Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings. Never have, never will. On that happy note…

Chapter 5: Ringwraith Encounters

The next afternoon, the eight companions could be found plunging deeper and deeper into the heart of the wilderness outside of Bree. Aragorn had already decided that they would not take the Road; it would most likely be watched.

It was a smart plan, but it meant a slow, tiring, and rather boring journey. Although no one tried to show it, only Aragorn wasn't exhausted. They stopped for a quick lunch and then moved on. Pippin wasn't too happy about this. As a hobbit, he never went a day without at least two breakfasts. But Aragorn was firm. He threw them each an apple, but that was it. As far as he was concerned, they had to get used to not eating every five minutes. Their danger was far from over.

Fred and George had been eager to go, but several very uneventful hours later, they were getting extremely bored. They stayed close to Merry and Pippin, who were like their hobbit alter-egos, but there didn't seem to be anything to be afraid of. It was like the events of last night had been some sort of freakish nightmare, except that the twins had seen the proof when they came into the bedroom and saw the remains of the Exploding Pillows.

Harry and Sam were sticking close to Frodo, who seemed lost in thought. Sam was leading their beast of burden, a tired old pony named Bill. Surprisingly, they got it from none other than Bill Ferny himself. No doubt he thought it would only slow down their journey. So just in case, Fred and George managed to get another horse from Mr. Butterbur, a palominonamed Celer,which Harry lead now.But although he looked like he'd been half-starved, Bill had proved to be an excellent pony, as he willingly carried as many packs as he could on his back and following the companions wherever they went.

After a few days of walking through fields and wooded areas, the group has to cross the Midgewater Marshes. It was slow going because of the wet and wild terrain, as well as the mosquitoes, or midges, constantly biting them. Harry tried warding them off with his wand, but there were simply too many.

It was better at night though, and Aragorn went out and hunted a stag for them to eat. It was a delicious meal despite the circumstances. Feeling full and sleepy, Harry, the hobbits, and the twins lay down to sleep while Aragorn kept watch. Harry was just drifting off when he heard a low voice singing in some strange language. It was beautiful; Harry found himself mesmerized as he listened to it.

"Who is she?" asked Frodo suddenly. Harry nearly jumped in surprise. He looked to up to find Frodo staring at Aragorn. With a shock he realized it was the ranger who had been singing.

"It is the Lay of Luthien," Aragorn was saying to Frodo.

"Who's Luthien?" asked Harry, "And what language was that?"

"That was Sindarin, a form of Elvish," said Aragorn, "Luthien was an elven princess who gave her love to Beren, a mortal man, long ago."

"What happened to her?" asked Frodo.

"She died," he replied simply, though he sounded a little upset.

"What's the matter?" asked Harry.

"It's nothing," said Aragorn quickly, "Get some sleep, both of you." He turned his back to them and stared straight ahead as if nothing had happened. Harry rolled over and tried to get some sleep, wondering all the while about the mysterious man sitting nearby.

After about a week, the eight of them finally made it to a hill called Weathertop. It was a huge place, with the ruins of some old watchtower sticking out of it here and there. Aragorn lead them to an inlet along the hillside and announced that they would rest there for the night. He handed them all swords. "Keep these close," he said, "I'm going to go have a look around. Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Fred, George, you stay here. Harry, could you come with me?"

"Sure," said Harry, and he got up and followed Aragorn.

They walked along a narrow path that lead to the other side of the hill. "Where are we going?" asked Harry.

"I'm looking for a sign to see if Gandalf was here," he replied, "And I wanted to talk to you."

Harry stared at him. "What for?"

"Well," said Aragorn, "That night in Bree, you asked me who I was, and now I want to know who you are. Gandalf only told me a little, and Fred and George mainly talked about their own misadventures. But is it true that you once defeated an evil sorcerer?"

"Yes," Harry muttered, "But I was only a baby at the time, and my parents died in the process. The only reason why I survived was because my mother died to save me, and it acted as a countercharm. When this sorcerer, Voldemort, tried to kill me, his curse rebounded off of me onto him, giving me this scar on my forehead, and he got stripped of his powers. But he didn't die. He's still alive, and last year he used some of my blood to regain his body-long story-and he's tried to kill me countless times and I keep barely escaping. But he still hunts me; he's never given me a break." Just bringing it up made Harry miserable.

Aragorn was staring at him with nothing but deepest sympathy in his eyes. "I'm sorry Harry," he said, "I didn't know."

"It's ok," sighed Harry, "It's actually kind of nice to meet someone who doesn't know who I am. Everyone in my world used to think I was this big hero, always staring at my scar and pointing. It was annoying. But then when I tried to tell them that Voldemort got his body back, they all thought I was mad. Now nearly everyone thinks I'm a dangerous lunatic."

"You know," said Aragorn quietly, "You and I have a lot in common."

"I'll say!" roared Harry, "Everyone practically flees you, even though you're the one protecting them! How do you do it? How do you keep it in? I can't stand it when people say I'm lying; I practically explode in their faces!"

"I know," said Aragorn sadly, "It must be terribly difficult for someone as young as you to go through so much. For me, I'm so used to it I hardly care. My life has always been about anonymity, mostly because, like you, I also feel hunted."

"Why?" asked Harry. He was certain there was something the ranger wasn't telling him. Perhaps he would finally open up.

Aragorn sighed and thought for a moment. Part of him was dying to tell Harry his secret; his heart told him that this boy, of all people, would understand. But it was so much more complicated then that. Aragorn was not exactly thrilled with his destiny. He never told anyone about it if he could help it. "Let's just say that I could hardly be called a friend of Sauron's," he said finally, "Anyone who openly defies the Enemy is automatically hunted."

Harry knew there was more to it then that, but once again, he didn't push it.

Night had fallen by now, and the two were still walking silently around the hill, searching for any sign of Gandalf. So far there search proved useless. Then they heard a shriek on the other side of the hill. Harry would know that shriek anywhere. "Oh no," he gasped.

"The Ringwraiths! They've found us!" cried Aragorn, and he raced off, Harry struggling to keep up.


While Aragorn and Harry were gone, Fred, George, and the hobbits had settled down and made camp. Frodo was so tired between the weight of the Ring and the long journey that he lay down and promptly fell asleep. Sam took out his pots and pans and muttered something about preparing dinner. Fred, George, Merry, and Pippin took it upon themselves to be the entertainers.

"So what do you do when you're not eating, drinking, or pranking?" asked George.

The hobbits thought for a minute. "We sing and dance sometimes when we're at the Green Dragon," said Pippin.

"Really? What type of songs?" asked Fred.

"Drinking songs of course!" said Merry, "That's all anyone sings at a pub like the Green Dragon!"

"You mean like songs about beer?" asked Fred.

"Yeah! Do you know any?" asked Pippin.

"The only one we know is that one we heard about from those American Muggle-borns we met at the Quidditch World Cup. Remember Fred?"

"Oh yeah," said Fred, "Strange lot."

"Yeah, but those kids knew some of the world's greatest annoying song! Remember?"

"Yeah! You mean like that one, 'I Know A Song That Gets On Everybody's Nerves'?"

"Yeah, but the one I'm thinking about is that one called '99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall'."

"I love it already!" said Pippin.

Fred was laughing. "That was the best song EVER!" he said, "Remember how we wouldn't stop singing it after the Cup?"

"Everyone hated us!" said George gleefully.

"How does it go?" asked Merry.

"It's quite simple," said Fred, "It goes like this:

99 bottles of beer on the wall

99 bottles of beer

You take one down and pass it around

98 bottles of beer on the wall!"

"You see?" said George, "It goes on and on like that, until you get to 1! Isn't that just the most annoying thing you could ever hope to sing?"

"It sounds…beautiful," said Merry.

"It sounds…annoying," said Pippin.

"IT'S PERFECT!" they shouted. And all four of them were off. They got down to 45, getting louder and louder, when Sam shouted that dinner was ready. Already he had decided that he despised that song with all his being.

By about this time, Frodo woke up, mainly due to the noise of the song, but also to the smell of bacon. He leapt up. "What are you doing!" he cried in horror.

"Cooking tomatoes and some nice crispy bacon!" said Merry.

"We saved some for you Mr. Frodo," said Sam. Actually he practically had to guard Frodo's share from the four hungry boys.

But Frodo wasn't interested in food. He was stamping out the fire. "Put it out you fools!" he yelled.

"Relax, Frodo!" said Fred, trying to protect his food. Before they could start fighting however, a familiar shriek filled the air. They all looked down to see five Ringwraiths headed towards Weathertop.Bill and Celer squealed in terror.

"Run!" yelled Frodo. Nobody hesitated, but scrambled along a path and up some old worn stairs to the top of the hill. There the hobbits went back to back in the center with their swords drawn, while Fred and George were trying to shield them from all sides.

Then they came. Swiftly, but silently, the wraiths crept up the top of the hill and made towards the six friends. Fred and George made to block them.

"Hello," said Fred as cheerfully as possible, "Did you come back for more pillows?"

It took about five seconds for the wraiths to realize what he was saying. When they did, they howled with anger and drew their swords.

"I don't think they liked them Fred," said George.

Fred pretended to look crestfallen. "But…but…we spent three months on those! Are you saying they don't appreciate our hard effo…uh-oh!"

Two wraiths grabbed the twins and slammed them against the rocks, leaving them temporarily senseless.

Sam leapt forward and screamed, "Back you devils!" but ended up landing near his friends. Merry and Pippin were pushed aside, and then the wraiths made for Frodo. Frodo tried to desperately back away, but he had another problem. He was getting an irresistible urge to put on the Ring. As he backed away and fell, he found himself pulling it out and placing it on his finger. What he saw next terrified him.

The wraiths were transformed. They no longer were wearing black hooded cloaks, but were dressed in white robes. Their whole bodies were a blinding white, yet they had wizened old faces that seemed screwed up in torment. The Ring showed the riders for what they truly were: the shadows of great kings of old, tricked by Sauron to become his slaves forever.

The leader reached out to take the Ring from Frodo, but he pulled it back, so the wraith stabbed him in the shoulder. Frodo screamed in pain and managed to pull off the Ring.

At that moment Harry and Aragorn came flying up out of nowhere. Aragorn brandished a torch and hit the wraiths with it. They were shrieking in terror.

"Incendio!" screamed Harry, hitting one that was about to stab Aragorn. "Expecto Patronum!" he cried, and a large silver stag leaped out, chasing most of the wraiths off, except for one,who was cautiously making his way towards Frodo.

Aragorn heard it. In one quick motion he whipped around and flung the torch straight into the Ringwraith. It screamed and fled.

"Strider!" cried Sam. He, Merry, and Pippin were gathered around Frodo, who was moaning in pain.

"What happened!" asked Harry frantically.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade," said Aragorn.

"It's all our fault!" groaned Fred, "We should've protected him."

"It wasn't your fault," said Merry comfortingly, "There was nothing any of us could do."

Aragorn picked up Frodo. "This is beyond my skill to heal; he needs elvish medicine! Hurry!"

They ran as fast as they could. It was still six days from Rivendell, and Frodo was fading fast. They ran all night until they got to a little grove where they decided to rest. Fred and George were surprised to see the three stone statues of trolls there.

"It's Mr. Bilbo's trolls!" said Sam.

"The ones that Gandalf fooled?" asked Harry in amazement.

"What are you talking about?" asked George.

Harry related the story to them. The twins would normally have found it very funny, if they hadn't been so worried about Frodo. Aragorn had told them that the poison in the blade would soon turn him into a wraith.

The ranger was now standing guard as usual, thinking hard. Then he had an idea. "Sam," he asked, "Do you know what athelas is?"

Sam did. It was a healing herb that might help them slow the poison. Harry vaguely thought he might've heard about it in Potions once. It was supposed to be very rare.

Aragorn proceeded to go on a desperate search for the plant. He hadn't been gone for long when he returned, but he wasn't alone.

A bright white light seemed to fill the whole woods. Someone rode in on a white horse. When the glare died down, they saw the rider was a beautiful woman with long, flowing brown hair and piercing blue eyes. What was most noticeable about her, however, was her pointed ears.

"She's an elf," said Sam breathlessly.

"She's beautiful!" said Fred. George didn't say anything. He had started to drool.

The elf had bent over Frodo and was muttering something in what Harry realized must be Elvish. Aragorn hurried to her side and started applying athelas to the wound.

"He's not going to last," the woman was saying, "We must get him to my father." She picked Frodo up and put him on her horse.

"Uh, Aragorn, mate, who's that?" asked Fred in a strangled voice.

Aragorn looked at the stunned looks on the twins' faces, smiled, and said, "This is Arwen. Arwen, this is Harry Potter, Fred and George Weasley, Sam Gamgee, Merry Brandybuck, and Pippin Took."

Arwen smiled in greeting, then her eyes widened as she saw the young wizards. She muttered something to Aragorn in Elvish, and he nodded slowly.

They then turned to the horse and started talking rapidly in Elvish. It sounded like an argument to Harry, although he couldn't tell for sure.

"What's the matter?" he asked them.

"Arwen wants to take Frodo on her horse to Rivendell. I can't let her do it; the wraiths are still out there; it's too dangerous," said Aragorn.

"I do not fear them," replied Arwen.

Harry stared at the horse for a few seconds, and then turned to the others. If only there was some way to distract the Ringwraiths while Arwen and Frodo fled for Rivendell. But there was no way they could fool the Nazgul, no way at all. Unless…

Harry turned to Aragorn and Arwen. This was the craziest plan he had ever come up with, but it might work. "I have an idea," he said. "I'll take Celer and a makeshift hobbit decoy and ride away in the opposite direction. I'm hoping the wraiths will see me and come after me. They'll never notice Arwen and Frodo, and the rest of you can escape!"

"That is mad!" said Aragorn.

"Maybe, but I've done plenty of mad and dangerous things before," said Harry, "I'm sure this'll be no different."

"It might work," said Arwen. She fully believed that Harry would be fine against the Nazgul; she knew well about all the dangers he'd faced before.

"All right," said Aragorn, giving in rather easily. "But be careful!"

"I'll try my best," said Harry. With that he began untying Celer's reins from a nearby tree. The others immediately began taking out some spare clothes and stuffing them with everything they could find. Soon they were all ready.

"Ride hard," said Aragorn.

Harry urged the horse forward, and it galloped off into the dawn.

For a while, he met nothing, and began to think this was a waste of time. Then he heard the tell-tale shriek of the Ringwraiths. Sure enough, there they were, all nine of them, galloping towards him at top speed. Harry pulled harder on the reins, willing Celer to go faster. But the Nine had raced ahead and started to cut him off. Harry desperately zigzagged the horse in every direction he could think of, but it was soon too late. The Nazgul surrounded him. Then one charged forward and knocked Celer down. As the horse struggled to get up, two wraiths seized Harry and pinned him down. Another picked up the decoy.

Harry held his breath, waiting to see what would happen next. The wraith pulled off the hood to seize the Ring around what he thought was Frodo's neck and found…nothing but one of the packs of food!

The Ringwraiths shrieked in anger. The leader raised his sword and pointed it at Harry. "Where is the Halfling boy?" he hissed in anger.

"I don't know," said Harry.

"Don't lie!" snarled the wraith, "I assure you, the Dark Lord does not take kindly to liars!"

"Well, technically, I'm not lying," said Harry, a lot more bravely than he felt at the moment, "He'll be long gone by now; I just lured you all away from him. I can't believe you were stupid enough to fall for that trick!"

The wraith hissed angrily, raised his sword to kill Harry, and then suddenly stopped. He turned to the others. "If he speaks the truth, then that must mean they're headed for the elven stronghold," he said, saying elven as if it were a particularly nasty swear word. "We have to get the Ring now!" he said. "Leave the boy. We'll be back for you later, maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday, you mark my words," he said fiercely to Harry. And they all rode off.

Harry was mentally kicking himself. He couldn't believe how stupid he'd been to accidentally tell them wear Arwen was. If they got caught it was his fault. He could think of nothing else to do but jump on Celer and chase after the wraiths.

But the Nazgul were too fast. By the time he managed to follow their fading trail to what Aragorn had said was called the Fords of Bruien, the wraiths were already halfway across the river. Soon they would be in Rivendell. That's when something extraordinary happened. The river began to rise. Then out of nowhere came a huge wave in the shape of horses, rearing and plunging. The Ringwraiths let out a final scream before vanishing under the water.

It was all well and good for Frodo and Arwen, but it left Harry standing on the other side of the river with absolutely no way of getting across. That is, until an elf came out from the trees.

"Come," he called out, "There is a bridge over there," he added, pointing a few yards down.

Harry rode across and headed for the elf, who directed him to the gates of the great elven city. He rode in and saw steps that lead to the main building of a vast, but beautiful city. Descending the steps was yet another elf with long brown hair like Arwen's, and wearing flowing robes rich in many different colors. "Hello Harry," he said, smiling, "My name is Lord Elrond. Welcome to Rivendell."

Harry was stunned by the majestic beauty of the place, but it wasn't the time for a tour. Elrond took his arm. "Follow me," he said, "There's someone you need to see."

Frodo thought Harry. He hoped the little hobbit was all right. But he must be awake if Elrond was taking him to see him. Who else could possibly want to see him, Harry?

He was dead wrong.

A/N: About "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall". Well, I must confess, I love that song, and I knew it was the type of song Fred and George would sing. Its main purpose was comic relief, but I'm starting to worry that it might've been too random. I have no idea who invented that song, or when they did, so the twins technically could've picked it up at the World Cup. Also, I know all the horses fled Bree when the riders came, but I had to throw Celer in their in order to do the decoy maneuver.

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