A/N: I genuinely worry about myself sometimes.

Any Port in a Storm

Harry whistled a jaunty tune as he made his way along the Westward road from Rivendell. Behind him, a small coterie of Elves followed and it seemed as if they were intentionally trying to stay just far enough away that they couldn't hear him. It was a waste of effort, though, as the combination of Elfily good hearing, and Harry's surreptitious Sonorous Charm meant that to actually achieve that they would have to be on approximately the next continent.

After a very brief and yet still incredibly boring meeting of the 'White Council', which sounded much more interesting than it really was, Harry had managed to convince everyone involved that there was really no downside to him simply heading out to see if he could find the Ring.

Of course he'd be able to find it. He was a Wizard. Gandalf's same-sex life partner, Sorryman, had been rather convinced that it was a fool's errand, and that he'd searched long and hard for the Ring already.

Harry had suggested a simple solution; don't send fools. Sorryman had not taken his well meaning advice too well and had stormed off. The Elf chick, Galadriel, had clearly appreciated that. To think she was a granny.

The upshot, such as it was, had led Harry to his current position, in the arse end of nowhere, leading around a coterie of Elves consisting of Tauriel, Glorfindel and Elrond's two sons.

"That little shit!" said Harry, the direction his wand was consistently pointing now making sense. He stopped and waited for his merry band to catch up.

"I shit you not," said Harry conversationally, as they neared with wary looks on their faces. "I think that fat Hobbit has the bloody thing. What was his name? Billy? Bloddo? Buggins?"

"Bilbo," said one of Elrond's interchangeable sons.

"Yeah. Him. He sodding has it."

"He is but a Hobbit, how would he have come across such a thing?" the same son asked.

Harry shrugged, not really caring. "Dunno. Maybe Smug had it in that mountain of gold that he liked sleeping on?"

"It is not impossible, but could you not be mistaken? The Shire lies along this road, yes, but there is also much that lies beyond," said Glorfindel. He'd proven frustratingly difficult to get under the skin of.

"Except that I checked before, and it pointed right at the little bald Ewok," said Harry.

"What is an Ewok?" asked one or other of Elrond's sons.

"A walking teddy bear."

"What is—"

"If you are right," Tauriel cut in, knowing full well just how much Harry liked to derail conversations, "then surely it is a good thing?"

Harry scowled at her. "Well, if you discount the fact that I could have just got the bloody thing weeks ago, and spent this time trying to get into Granny Elrond's silken underwear."

"Why would you wish—"

"Are you kidding?" Harry replied before Elrodan, or whatever his name was, could finish. "Hubba hubba. Are you telling me, if I Obliviated you right here that you wouldn't want to too?"

Ellahir, maybe, turned to Tauriel, looking completely lost.

"You do not want to understand," she said firmly. "He is merely testing you."

"You know, that kind of test stops working if they know they're being tested," Harry pointed out.

Tauriel simply gave him a blank, unimpressed look. Despite himself, Harry felt a little ashamed. He did have a job to do after all.

"Right, anyway, as I was saying. Belby has the Ring, I'd bet my left nut on it. And that's saying something, I'm quite attached to that nut."

He thought for a moment before turning to Tauriel. "Say, want to take that bet? You'd have to put up something of comparable value." He glanced very obviously at her chest.

"No."

"Just imagine though…"

"No."

o-o

"Yoo hoo!" Harry called as he rapped on the circular door of Buggrins's Hobbit hole. "Belby, me old mate, me old china. It's Harry."

There was a long pause, though Harry's long experience said that it was the silence of someone being quiet, rather than the silence of non-presence.

"I know you're there, you know. Isn't it rude to keep a guest waiting on your doorstep?" he tried. "What would the neighbours think?"

That did the trick, and a moment later the door cracked to. Harry wasted no time, and quickly pushed his way into the burrow. It was actually surprisingly comfortable looking, nowhere near as nasty, dirty and wet as he would have expected. Quite how they waterproofed it, he wasn't sure.

"Oh, and I brought some friends," he said as an afterthought. "I think you know them all though."

"I, um, yes. Good morning Lady Tauriel, Lord Glorfindel, Lord Elladan, Lord Elrohir," said Bilbo, obviously at a complete loss as to how to handle the situation, and so falling back on his in-bred manners. "Would you like some tea?"

"You bloody bet I do," said Harry enthusiastically. "Best part of a week on the road with nothing but acorns for making tea. It's just not the same when it's conjured."

Harry wandered quickly through to the Hobbit's living room and threw himself into the squishy high-backed chair by the fireplace. He lounged there with one leg dangling over the armrest and waited for everyone to make themselves comfortable. He was rather proud when Tauriel quickly commandeered the one remaining sensibly-sized chair, leaving only Hobbit-sized stools for Glorfindel and the brothers.

It took Boffo ten minutes to come back through with the tea, and when he did return he looked visibly calmer, though he was still shooting Harry wary looks. That was just good sense, though. Finally, Bodo took his seat, and Harry took a long sip of tea out of the entirely too-small cup.

He set it down, and put on the face he used when investigating a particularly horrible murder.

"Now, Bilbo, it has some to our attention that you found a rather curious ring while on your little adventure," he said soberly.

"Curious?" said Bilbo, trying artlessly to appear as if he didn't know exactly what Harry was talking about. "In what way would it be curious?"

"Oh it looks pretty normal, I'm told, but it's the invisibility that's curious" said Harry, as he twirled his wand in his hand. A moment later it came to rest pointing at Bilbo's waist. "It's also in your left pocket." He figured that that was more likely than the Hobbit using it as a Prince Albert.

"Invisibility!" said Bilbo, still radiating completely unconvincing surprise. "Well that would be a thing."

"Indeed," said Harry drily. "Accio."

There was a tearing noise, followed by a panicked shriek and the Ring jumped across the room to land in Harry's hand.

"That's mine!" said Bilbo desperately, he stood up and balled his fists. "I found it! You can't just take it! That's robbery!"

"Actually, I think I just did. But if you're worried about that. How about I buy it from you?"

"You… What?"

"You, me, money exchanging hands. All legal-like."

"I don't want to sell it," said Bilbo earnestly. "It's a… a… memento! Yes, a keepsake from my trip to the Lonely Mountain. You wouldn't take that from me now, would you?"

"Listen, Bilbo, it's like this, right," said Harry as he flipped the Ring up in the air in one hand, and watched Bilbo's eyes follow it up and down, up and down. "This Ring needs to be destroyed for the good of the world. It was made by a chap called Sauron who tried to take over the world before. If we don't destroy it, then there's a pretty good chance he'll have another crack at the whip, so to speak. So what you want really has very little bearing in this discussion, I'm just trying to be reasonable."

"I… but…" Bilbo looked desperately at Glorfindel for confirmation.

"I am sad to say that he speaks the truth, Master Baggins," said Glorfindel.

Bilbo sagged. "Oh."

"Do not despair, my fine furry friend," said Harry, instantly dropping his serious attitude. "I said I was going to pay for it."

He reached into the pouch at his belt, held it out and turned it upside down. A stream of gold coins started pouring onto the carpet.

"Say when," said Harry, largely ignoring the growing heap of gold and jewels.

"Wh… What?"

"When it's enough," Harry clarified. "Say when."

The pile was already significantly taller than Bilbo, and Harry had to push it over so that he didn't need to leave his seat to keep pouring it out. With half the gold of Erebor to his name, he could afford to be generous.

"When!" cried Bilbo. "When!"

Harry quickly closed the neck of his pouch and returned it to his waist. "It was a pleasure doing business with you."

He finished off the last of his tea in a single gulp, then grimaced. Cold. He then rubbed his hands and looked at the rest of the room's inhabitants who were still staring at the pile of gold which filled up easily half of the room. "So, pub? I saw one down in Hobbiton that looked like it knew its way around a barrel."

Harry thought for a moment longer. "Also, do you think I'd be able to pass for a Hobbit?"

o-o

Hobbit ladies were nowhere near as attractive as Elvish ones, but Harry would accept any port in a storm. In all honesty, he wasn't all that far away from docking up in an amorous badger, if one happened to present itself.

Hobbit beer was also little better than shitty flavoured water to someone with an Elvish constitution. He'd been through six pints (in half-pint pitchers) already, and all that had resulted in was the frequent need to visit the little warlock's room.

He was currently draped rather fetchingly, if he did say so himself, over one Lobelia Bracegirdle who was making a very good show of laughing at his jokes, even though there was precisely zero chance that she understood his Quidditch references. He realised, of course, that the reason she was still present was because Harry had 'accidentally' dropped a number of gold coins while getting his third drink.

He had no problem with gold-diggers. His logic was that everyone pays for sex, one way or another.

"And so then I told him, 'Hagrid, I suggested an inflatable dragon, not a fellatable one!'" Harry laughed uproariously, joined by a confused Lobelia. After a short while he regressed to a chuckle, and rubbed the tears from his eyes. "Still, I guess those kids got an education out of it, so no harm, no foul."

At that moment, in his infinite wisdom, Glorfindel entered the cozy tavern and all conversation stopped. He made his way over to where Harry was giving him an entirely ineffective evil-eye.

"The twins have returned from their scouting, they say that the borders of the Shire are being watched by dark figures," he said without preamble.

Harry looked up at him. "... So…?"

"The Enemy must have gleaned our purpose here, and faster than we'd feared," Glorfindel explained. "We must make for the Havens of Mithlond, they do not watch the Westward Road, yet, at least. We cannot wait for dawn."

Harry lowered his voice and gestured Glorfindel closer. "Look, you're killing me here. Give me an hour, two, tops, and I can seal the deal here and be on the road with a spring in my step."

It was not to be, however, for at that moment something clicked in Lobelia's brain. "Wait, are you an Elf?" There was a pause as she followed that line of reasoning through to its conclusion. "You're a child! Oh, my days!"

She made a rapid exit. Harry turned to Glorfindel, who appeared utterly unrepentant. "I hate this world and everyone in it."