on a heavy, deadly gray paw; blood seeped into the ground and the moss drank it thirstily. The screaming snarl of the confused creature ripped through Hermione's head, making it impossible to think clearly. The young witch had never been in such a frenzied yet frozen state of panic.



Hermione heard herself screaming but she was sure she hadn't told her mouth to move. She shrieked the name of the only person she knew would help, even though she didn't know what he could do about this monstrosity. Hermione's eyes were blurred with stinging saltwater tears, but she couldn't wipe them away because she was gripping the handle of the Firebolt with both hands, so hard she thought her fingers might break, or at least she would splinter the broom apart; and then she'd have nothing to save her from that thing below her; that miserable, murderous, waiting monster that used to be her teacher and her friend...

She hadn't meant for him to come... the spell hadn't been designed for werewolves...

She heard Snape's brief, unhappy laugh, and Malfoy's exclamation of horror. She heard Eloise scream, and imagined her running; her spirit would be fleeing into the trees, hiding from the sight below. Dobby was shouting incoherent things; Hermione could just see him dodging about trees, confused, scared: not understanding that he could probably save Professor Lupin's life if he would just use his magic for once.

Sirius' voice rose out of the half-snarls and screams, the howls of pain and aggression. He seemed to be shouting a spell, but in her agitated state, Hermione couldn't place it; although she knew she had heard it before...

Versipellis! Versipellis! Damn it! Versipellis, bloody hell, Remus, VERSIPELLIS!

Slowly, ever so slowly -- almost unnoticeably -- the gleaming sweaty surface of human skin was beginning to cover the patches wolf fur. Humanity was beginning to take over; the snarls became anguished gasps and yells of pain even as they were uttered. Ears receded from the top of Remus's still-gray head, down to their more normal side position; the coarse fur retreated from his forehead and shrank into its usual human length; eyes slowly faded from the primal wolfish yellow into Lupin's soft brown.

Hermione was already descending to the ground, abandoning all caution in the face of helping her friend and favorite teacher. She crumpled onto the moss, dropping the broom ungracefully and scrambling to her feet. She ran to the packs lying on the ground and ripped open one of the two Sirius had been carrying, which she had had the presence of mind to include in her spell just before it had all gone out of control.

As she had hoped, Sirius had had a change of robes with him. She pulled them out, hoping Sirius and Remus wore roughly the same size: a glance over her shoulder had told her that she had not included Professor Lupin's clothes in the bridge-spell quite quickly enough.

Turning to the now fully-human, spasmodically shuddering professor, she laid Sirius' robes over him like a blanket and gently turned him onto his back.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Remus opened his eyes a fraction and looked up into Hermione's face. He tried to speak, but only succeeded in bringing on another convulsion. Hermione tried to hold his head still while it took its time in passing.

He's all right, isn't he? Sirius' voice was faint, and he sounded pale.

Hermione felt his neck for a pulse. His eyes were closed again, and he had apparently fallen unconscious, but he was alive -- not steadily, but alive.

she said, her voice wavering. He's -- he'll live, I think. What did you do?

Turnskin Charm, Sirius said distantly. It -- it changes people. It's... sort of like Homorphous, but not so hard, and not permanent... He trailed off.

Hermione lifted Lupin's head into her lap, holding it up so he wouldn't choke on his own blood. She didn't know much about medicine, but she had been tutored by Madam Pomfrey for a single semester with a group of other sixth years, because the nurse had needed a sight larger staff during the war. Most of what Hermione had done was change bandages, but, well -- at least that was something.

Sirius, do you know any healing charms? she asked absently, holding one of the washcloths she had borrowed' from Madam Pomfrey's stores over Lupin's split lip, trying to staunch it.

Won't work on werewolves. They just rebound. I know... he got hurt a lot when we were in school... James tried, but we just left it to Pomfrey mainly...

Well, if magic won't help then either get down here or tell me what to do, she said grimly.



She looked up at the sky, but with a sort of focused air, as if she could see Sirius and the others despite their invisibility. Is there a sort of unformed thing flickering around at the back of your head?



Just look for it.

There was a brief silence, and then Sirius said slowly, I... think I see what you mean.

Don't look right at it. You have to look at sort of sideways, like when you look at something bright for too long and there's a residual image, but if you look right at it, you can't see it. Just keep looking at it that way, and change it into what you want it to be. Try your normal body, actually, that's safest. Safer to stick with about the same amount of mass as you're used to.

As she waited for Sirius to do as she said, Hermione felt all along Professor Lupin's limbs for broken bones, but he seemed to be in one piece. Only his ankle was at an odd angle, and this she left alone for the time, afraid that she might make it worse by trying to help.

Right... I think I have it, came Sirius voice eventually. I'm not visible yet, am I?

She allowed a small grin. No. You have to concrete yourself. I think I included your clothes in the spell...

Excuse me? He sounded startled.

Well, clothes are inanimate mass, they come separate. What, you have at least that much common sense, don't you? Anyway, they ought to materialize along with you, but I'd recommend getting behind a bush or something before you try to become visible.

This ties for the worst day of my life, he muttered. Hermione didn't ask what the worst day was; she imagined that about twelve years' worth of his life was tied for first.

Hermione carefully pulled Professor Lupin into a sitting position with his back against the nearest tree, and left his side to take stock of everything she'd managed to bring with her. Dobby's sack of food was there, as were Eloise's and Dobby's packs of belongings. The Invisibility Cloak had fallen on top of Hermione's bag when she'd dropped it, and she only found them again when she tripped over them. All of Sirius' stuff appeared to be present, although she couldn't account for anything the others might have been carrying; but she was pretty sure she hadn't seen anything else.

Sirius's voice startled her when it spoke again; it was very close and seemed to be on the ground again.

It worked, he said, slightly muffled. She turned, and saw that some of the foliage behind her was rustling and jerking fitfully. A moment later there was a loud sneeze followed by a string of curses. Hermione almost smiled, but couldn't quite bring herself to it. A hand appeared and eventually Sirius struggled out of the bush.

grunted Sirius, trying to untangle a prickly-looking leaf from his already hopelessly tangled hair. Got inside the bush instead of behind it.

Hermione was completely taken aback by his appearance. He looked about twenty years younger, and though his black eyes had not lost their faintly haunted sense, they seemed far more bright and acutely interested. This was the Sirius in Harry's photo album; the Sirius who had graduated Hogwarts, who had been at James and Lily's wedding, and who had been named Harry's godfather.

Hermione mouthed for a moment, realizing that suddenly there were only a few years' age difference between them. She took a step back uncomfortably.

He gave her a small grin. Feels odd to be rid of twenty years of hate, he said in response to her astonished look.

Hermione nodded, finally taking her eyes off him.

Lily was always the obligatory nurse whenever one of us at school got hurt and didn't want to go to Pomfrey for fear of giving ourselves away, Sirius said absently, looking through Hermione's bag. I picked up some stuff... not a lot, but it'll help.

It's -- it's probably more than I know, she stammered.

I saw you had some feverfew, what else did you swipe from the slimeball? Sirius asked, reading the labels on a dozen or so jars and bottles.

I heard that, Black, came Snape's icy voice. Hermione jumped slightly; the Potions professor was standing right by the edge of the clearing, as greasy-haired and hook-nosed as always. Apparently he hadn't changed a thing about his appearance.

Hermione gave him a barely visible scowl. You could at least materialize a few inches above the ground, she muttered, so I'd hear the thump.

Bully for you, Sirius replied more audibly, not looking up. I can probably make something out of this. Ground's kind of damp, there's probably some water nearby. Think you could find it? He addressed this question to Hermione, deliberately ignoring Snape.

Hermione answered quickly, snapping out of the daze she kept slipping into: I am in... another... universe...

As she walked off in the direction Sirius had indicated, carrying the collapsible bucket she'd borrowed' from Filch's broom closet, she listened to the fading conversation of the two men:

Look, Snape, I know you can make healing potions. You don't even need your own magic to make potions...

I'd rather watch the pathetic werewolf heal on his own.

Don't get me started, you bastard --

What are you going to do, Black? An almost audible sneer. Not even a simple disarming spell at your disposal... what a pity...

I haven't survived as long as I have without learning a few non-magical methods of pain...

Hermione went out of earshot. She hoped that she wouldn't have three beaten and bloody people to deal with when she got back. Perhaps she could convince Dobby to use his magic -- to stay insubstantial for the rest of their journey, so he could help them out. In a solid form he'd probably be completely useless... the small, frail body of a house-elf without its only advantage; that of unmeasurable power... He would be slow, scared, nothing but dead weight that ate up their extra food -- unless he kept his magic.

As Hermione pushed aside a protruding branch, receiving her first few scratches in this new body, she finally heard what she wanted to hear: running water. Hurrying in the direction of the faint gurgling rush, she barely missed tripping over tree roots and mounds of old leaves. Emerging beside the small river, she took immediate note of all the willow trees leaning over it's banks, drinking up the murky liquid. Hermione chose to ignore them for the moment, instead rushing over and dipping her hands into the cold water, splashing her face and drinking deep. Her six hours of unconsciousness were catching up to her, and she found that she was extremely hungry and thirsty. She took this opportunity when she was completely alone to attend to other business, as well.

When she was done, she unfolded the bucket and filled it with water. Taking a final sip, she turned regretfully to leave.

Now she could look at the willow trees with more focus, more clarity of mind. She frowned... willows... it was triggering something in the back of her mind, she just couldn't remember what.

Shrugging, she made her way back to the clearing where the other were. When she came in earshot of the conversation, she instantly began walking as fast as she could without sloshing her bucket too much. Emerging near where Professor Lupin still lay unconscious, she set down the bucket and ran to help Eloise restrain Sirius.

Draco and Eloise had apparently decided on taking tangible bodies, thought they had crafted themselves a little less expertly than Sirius, Snape, and Hermione. Draco, though obviously solid, was somewhat hazy, as if he had a light mist hanging around his body. Eloise was in sharper focus, but her hair was mouse-brown, and her right hand was... deformed. Withered, shriveled away like a raisin.

Surprisingly, she was holding Sirius' left arm tightly with the shrunken hand, and it seemed to be working quite well at holding him back. In fact, his left forearm and hand were a very slight shade of purple, as if she were cutting off his circulation. She wasn't even holding onto him with her other hand.

The shouts and insults coming out of Sirius were all but incomprehensible. Snape stood opposite Sirius, speaking in a loud, slow, condescending voice that was completely drowned out by Sirius' incoherent (but very rude) shouting. Snape's nose was bloody and Sirius had a split lip, but that appeared to be the extent of the damage. Draco was hovering (almost literally) around Professor Snape, trying in vain to find appropriate calming words that still wouldn't indicate that he was on Sirius' side. Eloise merely gritted her teeth and pulled on Sirius' arm as hard as she could. He didn't seem to notice.

Hermione saw how helpless it was to try and break them up herself; instead she edged over to where Lupin lay still, and tried calling Dobby. She nearly had to yell at the top of her lungs, but the others didn't notice, and Dobby eventually heard her.

Yes, miss? said his frightened, quavery squeak of a voice, out of nowhere. Hermione jumped a foot in the air and put a hand to her heart.

she gasped. Right, you just startled me. You're going to have to break up the others. Think you can do that?

Y-Yes, miss, Dobby thinks so.

Ten seconds passed with no difference and Hermione was almost ready to give up, when suddenly there was a bang, like a firecracker going off nearby, and all four quarreling companions were flung apart with the force of a small bomb.

Just for a moment, blessed silence fell. Hermione cut in the second before the protests would begin, speaking loudly and clearly.

Everyone, stop it, she said, walking over to them. She reached out one hand each to Sirius and Snape, offering to help them up. Neither took her hand, but they took her point. We're stuck here. Do you understand that? You can't just go home when you want to. I'm very sorry about that, I never meant for it to happen -- but you didn't get out of the circle when I told you to, and you can't just pause magicks that big; so it's not entirely my fault. I don't know where we are, and until I know that I can't even say what the next step of action is. So, please, stop fighting -- not just this time, but all the time. I know this is an... interestingly matched group of people, but there's only so many black eyes I can stand before I start giving them out myself. Besides, we've only got so much we can do in the way of healing. Only Dobby can do spells, Snape can make potions, Sirius, Eloise and I know a little of the common sense of medical procedures. None of us are doctors, and right now that's what Professor Lupin really needs. We're going to have to work together, whether you like it or not.

She took a deep breath, walked back to Lupin, and sat down by his side. Silence met her speech, and they must have remained still for nearly a quarter of an hour. Finally Eloise put out her wasted hand and pushed herself to her feet; without looking back at the others, she walked to Hermione and sat down on the other side of Professor Lupin.

She's right, you know, said Eloise in a low voice, training her eyes on Lupin's disfigured face.

Eventually Snape and Sirius got to their feet, both deliberately ignoring each other as they brushed themselves off and regained their composure.

Hermione watched Draco surreptitiously throughout this. The pale boy's face showed no sign of accepting Hermione's terms -- in fact, it showed nothing. His expression was completely blank. Hermione frowned slightly.

Getting up once again, she walked to him and held out her hand. He glared up at her; she reached down and grabbed his arm instead, hauling him to his feet. He tried to shove her off, but she dodged him and deliberately brushed the leaves and pine needles off the back of his robes. When she let go of him, he snarled at her and jerked his robes straight.

Come off it, Malfoy, she snapped in a low voice. Stop being an ass. What do you know about healing?

he growled. Absolutely nothing. Satisfied, Granger? Does my ignorance brighten up your day?

she muttered, taking a step away from him. Your honesty does. Thank you.

He opened his mouth, held it for a second, and then shut it quickly.

If anyone needs an extra pair of hands, I see two perfectly good ones at the ends of your wrists. Understand?

He hesitated, then nodded curtly. Hermione turned away and knelt by the inert werewolf, taking up her abandoned washcloth and dipping it into the bucket of water. Gently she began clearing the blood off of Lupin's injuries.

The five of them worked in relative silence for most of the day. Hermione took a good look through Sirius' packs, looking for anything useful; but what worried her most was their supply of food. There were now six people to split it between, and Dobby had only packed three travelers' worth -- enough for perhaps five days, according to the original plan. With the added company, it might last two days at best, not counting tonight.

She walked past Snape and Sirius, who were snapping quietly at each other over how much of some ingredient or other Sirius had added to the potion Snape had directed him to make. Ignoring them, Hermione dug around in her own bag until she came up with a compass, the trilogy of books themselves, and Dumbledore's map of Middle-earth that she had packed at the last minute.

She turned until she saw that she was facing north, then sat down. From her memory of the walk, she judged that the small river she had found was to her right -- to the east. It seemed to run north to south, roughly -- at least it did in the stretch of it that she had found.

Weeping willows...

Yellow willow leaves falling on water. It was triggering such a vivid memory, a vision from... from the books? She had such clear, bright, vivid mental images of any story she read that sometimes they blurred into real life in her mind. But this was certainly a picture from the books. One of the various forests had looked like this. Sadly she ruled out Lothlorien -- though if one of the lesser woods was this beautiful, she could hardly imagine the enchanted Golden Wood.

Fangorn? No, she would be seeing Ents, wouldn't she? Maybe it was...

The Old Forest.

That had to be it. She had all but forgotten about Tom Bombadil and Old Man Willow -- they had so little to do with the ultimate plot, and Hermione had felt opposed to Bombadil in particular. He was so pointless -- and his singing was annoying.

But this was his forest -- the Old Forest, east of the Brandywine, west of the Misty Mountains.

Hermione brightened, glad to have at least a general idea of where they were. But her brief pleasure was dampened by the nagging fact of their limited food; they couldn't possibly get out of the woods in time to reach a settlement, especially not if they were as aware or treacherous as the books had made them out to be. Plus, she was dismayed that they had landed so far from their eventual destination. They'd have to make almost the exact same journey the Fellowship had.

But maybe they could do it with less secrecy. Of course, they'd have to hide the Ring, but they could at least go into villages and talk to people without the overhanging menace of the Shadow in the East. No Black Riders; no great Eye watching over them...

There was a quiet, sickening crunch that brought Hermione back to reality with a queasy vengeance. She hardly dared to wonder what the sound had been, but she suspected it had something to do with that oddly bent ankle of Remus'.

After a moment, she quelled her nausea and turned to look. Draco was holding Lupin's foot stiff and straight, while Snape wrapped a makeshift splint on tightly with a roll of gauze he'd found in Hermione's bag. His constant scowl had vanished momentarily, replaced by a look of concentration. He seemed to take pleasure in binding the splint tighter than seemed possible. Draco's hazy hands were trembling, and he looked slightly green. Apparently Snape had ordered him to realign the broken bones, and Draco wasn't very pleased with the assignment.

Eloise was cleaning up and repacking the materials Sirius and Snape had used to make the potion that Sirius now held: a fairly large bottle of purplish-blue liquid. Avoiding his cold eyes, Sirius handed Snape the bottle and a fresh roll of gauze. Snape promptly set to applying the thick, blueish potion to all of Remus' cuts and bites, waving Draco away.

Hermione walked over to Eloise, and they were momentarily joined by Sirius. Draco hung back, opting for an old tree stump as a seat -- at least he was far away from the others. He looked at his hands and shuddered, hiding them in the folds of his robe; but no one else noticed.

I think I know where we are, Hermione murmured, looking at the ground. Sirius and Eloise looked up at her, hopefully. Hermione dragged her eyes up to theirs. I'm pretty sure this is the Old Forest. I got that water from a river over there -- she gestured vaguely to the east -- and it was lined with willows. Remember Old Man Willow?

They both nodded. That's good, said Sirius. At least we didn't land in -- Moria, or something.

Hermione frowned. Well, I'd kind of hoped to land somewhere closer to... to Mordor. Sirius fell silent.

Eloise piped up, the Old Forest is a decent place to start, close or not. It's going to be a long walk either way. You do realize it took the Fellowship nearly a year to finish their journey? Starting from where we are now?

They spent two months in Rivendell, and another in Lorien, reasoned Hermione. Besides, we won't have all the restrictions they had. There won't be anyone chasing us, and we can go on open roads for the whole way. I'm hoping to get this over with as fast as possible.

They don't have any faster method of transportation here than horses, mused Sirius. We'll still be three, four months at best. I mean, none of us are made for long journeys. I can't even Apparate.

Oh, that reminds me, said Hermione, changing the subject. This map. I know you can't do magic, but I was hoping you could tell Dobby how you made the Marauder's Map. If we had a similar thing here...

Sirius took the piece of paper from her and squinted at it. The map of Hogwarts is more localized, he said doubtfully. This is... it covers too large an area to show every single person --

No, no, it doesn't have to be everyone, said Hermione, grinning slightly. Just us -- er -- seven. So we can know exactly where we are. And if we get split up, whoever's got the map can find everyone else, no trouble.

Sirius nodded. I can -- I mean, Dobby can do that. That is, if he understands me.

He will, Hermione said, sounding more convinced than she felt. Honestly, for their only magic-worker, Dobby was a bit doubtful. He was powerful enough, but when she really thought about it, she didn't know if he was really capable of the complex challenges they'd set for him.

It's a good idea, said Sirius supportively, before calling for Dobby. He and the disembodied voice of the house-elf began discussing the map in low voices.

Hermione and Eloise sat in silence for a moment. So, er, said Hermione tentatively. What... what happened to your hand?

Eloise grinned wryly. Well, I thought that if I was going to make a new body, I ought to... improve it. She laughed ruefully, tugging on her brown hair. The hair is just a whim. I was afraid of what would happen if I tried to change my entire body, so I decided on just changing my hand... it's incredibly strong. She picked up a small fallen branch and crushed it into toothpick-sized splinters in seconds. Hermione blinked. I suppose I succeeded... but I didn't know how a super-strong hand would look, so I was kind of vague when I pictured it. This is what I got. She lifted the wrinkled, bony thing that passed as her right hand. she added, it's not like I made my arm muscles any stronger. I can't lift Snape one-handed or anything. But if I hold onto something, there's no chance in hell of me letting go until I want to.

Hermione nodded, smiling. It was a good idea, she said, echoing Sirius. Her smile faded. Look, Eloise... She swallowed and her gaze darted to the ground. I'm sorry.

Eloise was confused. For what?

Hermione looked up, just as befuddled. Why? I... I knocked you out, I brought you here -- I never even asked for your opinion. I just assumed --

Oh, yeah, said Eloise, her face clearing. Well, I wanted to kill you there for a while, but... She glanced over her shoulder at the others, her eyes lingering on Lupin in particular. I just can't bring myself to feeling angry any more, she conceded with a sigh. I've hardly known you for two years, and this... all of this is just so unlike you. I was completely thrown for a while, but I think I finally realized that this was the necessary choice. She shrugged uncomfortably. I probably would have chosen to come with you anyway, if I'd had the chance. At least I'll get the free tour of Middle-earth. She looked up and grinned; an honestly excited expression, not forced at all. How many people get to see their favorite books in real life?

Hermione smiled back. Not many, I'm sure. And... I'm pretty sure the bridge-spell will work going into any dimension, not just this one, or our own. There might even be a world somewhere where we're fictional; who knows?

Eloise snorted. That's a weird thought. I hope the writer made me look better.

Hermione laughed. I'll bet Harry's the main character, if anyone. He's the hero type. Harry versus Voldemort.

Eloise giggled. Well, if Ron gets paired with anyone besides me in Harry's stories, I'm going to get seriously annoyed.

I'm sure the writer from the other world knows that you and Ron are inseparable, said Hermione, grinning.

Eloise sobered a bit. Four months without him, she murmured. I wonder if I can handle it. I already miss him.

Hermione patted her back. We'll make it through this just fine, she said encouragingly. I'm sure Ron's thinking about you right now.

Can you get us back?

Hermione suddenly frowned.

Eloise looked her straight on and repeated, Can you get us home? Do you have what's needed to get us back?

Hermione said firmly, looking stolidly back into the other girl's eyes. I can do the spell again. I planned ahead -- Dobby is essential to the process, and he has to be able to do magic, that's why I can't let him cement himself. I was the focus the last time -- the bridge itself formed in my mind and jumped into reality when it was fully formed. Dobby will have to be the focus this time, but I'm sure he can do it. The muffler is easy to weave, he can do that; and there won't have to be a circle of protection this time, because we don't have bodies to protect. The trip back should be much easier. And really, only two ingredients are irreplaceable -- the sand from a Time-Turner mixed with some enhanced Floo powder. Time and space, you know.

Eloise nodded. Just checking. I love this place in my mind -- but I don't want to spent the rest of my life here.

I understand. Hermione sighed. This is so incredible, but... I don't know. Somehow I'm not overwhelmed by the place... I'm only tired. That's all I can feel. I don't know if I can take this thing to the dark land. I don't know if I'm as strong as Frodo was. And I don't even have a Sam to help me.

Sure you do, said Eloise, surprised. You've got me. And Sirius, for sure -- he'd never leave you behind. I haven't known him as long as you have, but I trust him -- and I know you trust him. Malfoy and Professor Snape are at least equivalent to... oh, I dunno. Gollum and Boromir.

Hermione laughed softly. Well, maybe Legolas and Gimli, Eloise conceded. She thought for a moment, and giggled. Dear God, can you picture Snape as a dwarf? All short and ax-weilding, with bushy hair...

Hermione snorted. Greasy bushy hair, she corrected.

Both of them fell out laughing, attracting glares from Snape and Draco, and a strange look from Sirius.

The pure, golden sunlight had been fading all the while they spoke. It shifted imperceptibly from the bright, clear light of the afternoon sun into the more filtered light of evening, until, finally, it became tinted with a dark blood red; a reddish shade of purple; a deep indigo; and in the end, the darkest of all blues.

Hermione looked up to see a few tiny stars peeking through the swaying branches above her. The vision was beautiful; time slowed for an instant, and Hermione found herself wishing that she could be up there with the pinpricks of fire, which seemed to be singing, in a collective voice that was so musical and joyous that she felt her heart soaring. She didn't want to be down here, stuck among the dingy, uninviting trees, with such a heavy burden, with such guilt and responsibility weighing on her mind...

Eloise was looking up as well. Suddenly she spoke, quiet but clear nonetheless:

And there maybe tis cloudless night,
And swaying beeches bear
The Elven stars as jewels white
Amid their branching hair...

Hermione brought her eyes down to meet Eloise's. The darkness obscured their faces, but each could see the other's eyes glittering brightly with reflected starlight.

That sounds familiar, said Hermione, trying to think of the books, trying to remember all the poetry... there had been so much of it...

Sam's song, Eloise replied. In the third book. In Western lands beneath the sun...'

Oh, I remember, said Hermione, recalling that particular poem quite clearly. 'Though here at journey's end I lie, in darkness buried deep...'

Eloise turned her eyes back to the sky. I've loved that poem ever since I first read the books, she whispered. I memorized it when I was seven.

I remember... Hermione frowned. I only remember one other. We still remember, we who dwell/ In this far land beneath the trees/ Thy starlight on the Western seas.'

Eloise nodded. I know that one. I can recite half the poetry from Tolkien. She grinned in the dark. 'Gil-galad was an Elven king, of him the harpers sadly sing...'

Hermione laughed. I don't want to hear all of it now, she said. Save it. Whenever we hit some big landmark from the books you can have a poem ready for the occasion.

I'll hold you to that, you know, said Eloise, standing up. You'll have to endure a ballad or something for just about every square foot of this place...

Oh, save me, save me, Hermione muttered sarcastically. What are you getting?

Something to eat, said Eloise, stumbling slightly in the growing dark as she made her way to the bags. I'm starving.

Hermione followed her. Don't get too much, she said worriedly. We have to conserve... I think this'll last us two days or so, if we're careful...

Eloise froze. Only two days? she repeated. Why didn't you say so before?

Hermione opened her mouth, but Sirius' voice cut off her reply. Dobby, can you make some kind of light? I can't see a thing I'm doing.

Dobby squeaked incoherently, and suddenly there was a bright, clear light filling the clearing. Sirius looked up, squinting and blinking in surprise. he muttered, as if he hardly believed it. Well, I think this thing's ready. Try the activation spell. Sirius bent back over his map.

Draco slipped off his tree stump and slunk over to Eloise and Hermione. he said dryly. Are we ever getting any dinner? Or does being made of magic mean we're immortal, or something?

Hermione glared at him and snapped, For your information, no, we are not immortal this way. Draco blinked and uncrossed his arms at her tone. I don't think so, anyway, Hermione went on, less harshly. I really don't know much about this. There's only so much that books and math can tell you. This is all new territory. But I do know that I'm hungry, so I guess we have to eat to survive, just like normal.

Draco made a small noise of consent. He looked over Hermione's shoulder, checking on Snape and Lupin; Hermione followed his gaze.

Snape was leaning on the tree trunk next to Lupin, staring up into the dark branches, fingering the empty potion bottle. Apparently he'd been sitting there for some time, doing nothing; his scowl was back, a small distortion at one corner of his mouth, making his expression perpetually unpleasant. Lupin himself was fully bandaged and cleaned up; all there was to do now was to wait for him to heal.

How are we going to get out of these woods with only two days of food and Professor Lupin to take care of? Eloise asked suddenly. Hermione looked sharply at her and saw that her eyes were wide with the sudden realization of their predicament.

Hermione shook her head. I don't know. This was never going to be easy. Now it's just a little harder.

A little? repeated Draco incredulously. We only have two days' worth of food? Good Lord, Granger, could you have mentioned this a little earlier?

Hermione began to say, Oh, shut up, but once again Sirius' voice interrupted her. Everyone's eyes, even Snape's, turned to him as he made his sudden announcement.

I've got it, he said loudly, standing up and holding out the map. It shows all seven of us now.

Hermione stood and took it from him, looking it over. A relieved smile broke over her face, and she thrust the map into Draco's face triumphantly. See, Malfoy? You can stuff it. Draco jerked backwards, indignant.

What is it? asked Eloise, trying to take the map from Hermione for a look.

We're hardly two miles from the eastern edge of the forest, she said smugly. If we can make it through the barrow-downs in two days -- which is perfectly possible, I mean, the hobbits got through that fast, and they even got lost for a while -- if we can make it before our food runs out, we ought to hit Bree pretty quickly. See, Eloise, you'll have to sing that one about the man in the moon when we get there. She grinned.

Eloise smiled back. That's great! We've actually got a plan.

Tomorrow morning, we head out, said Hermione firmly. This is the beginning... just don't expect it to be over anytime soon.
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