Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter or any related copyrights.

Lily- Noruiloth

James- Mellombrand

Sirius- Maethorvel

Remus- Erebithil

Erebithil had noticed early on that his wand had not followed him through to this strange new reality, but as the days immediately following his materialization here were a crash course of functioning in polite Elven society without grievously insulting someone, the thought was driven completely from his mind. Then came the swordsmanship lessons and archery lessons. Mellombrand and Maethorvel took great pleasure in teaching their friend the ways of the sword and bow; great pleasure.

Erebithil had always been the best of them when it came to magical dueling. His penchant for reading anything and everything gave him a vast knowledge of spells that his friends had never heard of, and he much enjoyed bringing them out during their very common friendly duels. Mellombrand and Maethorvel relished in the fact that they were better at sword dueling than he. (They conveniently ignored the fact that they had been learning the ways of the sword for almost a full century longer than he.)

After one particularly grueling session with Mellombrand and Maethorvel took great pleasure in still being able to best him every two out of three times, Erebithil brought up a topic that had been... not bothering him exactly, more nagging incessantly at the back of his mind. For a while he couldn't figure out what it was that was trying to gain his attention, and when he did finally figure it out, the topic always seemed to fall by the wayside in favor of other things.

The three of them lounged beneath a tree in the golden light of sunset after their practice.

"I was wondering…." Erebithil began, "about Magic. I mean, I know it exists here. Obviously, there's Gandalf, Saruman and Radagast, and magic rings, and I can practically feel it in the air, but my wand didn't follow me, apparently. Have you figured out if we still have it? Have we graduated to wandless magic, or did you find substitutes?" They were silent for a long moment. Erebithil looked at the two of them who had frozen wide-eyed, staring at each other.

"I'm going to take that as you haven't so much as thought of your own magic since you got here…." He sighed.

"How could we forget about our Magic?!" Mellombrand cried.

"I don't know!" Maethorvel gasped. Mellombrand rose and paced feverishly for a few moments before seeming to have a thought occur.

"Noruiloth! If we haven't remembered our Magic, then she couldn't have either!"

Maethorvel scrambled to his feet, and they took off running and shouting for Noruiloth. Erebithil shook his head and laughed quietly to himself as he stood and followed his friends.

They found Noruiloth with Tinulaer and Tinulaer's two daughters, the youngest of whom, Edhellaer, was barely mobile yet.

"Noruiloth! My flower, my love," Mellombrand said sweetly.

"Yes?" Noruiloth said suspiciously, with one brow raised. Rhovanaeron, Tinulaer's older daughter, giggled.

"Um, have you… well, that is. Magic," Mellombrand stammered finally, flustered by his oversight of something he had seen as essential to his very being.

"Magic. I… use it every day? Oh! I've been meaning to tell you! Time just seems to move so differently here, I keep losing track of it. I've been playing with my magic, and found that certain things are good conductors. For instance, things made of mithril are very good conductors, while things made of iron are not. I've also noticed that the magic is a lot stronger when using a conductor.." she said. Her eager explanation trailed off as she took in the defeated features of her husband. Erebithil, who had just joined them, laughed heartily at them.

"What?" Noruiloth asked.

"You've been practicing magic?" Mellombrand asked weakly.

"You haven't?"

Maethorvel groaned as Tinulaer, Noruiloth and Rhovanaeron joined Erebithil in laughter. Soon Edhellaer was shrieking her joy at them as well.

After that day, Mellombrand and Maethorvel added practicing magic to their daily schedules, between sparring and practicing their archery.

Before he was even aware of it, Erebithil's first month in Rivendell passed, and they were all forced to start thinking about what would happen come the night of the Full Moon.

"Well my good sirs, and lady," Mellombrand began, flopping into a chair with a cup of wine, "the full moon shall rise in three days time. What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. It's strange; it doesn't feel the same…" Erebithil admitted, "Either way I don't want to take any chances. We should speak to Lord Elrond to see if he knows of any good places to keep a werewolf. Maybe the catacombs we woke up in?"

"I still think we would be fine with Prongs and Padfoot," Maethorvel muttered.

"You still can't transform, or keep your forms, reliably. There is no way I am allowing you to put yourselves into that potential danger," Erebithil said.

"I agree. Once you two can stay transformed without turning back every time you get distracted, then you can romp around the woods with a wolf," Noruiloth added, plucking Mellombrand's wine from his grip and taking a sip.

"Aw, where's the fun in that?" Mellombrand whined, snatching his wine back and draining it.

Lord Elrond had looked perturbed by their request for a secure location, but gave them the option of taking a closer look at the catacombs to see if they suited their needs, or seeing one of the few dungeon cells that Imladris had. In the end, they voted that the dungeon cell was the more secure location, and they set about securing it for their purposes.

As the night of the Full Moon drew closer, Erebithil couldn't help but think how very different it felt than it did before. He wasn't sure what it meant. In any case, Erebithil's anxiety grew as the days passed, which caused a certain amount of tension among their group. Elladan and Elrohir did their best to alleviate it, to no avail.