Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or The Hobbit. All properties therein are those of their creators. I am only a writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love.

Note: To my knowledge Tolkien never outright stated why there are so few elves in Middle Earth, and that got me to wondering. With literally endless time to 'get down' shouldn't they all be cranking out kids like crazy? Even if contraception takes a long time for them all? The solution I came up with for this story is thus: Elves have only one partner in their lives. They do not have a lot of kids because they wait until they find that one person to mate with. In some cases the bond builds over time, in others it's a sudden thing that becomes undeniable. That last might be important in a bit…

Chapter Eight - Mirkwood Forest and Dol Guldur

Gandalf awoke to three things that captured his attention. The first, his sore back, was rather familiar to him. Keeping the form of an old man was fun for nobody. The second, was a little surprising. All of his companions were gone from the large house. The third, was just strange. The window by the door kept being periodically covered by shade, and the sound of many hands clapping could be heard in time with it.

Deciding to see what all of this was about, and greatly hoping Beorn was a more agreeable version of himself than before, the aged wizard got up onto his feet, retrieved his staff and sword, and made his way out the now unlocked front door to the lawn where his eyes finally found the source of all that strangeness.

The dwarves and Bilbo were all present with a giant man that could only be Beorn, sitting in a group crosslegged on the ground, eating a nice breakfast of bread, cheese, and fruit, and watching… An eight foot tall bat!

Gandalf shot his staff forward, the tip blazing with fire primed for an explosion, but before he could release the spell, the beast shifted in front of his very eyes, collapsing on itself back into a humanoid form he knew very well. It seemed that Harry had learned a new skill. Slowly he allowed the power to leave his staff, and as his companions clapped anew (aw, they were watching a showcase) the vampire changed again, this time into a mighty black warg, teeth proudly displayed as he struck a pose, one paw raised as if he were ready to break into a run.

As the applause came again, Harry looked the old wizard's way and seemed to realize that it was time for the show to end. He returned to his 'human' form, much to the disappointment of his audience, and took a seat beside Thorin to toss a loose grape into his mouth while waving his last companion over to join them.

"Don't mind if I do." Gandalf made his way over and sat beside them all, gratefully taking a plate from their oversized host. "Master Beorn, I wish to apologize for our sudden-"

The big man held up a hand to stall him. "The vampire already explained and paid for lodging and food. No further explanation is needed."

"Oh." Gandalf nodded to his youngest companion, "Thank you then, Harry. It seemed I missed much while I was asleep. Including this useful new power of yours. How does it work?"

Harry ate another few grapes before answering, "I drank from Beorn earlier this morning. Near as I can tell, it made me a shifter, but I can only turn into creatures of the night. Wolves, giant bats, wargs, cats, and the like. I tried becoming more light oriented creatures like lions, eagles, and horses, and I got nowhere."

"What about dark creatures, such as goblins or trolls?"

"Tried it, didn't get anywhere. I guess I can't turn into a sentient creature."

Thorin chuckled around the rim of his mug of milk, "That would explain why you couldn't turn into a dragon."

"I only tried that so we could find a weakness for it."

"Sure, I believe entirely that it wasn't from some deep desire to breath fire." The dwarf prince drawled sarcastically, earning a shoulder thump from his brother that almost laid him out.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up why don't ya. Anyway, Gandalf, I already worked everything out with our host here, our supplies are packed and ready, and as you can see the dwarves are fed and watered, as it were, so once you finish your meal we can be safely on our way."

Gandalf raised a brow, "Most impressive, but has there been any other sign of our previous pursuers?"

Beorn huffed and crossed his arms. "Goblins would not dare set foot on my lands, but if they did try to come after you they'd never leave again. Your backs are safe with me watching them."

"I am glad to hear it." The grey wizard said amicably, and with nothing else to focus on, dug into his breakfast.

From there it was a short thing to say their farewells. The dwarves, hobbit, and Gandalf thanked their host profusely and made it to their horses. Harry though… he took a second.

"Beorn."

"Hm."

The wizard took a hold of the big man's wrists, and pricked his index fingers with his thumb nails before rubbing some of his own blood along the big man's scarred skin. Before the skin changer's eyes, the manacle scars that had haunted him since his captivity, faded into nothing, leaving behind healthy, if a bit dry, skin in their place.

"Why?" So shocked was he that the man did not think to ask how it had been done.

Harry stared into his eyes and said, "I too was a captive in my past. For a great deal of my youth in fact. For a time the goblins even had me as they had you. I understand, more than most, that the scars inside of us will never entirely heal, but I can at least do a little bit to help those on the outside fade."

In a flash, the big man's right arm shot forward out of the vampire's grip and latched onto his forearm before stopping, expectant. Harry nodded and closed his fingers on his host's forearm in kind.

Beorn's voice was deep, tight, and full of emotion. "Long have those scars been heavy upon my mind. Long have they been a reminder that kept me from moving on. For this boon above all others I give you my word here and now. Should you ever have need of me, send word, and I will be there."

Harry smiled wide and answered, "I just might hold you to that." They released each other then, "Take care Beorn, and may your life here contain the peace that both of us have long been denied."

No other words were said after that, none more were needed. There was little better understanding to be had in the world then that of those who had experienced the same pain. Harry returned to his horse, held steady by his brother, and as one the group rode off on the path that led into the trees. None of them looked back.

To his credit, Beorn had maintained an orderly forest path, and because of this it only took half a days travel to reach the small space of cleared land that separated Beorn's woods, with the forest of Mirkwood. Clear trepidation marked all of their horses and ponies hooves as they drew ever closer to the dark tree line, and when they were but a few seconds from finally entering, they came to a stop.

"You'll be heading off then, Gandalf?" Thorin wheeled his pony around to face the much higher wizard.

"Yes. I'm truly sorry, Thorin, but I must be sure of the situation at Dol Goldur."

"You've made that clear. I only hope you won't abscond with my brother at a time when he is most needed."

"So do I." Gandalf cast a worried eye on all present and said, "Stay together, do not leave the road under any circumstances, and beware the dark of the woods. I've heard tales of dark creatures living amongst them. Standing here now I can believe them to be true. Thranduil's forest has fallen far. Be safe my friends." Having said his piece, the grey wizard turned his horse and with a kick with the stirrups, took off into the distance.

The company watched him go before eventually turning back to the path. They could only see a few feet into the woods ahead, so thick was the cover of the gnarled trees blocking out the sunlight. However what little of the trail was visible made it clear that it was not suited for the ponies. Thick vines rose up in the path of the earth, crushed and jagged boulders and rocks littered the ground. It wasn't even a debate. The travelers simply dismounted their animals, removed their supplies, and Harry condensed the poor creatures back into marbles. He really hated doing that.

Thorin pointed to the road, "Harry, is there anything you tell about this path? I'd like to know of any dangers before subjecting our company to them."

The wizard nodded and squatted down before the path. "That is my job, and the task Galadriel asked of me." As he stared at the broken cobbled pathway he opened himself up to the ambient magic of the earth and sky and pushed his awareness into the road (Galadriel and Elrond had offered some tips in this regard) What he got was an amalgamation of emotion, sensation, and sound. Near-Invisible runes carved into the rock beneath the road itself became illuminated to his gaze in the flowing elvish script. It was so much information at once that no sane person could have possibly made sense of it all. Luckily he had someone that was sane-adjacent living in his skull.

"Does any of this make sense, Luna?"

{Hm, oh yes. Yes it does. Harry, the road is not only in disrepair, it's cursed!}

"Cursed?"

{Oh yes. There will not be any game willing to approach travelers, so resupplying food is a no-go. What is more, should someone leave the path their minds will become too heavily confunded to ever find their way back to it. Death by exposure is very likely at this point.}

"So the whole thing a verified deathtrap. Anything else?"

{Well, the elvish runes are interspersed with other runes of the Black Speech. Their function seems to be to corrupt the travelers themselves.}

"That sounds promising, in what way?"

{Hallucinations of a never-ending road, increased aggression, shortened tempers, heightened hunger and thirst. Basically, the road is primed to make travelers consume their food and drinks at twice the normal rate, turn on each other, potentially get violent, and make them want to leave the path where again they will never be able to return.}

"Hm, sounds like there's really not a way to get through."

{For anyone else, no. But we can do it easily! Our mental shields are more than strong enough to hold off these paltry effects. And we can make a runic defense for our friends with old Voldy's memories. Do you think Galadriel will praise us for this?}

"Oh most assuredly. Now what runes would best shield us all?"

Ten minutes later Harry stood back up, tore a few strips off of one of his old shirts and waved a hand, turning them into a series of leather headbands absolutely covered in runic script. He passed them out to all of his companions and explained the situation. "With our current supplies, as long as we're careful, we should make it through no problem, but like Gandalf said, we can't leave the path. That's the only effect these headbands won't protect you from."

"Why not, if you don't mind me asking?" Bilbo asked easily as he slipped the leather snugly over his forehead.

"Because the runes for that effect were transcribed on the road and within the forest itself. Vile things."

Thorin nodded, "Indeed, but there's nothing left to do now that I can think of. To go around would take too long. Let us be off and through."

The dwarves cheered, the wizard smiled, and the Hobbit nervously clapped at the decisiveness of his leader. So it was, that together they set off into the cursed forest of Mirkwood.

The next several days were near torturous. Even with the aid of the headbands to soothe their temperaments and appetites, the black atmosphere of the place seemed to weigh down on them so heavily as to work as a greater force of gravity on their steps. Thick tree cover and mist blacked out all light, and only the eternal flames of Harry's magic worked to light the way for them all. Even sleep seemed to stay away from most of them as noises broke into their camp of creatures moving about out in the trees.

It was as they were continuing on their march on the third week that Harry finally made his way to the back of their single file line (to avoid anyone being accidentally pushed off the path) and addressed his favorite hobbit. "Bilbo, you told us in broad terms what happened to you in the bowels of the mountain, but as of yet you have not mentioned why your blade was bloody."

"I-It wasn't."

"I could smell it."

The hobbit looked down at his feet and was silent for several seconds as they continued on their march. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I think you need to. I've been watching you since that night and it has clearly been weighing on you." He placed a hand on the shorter being's shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. "We are of the same company, but more than that we are friends. I'm worried about you."

Bilbo sighed, and his eyes started to glisten with unshed tears. "I'd never killed someone before. Animals sure, I hunted with my mother, but not… not a thinking being."

"Tell me. Let it out."

"Everything happened like I said," He began to rush the words, as if afraid that mitigating his speed would convince him to shut down, "I fell into the deeps, met a creature that called itself Gollum, and tricked it with a riddle contest into showing me the way out. Except… that wasn't all that happened." The short man visibly struggled with himself before looking around rapidly and pulling a shiny object out of his pocket for the vampire to see. A small, unadorned ring of gold. "I found this when I fell. At the time I thought nothing of it and just pocketed it, but then, after Gollum told me the way out I heard him screaming about having lost his 'Precious'. I somehow knew he was talking about the ring, and something made me put it on in fright."

"What happened then?"

"I disappeared. Gollum was surprisingly fast for his size, and he caught up to me very quickly. The creature ran right past me, there was no way it should have missed me, and I thought I was free and I kept walking….. but then he stopped and cocked his head…."

When his little friend stopped his tale Harry placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. It seemed to do the trick as he began again.

"He cocked his head, one of his ears started to twitch, and then he began to… sniff the air. The next thing I knew he was screaming and running right at me, his hands out front to strangle me. I-I didn't even think, didn't tell my body to move. One second I was standing petrified against the tunnel wall, and the next my sword was in my hand, and it was buried all the way through Gollum's chest. He couldn't speak, but he stared right into my eyes as the light left his own. I've been… trying not to think about it, but my dreams…"

"It wasn't your fault, Bilbo. Not really. That creature sounds like it was pretty intent on taking your life. He wouldn't be reasoned with, and in the end it was you or him. Never feel guilty for choosing your own life in that situation." The vampire smiled warmly down at the Hobbit and added, "I for one am very glad you chose yourself. Without you to add your culinary expertise at camp I'd be forced to cook for these ravenous dwarves all alone." In spite of his former moroseness, Bilbo managed a light smile at those words. "It won't be easy to learn to live with what you did, but I promise that given enough time you will learn to. And I and the others will be there to talk and to help whenever you need us."

"Thank you, Harry."

Deciding that a change in topic was necessary, the wizard said, "No problem. So the ring is magical then?"

"Oh yes, I can't think of any other explanation for why it would turn me invisible when I wear it."

"But it doesn't seem to cancel out sound or smell."

"No indeed."

"Well, such a thing sounds incredibly useful for the work of a burglar. Keep it safe, and use it only when necessary would be my recommendation."

Bilbo raised an amused eyebrow, "Not when it would be perfect for pranks?"

"Oh well using it then goes without saying." Harry laughed lightly, an off-putting tone in the bleak atmosphere they all found themselves in. "But all the same, you should probably keep it secret from Gandalf. I can tell he means well, most of the time, but I'm not sure he'd leave a magic ring just lying around with whoever, ya know."

"Yes, I think you might be right." Bilbo closed his fingers over the ring and he moved to quickly place it back in his pocket. "I'm not sure I'd like him taking it from me just yet. It is becoming… precious, to me."

"I can see why. Now let's catch up to the others. It looks like they've stopped for some reason."

And indeed they had, with good reason. When the duo at the end of the line caught up with all the others they found the path cut off entirely before them by a raging stream no less than twenty feet wide. Far too great a distance for the average person, or dwarf, to jump. Furthermore there were no moored boats to row across the chasm, and nor were there even thick enough tree branches by the banks to tie ropes and swing across.

{Well this is one more mark against Thranduil to tell Galadriel about isn't it.} Luna stated in his head.

"Indeed. There is no way he can justify this mess and still claim to be doing his part to guard and protect the road through Mirkwood for travelers. No mortal person could cross this safely without leaving the road entirely to search the banks for a better crossing point. This seems done specifically to drive people off the path."

Thorin apparently was thinking the same thing as he made his way over. "Harry, can you do anything about this?"

"Of course." The wizard pointed his hand, palm down to the ground just before the waterway kicked off, and focused on what he wanted in his mind. Transfiguring the earth itself to meet his desires. As his company watched in awe a great silver bridge rose out of the ground, arched over the water, and touched down on the other side. "There we are, a nice easy path across. Plus, since it's transfigured instead of conjured, we can really slap the elves in the face with other travelers using it after us. Ha!"

"Ha!" The dwarves cheered after him and followed their taller friend across to continue on their way. Over the course of the next three days they ran into no less than three more brooks, and every time their resident wizard made another bridge.

It was as they broke their fast on the fourth day since the first bridge that a particular coin in Harry's pocket started to grow uncomfortably warm. This was his time release letting him know he had a few seconds to say his farewells before being pulled along to wherever Gandalf currently was.

"Thorin, my portkey is active." The dwarven prince groaned at the prospect of losing his brother, even if only for a little while, but he nevertheless said, "Be safe, brother. Fight as a god, and leave that necromancer filth begging for mercy."

Harry grinned, delighting in the way his fangs slid over his teeth. "I'll do better than that. Remember, stay on the path until I get back. If you run into another stream, brook, or other obstruction simply stay where you are and make camp. Your portkey will bring me right back to you when I'm done."

"Understood, be safe."

There was no time for further words as a moment later the vampire felt a tug on his navel before feeling as if his body was twisting through a tube and he disappeared from that dark and horrible fortress, only to reappear in an equally shadowed wood with a black keep in the distance and a quartet of insane power waiting for him.

Harry ignored Saruman, nodded to Gandalf, smiled at Elrond, and bowed in the most grandiose fashion he could think of to an eminently amused Galadriel. His back down a full ninety degrees, one leg bent behind the other, and one arm shot to the side as if he were splaying out a cape. "Milady Galadriel, you look absolutely divine in this lighting."

The lady chuckled happily into her sleeve and replied, "Oh Harry, you're such a flirt. What would my husband say?"

"If he was a man worth his salt he'd nod and agree with the statement."

"You're not too far off. He compliments me even more than Luna."

Harry blinked, "I didn't realize that was possible."

"Oh yes. In fact, when I returned to Lorien and he heard how Luna compared my posterior to the beauty of a star, Celeborn decided to compare my breasts to the majesty of a sunrise. I say, he has even begun writing me poetry again to compete with the fresh complements."

"Poetry? Alas, Luna and I are clearly outmatched in the arena of appreciating your beauty. Damn this Celeborn for his dastardly skill with a quill!" Harry proclaimed dramatically.

"Indeed."

Behind them, the other three finally managed to snap out of the trance the strange visage of Harry and Galadriel's dynamic created, and tried to get down to business. "Harry," Gandalf desperately tried to jolt such language from the Lady of Lorien from his mind, "before we begin the battle plan, can we ask about the path through Mirkwood?"

All joviality fled from the vampire's face and he literally hissed with annoyance. "It is worse than we feared. Everything about that path is designed specifically to destroy anyone's chances of making it through the forest." Thus he explained everything he had seen and learned about those issues up till his summoning that day. When he was done literally everyone present was swearing. Even the stoic and reserved Saruman.

When they finally calmed down it was Elrond who said, "Harry, originally we wished you to question Thranduil should you see him, but this changes things. Should you encounter him now, let him know that he has earned the wrath of the White Council. Should he not immediately return the paths to clear functionality there will be… repercussions. He will know what we mean." The others all nodded their agreement.

"Very well, I don't plan to outright seek him out, but if I see him I will pass on the message."

"You have our thanks, Darktide." Galadriel dipped her head to the young man, earning an embarrassed blush in the process. Then she turned the topic to the events at hand. She pointed at the keep in the distance. "That… is Dol Guldur. As Gandalf stated it was abandoned for a great many years, yet now we all can feel the evil radiating from its center. Mithrandir was right to bring us all together for this. That power is not one he could face on his own. What is more, we have observed many other worrying threats."

Elrond added his own finger, pointing to a place closer to the base of the structure, "A goblin and orc army is gathered here, ready to march. Based on extinguished fires I can see in the distance about a third of its force has already marched. We cannot allow the other two-thirds to escape."

Saruman did the same, "Shadows of life and death flit between the stones. Wraiths, spirits of the dead given physical form have answered the necromancers call."

{Spirits are sentient beings, Harry…} Luna purred in his mind.

"Can I even eat those? Wouldn't my jaw pass right through them?"

{You travelled through the world between worlds. You already touch the plane on which they exist. It is worth thinking about is all I'm saying.}

Out loud he said, "Seems like we have three targets here. How do you all want this handled?"

Elrond, the premier military tactician amongst them, voiced his thoughts. "The priority is the necromancer of course, but those wraiths are a problem all onto themselves. The army is a bit of a wildcard." He eyed the vampire, remembering what Gandalf had told them about the events under the mountains. "Master Potter, could you handle the army while we of the White Council handle the other threats?"

Harry eyed the skyline and then the trees before sitting down in a cross legged stance, folding his hands in front of him, and closing his eyes. "Give me five minutes."

"What?" Saruman couldn't believe it, "This is no time for a break, young man." He was stopped by Gandalf's hand on his shoulder.

"Young Master Harry does not take conflict lightly, and he is known as the Darktide for a reason. I suspect he is simply gathering his power before engaging a numerically superior force."

Galadriel was intrigued and copied the stance in front of her young human friend, watching, with eyes opened to the unseen world, the influx of power entering his body from the very night itself along with the way small tendrils of it seemed to branch off from his form into the darkness of the forest. It didn't take long to see where it was going as the silence around them slowly changed into the chirping of many, many, many bats. Soon enough the growls of wolf packs accompanied them.

Five minutes passed the mark and Harry reclaimed his feet. "I'm ready."

The wizard's staves began to glow with readied power. "So are we."

Elrond drew his sword, and Galadriel radiated power throughout her body. A literal sun contained within the bonds of flesh.

"Harry," she sweetly requested, "can you bring us forth to knock on the door?"

"But of course, my lady."

He placed his hands upon them as they locked their own, and a moment later they were standing against the front gates of Dol Guldur. Galadriel raised her hand, thunder crashed, and lightning destroyed the doors that blocked their way. Then Harry was off.

His bats rose high into the sky above the fortress, the vampire's mind shared amongst them all en masse, and when he finally saw the great bulk of the army in the breaks and crumbled ceilings into the ground, he dove. The goblins, well taught to fear the sound of bats in flight over the last decade, began to panic when they took note of the great colony of winged predators making their way toward them. Indeed, many weaker goblins even made to flee on instinct, until their orc captains screamed them back in line and ordered defensive lines to be drawn.

It was too late however. The vampire's hoard crashed into the earth, his bats spreading out in every direction, shredding and tearing where they would, causing utter chaos where they did not, and amongst them spun the random shape of a tall man and his black sword.

As the goblins shrieked with fear and terror Harry laughed in cold delight. His mind was everywhere and nowhere all at once amongst this great colony of his creatures, and where they flew his body could appear. Faster than thought he cut, slashed, appeared, and disappeared before anyone could react. His foes falling like wheat before the scythe, their screams forming a symphony in his mind. He was the wind, he was the blade, he was fear incarnate, he was death. And as he continued in his dark and glorious task something changed. He appeared before an orc captain, a rudimentary shield wall formed amongst his goblin underlings, and something stopped him short of appearing in the middle of their formation. Something old, hungry, and expectant.

Harry felt his gaze drawn to the great longsword in his hands and his eyes widened with curiosity as a small portion of his inherent magic seemed to flow steadily into the hilt though his palms, a silver sheen flowing over the edges of the blade as it did. The wizard was put in mind of what Elrond had told him once of the black blade, 'It was said that though ever black the blade remained, its edges shown with pale fire.' and a new thought came to his mind. What could an ancient elven blade do with the magic it was stealing from him?

Acting on pure instinct, Harry faced the goblin shield wall as carnage continued to rain down around him, took a wide stance, readied his blade behind him, and swung with the full power of his body. To his amazement and delight a wave of visible power followed the path of his sword, and the wall of enemies found themselves pounded with the force of a canon blast and sent flying into the distance. (Picture Sauron's mace in the beginning of Fellowship of the Ring).

The wizard glanced down at the blade once more and could have sworn it was purring at the chance to finally release its full might for the first time in thousands of years. "Brilliant, Gurthang, now let us dance."

And dance they did. Instead of flitting from place to place amongst his colony as he had been, Harry instead waltzed amongst the dying, sword singing in his hands, and waves of power following its path. Everywhere he turned Goblins shrieked and ran, every time Gurthang swung, foes fell by the dozens. On and on he went, only noticing the crashing of monstrous levels of power on the periphery of his vision to signify the other battles taking place until at last he swung and for once his black blade didn't finish its arc. The cursed elven steel meeting the resistance of something equally unnatural.

Within the haze of his bloodlust Harry grinned, allowing his fangs to extend out past his lips as he drew back his sword to face off against a large ghost with a long pointed crown on his head. It looked like Luna was going to get her theory tested after all. They didn't speak, there was no need, they simply stared at one another as all around them the army continued to die and then suddenly, they were moving. Swords clashing, fists snapping, and the very ground beneath their feet cracking beneath the sheer weight of so much power contained and expelled in such a concentrated area.

The fight, as brutal as it was, only lasted a few seconds. The wraith was confident, supremely so, and best of all, it had no idea what it was actually fighting. As it blocked another swing and locked their shoulders together to prevent any use of mortal's opposite arm, the spirit presented a target too sweet to pass up.

Like a cobra Harry struck, his teeth slamming into the specter's neck and sucking in the fluid on instinct. There was only time for one solid pull from the being before it let out an unearthly wail and faded into nothing, fleeing to the peace of death rather than continue fighting such a monster as the vampire.

For his part, Harry found himself locked in place as his body absorbed the ethereal fluid into itself.

{Ugh! Vodka!} Luna cringed, {And it's so cold!}

Harry could literally feel his body vibrating in place, and somehow, without Luna's input, he just knew what he'd stolen from the wraith. He focused on that shivering, on that feeling of cold and wrongness, and then it happened. All color leached away from his body, the world seemed to shift from the normal hues of life into a slightly off kilter version of itself, and he knew that he was seeing the world between worlds as Galadriel did. The goblins dying around him were shades of their former selves, but several forms above shone bright.

Eight shades were battling three forms of golden light. Two with staves of fire and a third with a sword. On a ledge next to them stood a light that eclipsed them all, standing tall and proud against a giant eye of crimson flame. (Wait was that a person in the iris? Thoughts for another time). In that moment the vampire decided he should probably get up there and help. He'd done his part, mostly. A good three fifths of the goblin army had already been destroyed, more were falling every second, and the rest were running for their lives. In this open space it was too much to hope to catch them all as he had in the mountain and mines, but you couldn't win everything. At the very least his wolves were working to pick off what stragglers they could, having snuck around the structure to attack from the rear.

Harry had just cast the spell that would allow him to fly to the aid of his comrades, his legs already cast in shadow and mist, when he saw something that decided his destination in an instant and made him launch right into the air. One of the wraiths was moving behind Galadriel.

Harry flew hard, crossing the expanse of height between them in an instant, but an instant was all it needed. The wraith struck, and with the grace and instincts of millennia the golden haired elf spun and blasted the abomination back into the nether-realm before it could harm her. At the same time the evil eye used the distraction his servant provided to launch out with a psychic attack to its foe.

Harry couldn't knock his friend out of the way, there wasn't time, but as fate would have it he was closer to the attack then he was her, and he'd dealt with psychic invasions before… he made a choice. Luna called him an idiot in that special way of hers. And he threw himself into the path of the full weight of the necromancer's psyche. It was powerful beyond words or measure, and it was all the black haired wizard could do to keep himself from passing out due to the sheer weight of the presence attacking him. He reacted with the only tactic that had ever worked against Snape when the bastard had tried the same thing. The moment the dark being touched his mind he stared right into the giant eye and screamed, "LEGILLIMENS!"

Several things happened at once in that moment. First, Harry breached the mind of perhaps one of the oldest beings he had ever encountered in his admittedly short life. The shear vastness of the mindscape before him was…. beyond words. Second, he started receiving visions for which he had no correlation or understanding. A white tree, a silver horse on a field of green, a great volcano in a desolate wasteland, and an…. elephant? Third, the great eye became aware of the invasion. Fourth, and last, the necromancer shrieked in unmitigated surprise and fear, and in an instant the presence, weight, and evil radiance it had provided was gone.

Harry closed his eyes, willed the power of the wraith back into the recesses of his mind, and when he opened them again he stood alone on the ledge with Galadriel supporting him by the arm. Only a sheer drop to the floor below faced them. The Necromancer had fled.

"You… you defeated Sauron." Never, if he grew to live a thousand years, would Harry have expected Galadriel to sound so shocked. Amused yes, angry sure, exasperated with him definitely, but never shocked. She must have seen the surprise on his face because she clarified, "Sauron the Deceiver was one of the greatest and most powerful servants of Morgoth before he was defeated. When that happened he took control of the dark legions and became an evil power unto himself. Even with all my centuries of power, experience, and training, I could only hope to fight him to a standstill while the others finished him off. Yet you scared him away."

"Hardly." Harry coughed lightly into his free hand as his powers worked to heal his mind from the strain it had just endured to keep him alive. He was honestly surprised his brain hadn't turned to jello. "That thing was on a whole other level. One I could never hope to defeat. But I've dealt with that kind of foe before, ones leagues above me, maybe I'll tell you about it someday. The thing about beings like that, they're confident. To an insane degree, and they cannot fathom the idea of anything being able to seriously strike back against their might. Yet 'I' survived a strike meant for you, 'I' slipped through his defenses, and 'I' entered his mind. The moment he found me there is the moment he left. You say I scared him, more like I surprised the hell out of him. Surprised him enough to wonder what else I was capable of and if it wouldn't be more advantageous to withdraw until he knew more." A sudden thought occurred to him then, "Did you just say that was Sauron? Isn't he supposed to be dead?"

A haunted look came over the beautiful woman's face and she replied, "We will speak of that later. For now, let us return to the others."

So back to the others they went, the wraiths dispatched or fled, and their eyes glued to the bloody churn that was the ground floor of the keep. The bats from before now joined by several packs of wolves, tearing into the goblin meat and hauling their meals off of the grounds for their master.

Harry smiled at the sight. "Dibs."

That got their attention. "Excuse me, sir?" Saruman exclaimed, the others following his lead to stare at the now recovered vampire. "I could have sworn I heard you say, dibs? What does that mean?"

"Right, old vernacular, sorry. Anyway, I was just laying claim to this keep." At the shocked gasps of his companions, he elaborated. "By your own admission this place was abandoned, the dark forces have been removed, and I was an integral part in that. What's more I also helped you all by verifying how bad the path through Mirkwood really is. I'm calling in the favor."

"No favor was offered!" Saruman groused.

Knowing no agreement would come from the white wizard, Harry looked to the others. "Galadriel?"

The Elven lady smiled happily and in a voice full of mirth now that the threat had been dealt with responded, "My own forest of Lorien is not so far from here. Only across the Anduin. It would be incredibly joyful to have you and Luna so close, and it would make it easier to visit for our magizoology expeditions. I see no issue with providing you a reward worthy of the service you've offered. But are you sure you wish a place as decrepit as this? There are better maintained fortresses in the land."

Harry waved off her concern, "My magic can turn this place around in no time. Only thing is that I'd need to wait until after my current quest is done to move in."

"You have my vote, Master Darktide.

Harry turned to the other elf present, "Elrond?" When the elf looked to the wizards and seemed to hesitate, the vampire added in a near sing-song voice, "Remember who saved your life."

Elrond slumped at the reminder and said, "True enough. Very well I vote yes. At least this place will see some good use for once."

"Gandalf?"

The grey wizard merely huffed and responded, "You have proven to be an effective deterrent against the forces of darkness, but I'd rather give you a place to defend and call your own than hear of you wandering around and causing chaos. (he ignored the ironically pointed looks in his direction at that statement). I too will vote to grant you this keep."

Clearly outnumbered again, and certainly not liking how common such an event was becoming, Saruman finally added his own acceptance.

"Fantastic." Harry clapped his hands. "I always wanted to be a homeowner. Sorry the place isn't up to code just yet. Anyway, I should get back to the guys. They're absolutely lost without me to keep Thorin from losing his sense of direction. "Tap your coins three times to go back where you came from." He bowed once more to Galadriel, "My lady."

"Farewell, Harry and Luna."

He turned to the other three men and waved cheekily, "Peace out dudes, Gandalf, you coming?" The old man walked over and placed his hand upon his arm. A second later they were gone to follow the link back to Thorin's coin.

So it was a very surprised pair that arrived in the middle of a group of trees. No dwarves, hobbits, or road in sight. A glint did catch their eyes though. Harry squatted down and picked something up. A gold coin. The one he'd tied to his brother's location.

The vampire stood back up, rage boiling in his blood. "Something drove them off the road." He growled. "It's the only explanation."

"What could it have been though?" Gandalf inquired.

Harry expanded his senses into the dark around him and in the distance, moving swiftly were the sounds of two groups. One was clearly elves, three of them to be precise, but the other… the skittering reminded him of his old friends from back in the cupboard under the stairs, but they were very large. "Gandalf, do giant spiders exist in this world?"