**I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings, if I did... Well I don't.

This is my first attempt at Fan Fiction in MANY years. I'd appreciate any feedback, as well as a Beta! I do make my husband read through my chapters, and he gives me plenty of advice, but he also has to be nice ;)

I hope you enjoy my story


Chapter 1: Norway's Welcome

Hermione met Kingsley at his office, her beaded bag hanging from her wrist. She had dressed for Norway. Although it was summer she wore a light jacket, a long sleeved shirt, lined jeans and knee-high sheepskin boots. She also had a Norwegian to English dictionary tucked under her arm, as well as various maps. She truly was the brightest witch of her age. Or of any age, rather.

"Are you ready? You shouldn't be gone more than a few days, however if you need to extend your trip just let me know." He gestured to a small model Viking ship on his desk. "Here's your portkey, it will take you directly to the Norwegian Ministry. From there the research assistant who was with the muggle team is waiting to take you to the site."

"And the muggles?" She asked, eyeing the ship and her watch, noting the time. "Are they just going to allow a British National to come and take over their site?"

"They've been obliviated and have been directed towards a more interesting dig site that our researchers have shown to be quite promising." He explained. "You shouldn't have any interference."

"Alright, well I best be off, I'd hate to keep them waiting. What is the assistant's name?" She asked, adjusting the items under her arm.

"Fillip. He has been very cooperative with us, he seems eager to be working with you." The Minister smiled. "But then again, I don't know many people who aren't eager to work with you, Ms. Granger."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Minister." She chuckled.

"Or everywhere, if you ask my lovely wife." His eyes twinkled. "Let's not keep our friends waiting." He gestured to the ship once more, his robes billowing with the movement.

Taking a deep breath she reached forward and placed her hand on the trinket only to feel herself being pulled through a tube before noticing the world spinning around her.

The deep green and brown of the Minister's office changed around her to a rich forest green, with hints of the bright blue of fresh water. The familiar tug of magic warned her that she would be landing soon and to let go, bracing herself to roll into the descent.

As she landed on her knees she looked up to see mountains taller than she'd ever seen, and a bright blue river flowing between them. The air smelled crisp and clean and she found herself taking a moment to enjoy the sight before her. She heard a small 'ahem' from behind her and turned to see a small group of people waiting. One was an older woman, her hair in a large braided bun atop her head, with a wand seemingly holding it in place. She wore a sensible pant suit, white pants with a yellow top, and a brilliant smile to match. The gentleman to her right was much older than her; she'd have to guess closer to McGonagall's age. He wore billowing robes of a majestic blue and purple, trimmed with white. He seemed to mirror the mountain ranges around them, and his long beard and walking stick gave him an air of majesty.

The third, she assumed, must have been Fillip, as he seemed to be barely holding in his excitement as the sandy-haired young man waved at her, a beaming grin on his face.

"Welcome, Ms. Granger." The woman stepped forward. "My name is Maiken, I'm head of our Runes department. " She offered Hermione a hand, helping her stand before the trio.

"This is our Minister for Magic." She gestured to the elderly man before her. "Gjurd Bengtsson."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear." He smiled, bowing slightly. "We have heard many tales of your heroism. True Gryffindor courage, I believe."

"I do believe you are correct, Minister. It is an honor to be invited to work alongside you. I am curious to see the Runes." She smiled, placing her dictionary in her bag, as their English was quite fluent and she doubted she'd need it whilst working with them.

"We'll be heading there this afternoon, first we just need to get your paperwork in order." Maiken smiled, offering her arm to Hermione. "Shall we?"

The young witch nodded, looping her arm through Maiken's offered and felt herself apparating. The sensation, especially so quickly after having travelled by portkey, was enough to make her head spin. She stabled herself to take in her new surroundings. Again.

This country offered more beauty than she expected. The nature was marvelous, but their architecture was another entirely. A mix of ancient Viking carvings and Modern glass design surrounded her and Hermione could do nothing except marvel at the sight. She had only ever seen photos of the Det Norske Magidepartementet in Trondheim, but to see it in person is another thing, entirely. The paneled glass above her was arranged in an intricate pattern of diamond shaped pieces, all angled slightly to reflect against what appeared to be the bottom of a Viking long ship, much like her portkey. The illusion created could only be likened to that of moving water reflecting against a surface. Runes were etched into the glass, or along the exposed wooden beams, many Hermione recognized as protection runes. Others, however, were unfamiliar to her.

Before she could ask Maiken had produced a few leaflets of parchment from her pocket. "I took the liberty of translating our Runes for you; many of them are unique to our land."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh thank you! I was just about to ask what some of these were." She scanned the pages, briefly. "This is wonderful."

The elder patted the younger woman's hand fondly, as it was still laid against the crook of her elbow. "Anything for the passing of knowledge from one generation to the next."

They continued on through the halls and corridors, as they made their way to the Rune Translation Wing, which lead them outside, along a grassy ramp, and into an ancient looking wooden building, which, to the young Brit, looked like the underside of an upside-down ship. Inside the walls were lined with books and shelves, framed windows overlooked the rest of the Ministry grounds. The interior Hermione likened more to an ancient hunting lodge or mead hall, rather than an office.

The floors were lined with furs, rather than carpets, and at the center of the main hall were two in floor fire pits, with floating tea kettles dotted above the coals. There were raised alcoves, on either side, near windows but far enough away that the fire would not impede any research with its heat. The tables at each station looked worn and ancient, with runes carved into the legs.

In fact, she noticed, there were Runes carved into everything around her. The window frames, the book shelves, even the lining beams of the fire pits.

"Welcome to my sanctuary." Maiken smiled. "This is where we have studied the Runes of our Lands for a thousand years, and hopefully a thousand more."

"This is wonderful!" The brunette beamed, taking it all in.

The group made their way to Maiken's office. A warm room, with plenty of seating and bookshelves to spare, overlooked a fjord unlike anything Hermione had seen before.

The paperwork was the typical forms the young witch was expecting. Non-Disclosure, Upholding the Statutes of Secrecy, Injury Liability and Non-Liability. The norm.

Her excitement and curiosity were beginning to boil over as she found herself drumming her fingers as Maiken signed the same forms before handing them over to Gjurd. He pulled a pair of half-moon spectacles from his robes and Hermione couldn't help but smiling fondly. He reminded her of Dumbledore, and she missed her former headmaster.

"Well," He finally spoke. "It appears everything is in order. Fillip here will take you to the site. So as not to draw too much attention you'll be travelling by helicopter, if that is alright?"

She nodded enthusiastically. Helicopter. Airplane. Hippogriff. She didn't care how she arrived there, she was simply anxious to begin. The longer she was here the more her mind began to unload question after question onto herself.

How old could these Runes be, to be unidentifiable?

Are they even Runes?

How will we be able to translate them, if we can't identify them?

Following her hosts Hermione found herself out on a large landing pad, a helicopter already prepped, blades spinning. Fillip magicked some cases to himself, shrinking them down to fit in Hermione's beaded bag. "We'll need these!" He shouted over the thump-thump-thump of the blades.

Nodding her thanks to the elder officials who would be staying behind she turned and had to will herself not to run to the plane with sheer joy. Once aboard the craft and buckled, Hermione couldn't help but giggle slightly as the helicopter lifted off the landing pad, turning slightly away from the building and heading towards the mountains. She thought she'd go deaf if Fillip hadn't handed her a headset.

"Better?" He asked; his voice garbled slightly through the mic.

She nodded. "Much. How far away is the excavation site?"

"About 50 miles or so, as the crow flies. Trollheimen Park is vast, and luckily we have been granted aerial access by the Muggle government. Since this is a national park they tend to be very picky about who, and what, can fly over."

"Understandable. So tell me more about this site." Hermione turned towards the young man as he pulled a tablet from his jacket.

"We found what appeared to be a small cave dwelling on the western edge of Gråsjøen Lake. We assumed it must have served as a remote hunting or fishing site for one of the known villages. But we still went ahead to check. Upon seeing these Runes, however, I knew that I needed to get the Muggles out of there." He pulled up some images and her eyes grew wider witch each one. She'd never seen anything like these.

"I had the same reaction." He smiled at her. "I knew the muggles were out of their league, I believe that Maiken simply obliviated them after they attempted to translate them on their own, many times, and failed many times."

"Scientists and Researchers can be very stubborn, regardless of Muggle of Magical." She smiled back. "You should know that."

He nodded. "I do, we managed to locate another interesting site for them to research, so I am grateful they'll still have that."

The statement made Hermione glad. Many witches and wizards would simply obliviated and then leave, not offering any sort of closure to their victims.

"We'll be there in about 15 minutes, and then we'll have to portkey again the rest of the way there. I know it isn't the best method of travel, especially twice in a day." Fillip shrugged meekly. "However, we can't exactly take a cab."

"I understand." She nodded. She knew that more likely than not she'd be sick after the next apparation.

The rest of the helicopter ride went smoothly, Fillip eagerly showing Hermione the pictures he had taken of the site before it was cordoned off. The structure of the cave had her guessing that this was more than just a hunting site. There were benches and shelving carved out of the rock and there were wooden beams serving as supports, similar to what you would see in mines. The runes were etched on all walls, in massive stanzas. The same etchings seemed to be repeating themselves. She attempted to zoom in on the pictures using the tablet, however, the quality of the image waned and she ended up more frustrated.

"I guess I'll just have to wait until we arrive, I can't enlarge these images anymore." She turned back to the young man who had been rereading his notes. "Did you feel anything when you interacted with the runes?"

He shook his head. "I didn't do anything with those runes. I didn't touch em; I didn't try to get close to em. I took the pictures and then got us out."

"But-" She began, but suddenly the captain's voice was in her ear.

"Vi er på landingssonen." His voice crackled and she looked back at Fillip with a cocked eyebrow.

"Is that good?" She asked.

His laughter surprised her.

"We are at the landing zone, so yes." He smiled at her. "That's good."

Hermione looked out the viewport of the her window to see greenery creeping its way up the purple-gray stone faces of the mountains on either side of a sparkling lake, its waters lapping gently at the shore under the push of the aircraft. She could barely make out the outlines of structures along the shoreline opposite of them, which was good, in her mind. Less chance of having to explain anything to more muggles, the better off this expedition will go.

Disembarking the helicopter and watching it fly off allowed Hermione to take in her surroundings. The slight ripple against the shore allowed the stony beach to shimmer under the sunlight. Green hills butted up to the towering mountains around her and she found herself smiling at the scenery.

Then she found herself laughing.

Fillip looked at the witch in confusion. There didn't seem to be anything comical around them, and he couldn't figure out what was so humorous.

"Ms. Granger, are you alright?" He asked.

She nodded, tears threatening to blur her vision.

"It's just… some friends of mine thought that I'd be in danger on this expedition!" She was gasping at this point. "Here! In the mountains! What am I in danger from? A steep hill?!"

The Nord smiled at her. "I'd still keep an eye on the hills. There's old magic in these mountains."

It took the young woman a minute to right herself, the raucous laughter had left the smile on her face, and she couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so heartily about something so simple.

"Are you ready?" He asked, pointing towards the southern tip of the lake. "We'll be heading in that direction. You'll want to hold tight, the terrain we'll have to portkey to is not very stable, and I don't want to risk you dropping off the cliff while I stay grounded."

"That sounds fair. I'm ready whenever you are." She nodded. He extended his arm out, wrapping it around her shoulders and pulling the witch close. He pulled out a small stone with an etching on it from his pocket.

"If you could, please?" He held it out to her. "Squib, and all."

She smiled, tapping the stone with her wand and muttering the spell. Since she hadn't been to the location she had to reach her wand up to his temple and pull a wispy memory from his mind. She watched as the sting of light encircled the stone before disappearing.

"Here we go." And the all familiar sensation of being sucked through a straw surrounded her. She'd definitely be sick when they landed. Her vision blurred around her and her senses were rattled. She could barely focus on Fillip's presence, let alone that he was attempting to steady her.

When she felt firm ground beneath her feet her eyes hadn't caught up with the change in gravity and her stomach paid the price. She turned away from Fillip, embarrassed. She was surprised when she felt him pull her hair back from her face, securing the wild bun with a pen from his pocket.

"Too much for one day?" He asked sheepishly, rubbing her shoulder. "Sorry, we should have planned for that. The magical community here uses this form of transportation every day. I suppose we are used to it."

She nodded. "I'll be fine, really. I just need to rest a minute."

"Of course." He sat beside her, fishing out a few bags of snacks he had stowed away in his pack. "Here."

She looked over and saw a small bag of chocolate covered pretzels. "Eat, you'll feel better."

She smiled fondly at the words, a favorite saying of a dear friend.

"Words of wisdom." She replied, taking the bag. "Thank you, Fillip."

They ate in silence, the sweet and salty snack settling Hermione's churning stomach. The view further up the mountainside was breathtaking, unlike anything she'd ever seen. You could make out the shadows of the clouds moving over the rolling hills and the breeze blowing ripples through the brush. The jagged edges of rocks contrasted the lush greenery, reminding her of the architecture of the ministry buildings.

"Fillip how did you know that the Runes were magical?" She asked, turning to her companion. "There's nothing in the pictures to indicate any sign."

He shrugged, chewing the rest of his snack before replying. "It wasn't so much as I knew they were magical, but I could feel them. Once I realized the others weren't feeling them I figured it was wise for us to leave."

She nodded. "Probably for the best. If they are any sort of muggle-repelling ancient wards it could have ended much worse than scrambled memories."

"My thoughts exactly. I was surprised, however, that I could feel them at all. Being a squib, you become accustomed to the … differences, I suppose, in how magic reacts to you. So to feel such powerful magic I knew that this was not something to take lightly."

"You have very good instincts, Fillip." Hermione smiled. "Let me know if you ever want to come to Britain to study Runes. We have a marvelous internship program."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Open to squibs?"

She nodded. "Open to all members of the magical community. We had a centaur last year. She was sweet."

"I might have to take you up on that. But for now, should we head out? Are you feeling better?" He stood, brushing the crumbs off himself before offering his hand.

Hermione took his hand, pulling herself up. She could see the opening of the cave, maybe a ten minute trek up the hillside along a winding trail that hugged the incline. She was glad that her Muggle upbringing ensured that she had worn proper attire. Her hiking boots supported her well; there was no room for the delay that a rolled or twisted ankle could cost. Witch or not, an injury takes up time.

Keeping close enough to Fillip as they began their ascent her mind wandered to why any ancient peoples would have a cave this high. It could have been a place of great spiritual significance, or perhaps an isolated prison. No, a prison wouldn't make sense; the Nords didn't use the sort of psychological torture that an isolated prison would instill. She kept thinking back to a place of worship, perhaps a place for the elders to commune with the Gods. Often times the elders or shamans of many cultures would carve meaningful runes and symbols into their temples, as a way to mark their worth. If this was, indeed, holy ground it would be logical to assume that's what these markings are.

But, Hermione thought, that still leaves the question, where did this magic come from?

She would soon get her answer, as she looked up she realized that her train of thought had led her to an important question, and that her feet had already deposited her at the mouth of the cave.

Fillip's description of being able to feel the magic was surprisingly accurate. The slight throb of energy poured of the cave in waves, washing over Hermione.

"Oh my goodness." She whispered before heading into the cavern, past Fillip. "I didn't think it would be this strong."

"I'm glad it wasn't only me!" He smiled at the witch in front of him. "To be honest I've had dreams of this place ever since it happened. Something calling me, something more than energy or magic."

Hermione nodded. "That's very common with Ancient Runes, especially if they haven't been seen for centuries. They yearn for contact. To be witnessed. Runes want to share their magic however they can."

As they came into the main cavern Hermione's eyes lit up at the scene before her. The walls were practically glowing with magic, the carvings lighting the expanse of the cave. The same stanza repeated on all sides of the cave, the same as in the picture.

"Could you be a prayer?" She whispered to herself, inching closer to the runes while digging for gloves in her beaded bag. "Or maybe a song?"

As she slipped the fabric over her hands she began measuring the runes above her, getting accurate dimensions to give scale to the photographs. Fillip stood behind her, getting pictures for posterity's sake.

"Fillip, please note that the two carvings on the North and South walls seem to be about 1.2 metres by 54 centimetres. The etchings are roughly 3 centimetres deep. These are phenomenally well preserved." Hermione glanced around the cave, noting that there was no additional evidence to show that they weren't the first occupants of this cave for some time now.

"We have samples currently out at a muggle lab in Oslo for some carbon dating to accurately date some of the carved benches in comparison with samples taken from the floor." Fillip explained. "We should have the results back any day now, but based on magical aging spells, these seem to be about eleven hundred years old."

"So about as old as Hogwarts." She mused, staring at the etchings. "This is amazing and appalling all at once."

"Appalling?" Fillip cocked his eyebrow as he looked at her.

She nodded. "Mhmm… because I have no idea what these say." She stepped forward, getting as close as she dared. "I've studied Runes of every language, culture and era. Magical and Muggle. But these… these are an unknown."

Hermione smiled at the lettering as she ran her gloved finger over the edge of the bottom line. "What do you say; care to tell me what you mean?"

As she ran her hand along the etching she immediately knew she had made a mistake. Her magic felt as though it was exploding from her skin. Thinking quickly she turned to the young man who was watching her with a concerned look.

"Document this." She stated; her voice straining. "Then back to the ministry, find Maiken!" She screamed the last sentence as she felt herself engulfed in flames, though she could not feel the heat. This pain was from her magic, not whatever was happening around her. The cave around her began to fade, the flames growing higher and higher until they completely obscured her vision. She clutched her beaded bag to her chest, whatever was happening to her she could not lose that bag.

Her magic boiled, writhing within her like a geyser waiting to erupt. She could feel her power coursing through her, trying to escape. The flames became brighter and more intense, crackling around her. She could no longer see Fillip and trying to call for him was useless, she couldn't even hear herself.

What is happening? She thought to herself. The pain was quickly overwhelming her senses, and for once Hermione couldn't think logically.

Her last thought to cross her mind was Harry and Ron waiting for her owl that wouldn't come.