And were off with a bang. R&R and Enjoy! ~F
Chapter One
The Siege of Erebor
Harry wasn't expecting to be thrown into another large scale battle so soon after the disastrous attack on Hogwarts, but clearly that wasn't to be the case.
They arrived on the far edge of the mountain valley, in a rocky field where the river swung in a wide arc around them. From his study of the maps in Orthanc, Harry knew that this was the ruins of Dale. But now where once a city of men had dwelled there was no more than scant traces of their mighty buildings may have once stood. From the north, Erebor loomed vast and majestic, and from where they were the sounds of a fierce battle was carried on the wind.
"Onward warriors of Rohan, to battle we ride!" Ceolwulf shouted, and together they surged forward, heedless of the oncoming sounds of great orcish drums. Mounting the final rise, Harry observed the carnage that had occurred before they could arrive. The dwarves of Erebor seemed to have been reinforced by their nearest brethren from the nearby Iron Hills, and the Dwarf Lords were making a valiant effort. Several ranks of shield walls were charging from the mountain against oncoming waves of the largest and darkest orcs that Harry had ever laid eyes on. Even with their superior numbers, they were hard put to press the dwarf forces back toward the mountain gates, but they were slowly managing it.
From the golden gleam of his armor, Harry spotted Lord Thráin atop the ramparts of the mountain, along with another dwarf that seemed even more impressive than the Lord of Erebor. "Náin is here," Faykan said in surprise. "How did the orcs know to strike when the King of Durin's Folk himself was present?"
"There is little we can do against a force so vast, my Lords," Ceolwulf said.
"There is little we need to do," Harry surprised himself by answering, "we must delay their forces until the dwarves of Moria and Aglarond arrive. They will know their King is threatened, and they will come with all haste, if they have not begun their march already."
"Then now is the hour," Cælin added.
Turning to Harry and Draco, Faykan looked sad, "I'm sorry to lead you both through so many perils."
Draco simply shook his head, "We would have followed you whether you wanted us to or not."
"So be it, then." Faykan replied stoically, gazing out on the hordes that awaited them.
They took their places at the head of the army of Rohan, and the wild horns of the eastern plains blasted out high and clear over the din of battle. Sword aloft, Ceolwulf sounded the charge, and the armies of the Horse Lords surged forth once more to battle. Harry cried the oaths of death and glory, and the elf-made sword in his hand shone forth with pale fire as he spurred forth to the head of his column. 'For Dumbledore,' he thought as he raised his weapon to meet their foes.
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Draco, taking to the air on broomstick, watched with terrified fascination as the lines of riders crashed into the rear of the orcish ranks, trampling through the vile warriors and skewering many with their lances and spears.
Eyes magnified by a spell, Draco could see that even the dwarves were shocked and amazed at the timely arrival of the men of the plains. Surging forth atop his broom, Draco sped toward the Lord of Erebor on the ramparts of the mountain gate, leaping from the air to land before him and the other Dwarf-Lords.
"Lord Telcontar, it's good to see you at this hour laddie." Thráin said, gratefully clapping Draco hard on the back. The others watched in silence.
"My Lord," Draco said hastily, trying to catch his breath from the jarring slap to his back and the speed of his decent to the ramparts, "you need to send forth all your warriors. The Dwarves from the south are on their way, and we need to buy as much time as possible."
The tallest of the Dwarf-Lords, wearing a jeweled crown of gold and a suit of mail that familiarly shimmered in the sunlight, seemed to take this as his cue to speak. "So this is the heir of Elessar; the one that that old meddler told you of nephew?"
"Aye, that he is, Uncle," Thráin said, smiling at Draco as he spoke.
"Wizards…" huffed the other dwarf, "always showing up at the last minute, and always full of surprises, many undesired." He turned, and barked orders in the dwarven language at his guards, who turned and stormed away swiftly. "We'll play his game for now, and if we survive this day I suppose something will have to be done about him…"
And with that, the Dwarf King, Draco guessed, turned and strode away, yelling for warriors to make ready for battle, and for the gates to be unbarred.
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Harry swung Hadhafang again, severing an orc's head from the rest of its body as he rode past. They were almost through the first of several lines of armor warriors bearing down on the dwarven ranks.
Glancing up to find a new target, Harry spotted Faykan atop his own mount, crushing through orcs like they were toy figurines rather than deadly warriors. A bright flash exploded from his staff, scattering the dark orcs from around him. Then a bellowing roar caused Harry to whip his head around. A massive troll, easily twice the size of the one Faykan fought nearly six years ago, was wading through the combatants toward him, huge spiked club swinging back and forth in the air.
Harry did not waste time deciding how to respond to this threat, he charged headlong at the troll, ducking the club as it swung over him, and with a whispered spell, Harry struck. Hadhafang flashed through the air like lightning, slashing a deep line across the exposed neck of the troll just under its hideous skull-like helm. Black blood burst outward as the troll dropped in a heap, but Harry had no time to concern himself with its death throes. Pressing onward, Harry heard the blast of ram horns from the direction of the mountain.
A roar from the front lines of defenders turned his head briefly to the front of the mountain. The great stone doors to Erebor had swung wide, and more warriors were pouring forth. Harry saw Thráin at their head, along with Draco and another dwarf that seemed somewhat taller than the rest, clad in gold armor and surrounded by elite guards. This must have been Náin, King of the Dwarves; there was no other option for who the dwarves would so quickly rally behind. Warcries and oaths of blood and vengeance filled the air as the King of Durin's Folk led his people to battle.
"Behold!" Harry yelled, rallying the warriors around him, "The King of the Mountains has come!"
The men of Rohan cheered, and surged once again onto their foes. The orcs may have had two fronts to fight, but they still had great advantages of numbers. There seemed to be little they could do to stop the limitless hordes of the enemy.
"Harry!" he turned and saw Faykan ride up beside him, "We need to open a portal big enough for the Borin and his army to join us. With them we can turn the tide of this battle!"
Harry nodded, and together the two powerful wizards began to funnel magic energy through the silver and sapphire staff while several warriors of Rohan kept a wide perimeter around them.
The air shimmered as a faint blue glow started to emanate from the large gem. There was a crackle of electricity and slowly a rift began to expand outward in a wide circle. Before it was even at its fullest size, Borin leapt through, massive battle axe in hand, and iron armor studded with jewels. "Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!" he roared, and surged forward into the fray, ranks of fresh soldiers at his back, practically spilling out of the portal as fast as they could manage.
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Draco stabbed through another orc, throwing the vile creature backward off the blade of the king and bowling over one of its fellows. He was at the head of the dwarven defenders, alongside Thráin and Náin and their guards as they became the spear-point of their side of a grand pincer. The blast of magic from the far side had Draco guessing what Faykan was at work with this time, but he had no time to figure it out, as the orcs were pressing their line with all the aggression they could muster.
The newest wave had a large pale beast in the forefront, and Náin leapt at it with a roar of rage, metal shield bashing the orc's weapon aside, which allowed the Dwarf King's own axe to strike, clanging hard off the armor plates that had been fastened directly onto the creature's skin.
The powerfully built pale orc wheeled on Náin and bull rushed the stouter being, knocking the King of Durin's folk backward. Thráin yelled for his Uncle, and the elite warriors pressed forward, but many more orcs swarmed around the pale one, blocking the dwarves from their king.
Draco however, had more up his sleeve than just a melee weapon however. As the massive orc bore down toward the King, Draco's wand slashed through the air, and a whip of fire was conjured, snagging around the massive and crude sword in the claw-like hand and heavily burning the pale flesh. The momentary distraction gave Náin the time he needed to regain his footing and ready his weapons. Draco then switched to a burst of offensive magic, blasting hexes and piercing curses meant to hamper and causing internal damage to the beast while Náin hacked at its armored side to keep it busy.
One of Draco spells hit its mark just as Náin's axe found the beast's unprotected side. The pale orc fell, crashing to the ground just as the shouts of dwarven reinforcements sounded were heard from the far side of the battle.
The orcish army, unable to understand where more dwarves were arriving from, started to flee to the northwest, abandoning the battle just as it started to become a fair fight.
"Cowards!" Náin shouted in contempt at the fleeing orcs, swinging his bloodied axe above his head. "Defeating the sons of Durin won't be so easy!"
"Uncle!" someone called from the center of the battlefield. Draco turned to see Borin wading through the sea of corpses toward them.
"Borin!" the Dwarf King said, "aren't you a sight for sore eyes lad!" Draco's breath caught when an orc that had fallen, but wasn't quite dead, lunged from the ground at the King. The Dwarf casually dodged backward, and then brought his axe in an overhead strike, severing the offending creature's head from its body.
"How'd you get here so fast Nephew?" Náin asked, but Draco suspected the answer immediately.
"Why don't you ask him how yourself?" Borin said, turning to look behind him. Náin stiffened as Faykan and Harry came into view. "Hail, King Náin…" Faykan said merrily.
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Bellatrix looked up from the scrying basin, somewhat fearful of her Lord's potential ire, but Voldemort was smiling as he watched the fleeing armies. "My Lord?" she asked, concerned for his lack of emotion.
"This defeat is of little consequence, dear Bella. Our wayward allies in the north are serving a useful purpose even in their selfish reluctance to obey my direct commands. They proved a valuable distraction for my enemies, who will continue to expend energy on them now, quite possibly in a counter attack on Mount Gundabad. Now come, we have plans to make and a war to commence…"
Bellatrix followed obediently, taking a final glance back at the basin, and considering some of the odd changes in the Dark Lord over the last two years. He had significantly changed from when the orc had presented him with the ring of power. Bella was surprised that she couldn't even see it on the Dark Lord's long slender hands anymore.
Then there was the significant turn of events in his combat strategies. During the first war, her Lord was more inclined to wage battle from the shadows, striking politically or by assassination to achieve his ends. But now… now he was willing to fight in the open, as a tide of power that would wash out anything that stood against it.
Still, Bella was more than willing to continue with the war on those who blood was not pure to know of magic. When the pair of them reached the spacious room that the Dark Lord had transformed into his council room, Voldemort immediate took his spacious seat at the head of a long table. Bellatrix sat down slightly from her Lord, between Rabastan and Lucius.
The last members to arrive were Snape and Yaxley, and Voldemort called them to sit in their respected places so that the meeting could begin. "So?" the Dark Lord began, addressing Snape first.
"My Lord," the man started, "the Order of the Phoenix intent to move Harry Potter from his relative's house on Saturday next at nightfall, far sooner than they though any of us would expect." The rest of the room's interest sharpened palpably. Bellatrix felt her pulse quicken, she had seen Potter at the battle in the north. It was quite apparent that the boy could come and go at will without their knowledge already. Why would such a mistake be made when they could easily have moved the boy long ago?
"Saturday… at nightfall," the Dark Lord repeated. His crimson eyes pierced into Snape's black one with such intensity that many other Death Eaters looked away, fearful that their own secrets might be seen by their master. Snape met the gaze dead on, and after several moments Voldemort's mouth curved into a small smile. "Good. Very good. And this information comes…"
"…from the source we discussed," Snape replied, but Bellatrix did not know what who he referred to.
Bellatrix glanced at her Lord as Yaxley started to offer his views about his contacts in the Ministry and their knowledge about the boy being moved closer to the end of July. The Dark Lord met her glance, and Bella knew that he was suspecting the same thing that she herself was. Potter was not at his relative's home, if he had been prior at all. Attacking the muggle house was a trap. The real question was whether Severus or Yaxley was a traitor and feeding them false information.
Bellatrix suspected Snape more than the idiot Yaxley, but the Dark Lord had always placed the utmost confidence in the surly Potions Master, and she had no reason to disbelieve her Lord of the matter. Nevertheless, she would keep her eyes on these two, just in case what she suspected proved to be true.
"Yaxley," the Dark Lord said, cutting off the side conversations of the Carrow twins, "Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?"
Again, all heads turned to face the man. Yaxley squared his shoulders self importantly as he answered, "My Lord, I have good news regarding that endeavor. I have, with difficulty and after great effort, succeeded in placing the Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse."
An impressive feat indeed, Bellatrix admitted. Thickness had an impressive will on him, and to subject that to the service of the Dark Lord required an equally powerful charm. "It is a start," Voldemort congratulated. "But Thicknesse is only one man. I desire Scrimgeour to be surrounded by our people before I claim the Ministry as my own. I will be most… displeased… if our takeover is set back by a failed attempt on his life."
"Y-yes my Lord; of course my Lord," Yaxley stammered. Bellatrix did nothing to hide her grin at the man's weakness in front of the Dark Lord. The rest of the meeting turned out to be a bore in comparison, so Bellatrix amused herself by staring around the room at a random Death Eater until they grew agitated by her gaze, then moving on to the next one. Only Snape seemed impervious to her mad gleam, but he had never had much reaction to anything since he joined their ranks.
Soon enough the meeting was adjourned, and the other Death Eaters filed away to return to their other duties. Bella was about to join them, when the Dark Lord called her back once again. "My dear Bella," he said silkily, "I know that you recognized the same implication that I myself had with Severus' report. Harry Potter is not in muggle Surry, and has not been there for a long time yet."
"No my Lord, it is clear that he is not," Bellatrix agreed immediately.
"Such as this was the case, I have a… special plan for you to head, with regards to the muggle relatives of my foe…"
Bellatrix giggled at the sinister gleam in her Master's eyes as he detailed his chosen plan to her.
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Harry carefully watched the short interaction between King Náin and Faykan, noting the carefully hidden contempt in the old dwarf's eyes as he watched their approach.
"Hail, King Náin." Faykan said merrily, but Harry heard the note of indecision in his best friend's voice. Faykan was just as uncertain about the outcome of this meeting as the rest of them. Náin could prove to be just as vicious a foe as the orcs they had just driven away, or he could become a great ally.
"I do not accept good greetings from you, old meddler. Your form may be young, but I can see the wheels spinning in your twisted mind from here. I have nothing but ill will toward you or whatever news you bring!" Náin spat back. His two nephews, Lords Borin and Thráin looked on in sadness as their Uncle and King stormed away. For a moment, Harry thought that they too would depart soon, but Faykan walked forward, following the Dwarven King as he proceeded back to Erebor.
"Náin, you know that your forces would have been overwhelmed if not for our arrival. How well does it speak of your line if you were to refuse those who gave you aid in a desperate hour?" Fay said, calmly but sternly.
"If it is your aid that I am offered, I will gladly take my leave of it." Náin shouted as he strode away, "I want nothing to do with wizards or your affairs!"
"It was the affair and aid of wizards that won you back this mountain originally, if I recall correctly," Faykan shot back, causing the dwarf King to halt. Náin turned, fuming, and Harry wondered if he would call his guards. "What do you want, you menace?" he demanded, frustration evident at being back into a corner my Faykan's persistence.
"You know of what we seek Náin," Faykan said slowly, trying not to agitate the Dwarven King any further than he had already, "we need your help, in arms and forces, to combat the same evil we have driven away this day. The orcs didn't attack of their own accord. You know this better than most others here. I tell you that the Dark Lord Voldemort is commanding these creatures, and if we do not stop him, they will return to wipe out the line of Durin entirely."
"And why should I trust anything you have to say or request of my people?" Náin said, glaring at Faykan with what Harry spotted as hurt and distrust, "Especially after you sided with our enemies one more occasion that I care to remember."
"You'll still not let that one instance go, will you?" Faykan said, shaking his head sadly.
"You know that I cannot. After thousands of years of alliance between the dwarves and races of men, brought by your kind no less, you go and turn to aid the goblins when we were about to wipe their filth from the Misty Mountains for good." Náin shouted. "And then you turn to us for aid when their relatives come against you. How can I trust you to take the right course of action this time?"
At last, Harry understood the quarrel between King Náin and Faykan. The wars between goblins and dwarves had been fought over many hundreds of year, sparked at first by the last Dwarf King by the name of Durin, when he led a force in retaking the Kingdom of Khazad-dûm late in the Fourth Age. Since then, the vendetta between the two races boiled hot, and war ravaged the Misty Mountains for over two ages of the world, wreaking devastation upon both races.
During the final battle, when the last major stronghold of the Goblins was just about to be besieged, an Istari, whom Harry now guessed was Faykan himself, intervened, crying out at the leaders of both nations to observe the destruction they were causing upon themselves. The Goblin King, being less brutish and hostile than many of his predecessors, looked out of his fortress over the carnage, and openly wept, yelling for truce and peace between their peoples. But the Dwarf Lord in charge of the attacking forces would hear none of it, and challenged the Istari for their right to destroy the goblin nation once and for all.
It had ended badly, for the Istari was forced to show a portion of his power, and injured many of the dwarven warriors before their leader called a retreat, crying that he would never trust the likes of wizards again, nor his family for all generations of time.
That distrust was what permeated here now, along with fear of Faykan's power quite likely. "Because," Faykan said slowly, "despite everything that happened all those years ago, I had never diverted from the protection of the free peoples of the earth. Your grandfather was blind to the suffering of his own people during those wars, and if I had not intervened, both your people and the goblins would have been wiped out from existence. And look, from that event, those goblins formed a beautiful nation that shunned their violent ways, for the most part. They created good and beautiful things, and became as free willed a people as men or dwarves ever were."
"Bah!" Náin scoffed, waving a hand dismissively at Faykan, "some argument your set yourself upon, meddler. You know well as I that the spawn of darkness could never be more than vicious destroyers of all that is good. If you have nothing else to support your claims, then gladly remove yourself from my presence."
"Have you heard nothing you old fool!" Draco shouted, causing all there to turn to him. Harry smiled as he saw the boy's hand firmly grasping the sword Andúril by the sheathed hilt, and he felt in his heart that the boy king was guided in his role by some unseen force from within the elf enchanted weapon.
"Who dares to mock the King of Durin's Folk!" Náin shouted at Draco, who rose to his full height to meet the dwarven Kings verbal abuse.
"I do. I, Sgiathatch Telcontar, heir of the house of Elendil of the men of Númenor; I to whom the Council of the wise has given the Sword of the King." Draco declared, causing the King to back down a step, realizing that he spoke to an equal, possibly even more than an equal.
There was a long moment, and Harry was not at all certain what would happen next.
"Very well, very well!" Náin at last said, throwing his hands up in frustration, "you can have your arms and weapons for your war, but I will not spare more of my warriors on anything short of a full scale invasion of Gundabad."
"We thank you for your generosity King Náin, perhaps we will be able to assist that attack when we've accomplish a few important tasks, if you'll have us as reinforcements once again." Faykan said wearily.
"Hmph…" Náin huffed, "If you were to show up, we may have a use for you and your fighters, I suppose. Wizards do have a good use for battle at least…"
Harry hadn't been so glad to depart from any place more than the battlefield before the mountain and the overly proud dwarf King.
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Severus sighed in relief when he apparated to the clearing that surrounded the tower of Orthanc. After nearly a week around the Dark Lord, returning here to the bastion of the forces of Light was like a breath of fresh air in the Potions Master's lungs.
And yet, there seemed to be an air of tension about as he walked through the sea of tents that the Rohirric refugees had set up around the black stone tower. If Severus was to guess, it seemed that they had just returned from a battle, but he wouldn't know for sure until he spoke with Harry, Draco and Faykan.
Entering the dark wood doors that still had faint remnants of markings on them from a bygone age, Severus paused to take in the aura of powerful magic that wafted over him like a warm blanket on a cold night. The three seeming young wizards were easily found in an upper library room, perusing through the ancient tomes and other manuscripts.
"Ah, Sev, good to see you," Faykan said cheerfully, setting aside what looked to be a muggle fiction novel, "any news?
"Indeed, more that even I care to know of." Severus said, the grim memory of the Dark Lord still fresh in his mind. "The Dark Lord seeks to attack Harry's muggle relatives in the hopes to get at Harry before he is 'moved' to a safe location."
"Ah," Faykan said, nodding as he smiled, "do you think he believes out little plot?"
"I'm not certain, he didn't immediately make any plans to attack the date we set for, and he held Bellatrix back afterward for a private conversation, it doesn't bode well." Severus admitted.
"Does he suspect you?" Harry asked from his seat.
"Again, I can't say for sure," Severus said tiredly. "It would be a fair guess to hold off too much more planting of false information. Meanwhile, I have been assigned by the Dark Lord to be the new Headmaster of Hogwarts."
"Good, couldn't have happened to a more qualified wizard." Faykan replied, smiling still. "I'm sure you will do Dumbledore's memory proud in protecting the students this year. Especially with all the new measures that Voldemort is sure to place on admittance and discipline."
"I shudder to imagine," Severus agreed. He was about to continue with his report when a bird soared in through the window toward Faykan. Reflexively raising an arm, the Istari allowed the grey and white gull to land, and immediately relieved it of its package. Immediately the bird took to flight again, disappearing through the window as quickly as it had arrived.
"What's that?" Draco asked from the desk at the far side of the room which he was reading at, but Faykan didn't answer. The boy was smiling again, and turned to toss the package gently to Harry. "You'll want this Harry." he said, and the green eyed boy caught the little parcel with his Quidditch skill.
Harry opened the package, and Severus widened his eyes as the fist sized emerald in a setting of gold was revealed. The well finished gem gleamed in the light from the window. "What is it?" the boy asked, while Severus turned immediately to Faykan.
"You've got to be kidding me?" he asked, which caused all three of the young men turned to him. "Harry is one like you? Since when did this happen?" he demanded.
"That, is probably one of the longest stories I could tell you right now, Sev," Faykan said slowly, "but as you know what happens next, would you care to fill Draco in while Harry and I perform the ritual to build his staff?"
Severus glanced at Draco, who looked highly confused at the turn of events, and he nodded. Faykan beckoned for the three of them to follow him, and together they proceeded upward, taking only a single detour to a small side room that had been turned into a greenhouse filled with plants that even Severus had little knowledge of. In the very center was a large, magically potted and pure white tree, its branched completely devoid of leaf or fruit. The limbs were strong looking however, despite being very long and slender.
Draco however seemed to recognize the tree immediately. "Is that…" he started to say, and Faykan nodded.
"Yes," the Istari nodded answered as he pulled off a nearby table an ancient set of secateurs and approached the tree. "It is a juvenile version of the White Tree of Gondor, one that I had nurtured and protected over the years. It's nearly dead now however, but I did manage to save and preserve many seeds for the future."
With great care, he reverently knelt and severed the longest branch at its base, which was easily as long as his whole body. "This will be perfect," he said as he straightened up and tested the branch's weight and flexibility. "A fitting match for a descendent of the Kings," Faykan finally declared, presenting the shaft of wood to Harry.
Before any of them could ask the Istari a question however, Faykan had taken off again, leading them up to the pinnacle of the tower, where he started a nonstop explanation to Harry of the small ritual that would fuse his old wand with the new components and create a powerful staff like his own. Meanwhile, Draco leaned toward Severus. "Do you know what's going on?"
"A vague idea at best, but this will prove very insightful to watch…" Severus said briefly as Harry slowly began the ritual, guided by Faykan. "taur leuthil ar' temol en' kalina auta vee' er tehta en' poldora ar' val!"
Severus had seen the end result before, but Draco's mouth opened slightly as the three items began to float into the air, and merged in a blinding flash of lift, transforming into a runed white staff crowned in gold and emerald. It radiated with pure magical power, seeming to blaze like a tiny green sun.
As Harry hefted his new weapon, the small black-haired boy's eyes shimmered with white light, and his robes flared to a brilliant green color. He smiled as he tested the staff in his hand and Faykan nodded in approval.
"I believe it is time to call our allies together once again, and speak of our new objectives," Faykan announced as they started back down the stairs of the tower.
"Yes," Harry agreed instantly, "The more eyes in secret we have searching for the Horcruxes, the quicker we may find them."
Severus paused momentarily at the seemingly instant switch of maturity on the part of Harry. If anything it reminded him of the way Faykan had acted for the first four years he at Hogwarts while hiding in plain sight.
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Hermione sighed as she sat in her room for the last time. It was quickly proving far too dangerous for her to continue living in the muggle world, especially with all the new Ministry decrees that were rolling out against non-Purebloods.
The downside was that her parents would never approve of her simply vanishing from of their lives out of the blue. Which was why, against her previous inclinations, Hermione had opted to temporarily erase the memories of her parents and have them both move to either Australia or The States. Anywhere far away from Voldemort and his armies would be fine for the time being.
But the burning of the D.A. coin in her pocket meant that she was to be summoned to Orthanc, and there was little time even for proper goodbyes. Silently, tears flowing down her face, she packed a purple beaded handbag that she had expanded at the end of the previous term. As she slowly descended the stairs, she observed as her parents watched the tele for several minutes, before finally leveling her want and whispering, "Obliviate…"
Working her magic carefully, she locked away all memories of herself from both of them, and planted a desire to move out of the country and travel abroad. Finally, while they were in a dazed state of confusion they would not remember, she kissed each of them goodbye, and grasped the coin tightly, thinking of Isengard. A swirl of blue and she appeared in the grassy courtyard before the tower.
Children laughed and played as they ran between the sea of tents, and Hermione felt a small smile creep up her face as she walked between the milling people. Occasionally she would spot a centaur or dwarf walking among the many people, garnering much attention and rumors as to something large being planned by the White Council.
Summoning her courage, Hermione squared her shoulders, hefted her bag, and walked straight to the doors of the ancient Gondorian outpost. Mounting the stairs and reaching the main gathering chamber, she wasn't prepared to walk straight into a full meeting of the Council.
Harry, Draco, and Faykan smiled at her in greeting, but they turned as the one centaur present in the meeting spoke up. "Our herd is grateful for the supply of weapons and armor; it has indeed been a long time since the races of centaurs were given such a role of trust. Many are more than willing to take up arms and fight, although the elders still cling to the old interpretations of the stars and remaining out of the affairs of wizards."
"Some allies are better than none," Harry replied reasonably.
As Hermione quietly walked around the outer parameter, trying her best to not disturb or distract anyone from the meeting, she got a good look at Harry. She was stunned to see a pure white staff resting in his hand, crowned with a large Emerald in a gold setting. The boy was also wearing striking green robes that matched the color of his eyes perfectly. For all intents and purposes, he appeared exactly like Faykan in all but color and facial features.
Faykan nodded in agreement, "Harry is correct, we can use all the warriors and those willing to fight that we can. Even noncombatants who want to contribute whatever they can are more than welcome. I expect this entire year to be the hardest when it comes to fighting, and we need to be ahead of our enemy as much as possible."
As Faykan continued, Hermione saw Draco turn to look at her, and she paused when he looked questioningly at her. Wiping at her face Hermione realized that there were still tear steaks marring her otherwise clear skin. Waving away Draco's concerned look, she turned toward the staircase up to the guestrooms further up the tower.
Along the way, the weight of her decision started to press down, and Hermione felt fresh tears threaten to crawl down her face. "Hermione?" someone said, and she turned to see Ron exiting the floor ahead where the rooms they had used before were located. "Are you alright?' he asked as he spotted her tear streaked face.
"Yes, I'm fine," she lied quickly.
Ron gave her a knowing look, "What happened Hermione? You're crying…"
"I…I…" she stammered, flustered. Ron put a hand comfortingly on her shoulder, offering whatever support he could, "I obliviated my parents…" she whispered before breaking down entirely.
Ron said nothing, just held her comfortingly as her emotions swept through her. Slowly, Hermione calmed down, the knowledge that she had done everything she had to protect her family, and that Ron and her other friends were here to support her through the tough times ahead.
Potential Spoilers Ahead, You Have Been Warned!
I admit, most of the dwarven-related scenes in this and the previous book were because of the Hobbit Movies coming out concurrently, of which I am not ashamed. Given the timeframe (dumped on him at the last minute because the previous director bowed out) and resources (or lack thereof) that Peter Jackson was given, personally I think he did a great job with all three movies, and their connection back to LotR, but I may be in the minority in that regard. Still, weaving the battles between the goblins of the Misty mountains to that of the dwarves of Durin I felt was an appropriate thing to include, and I stand by it. until next time! ~F