A/N: It's been way too long. I doubt many people will still read this story, as I've definitely fallen out of tune with the writing. I want honest reviews, telling me if you like this or not. It was hard to jump into the plot again, but if you think it's still okay, then I'll continue to update. Anyway, onwards!

The distant crackle of fire jolted Harry awake. He felt a frantic wave of horror sweep through his body and he nearly jumped out of his make-shift pallet until he realized it was only the sound of the camp side fire, sputtering into the night .

"S'wrong, Harry?" he heard Pippin call out from the other side of the fire, his voice uneasy.

"It's nothing, just nerves, is all." his response was quick and a near whisper, but the other fell silent.

His heart raced, and his body quivered from his self induced adrenaline rush. He rubbed at his forehead and breathed in deeply, shifting on the hard ground so that he lay on his side, back to the fire. He didn't want Pippin to be staring at him but he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand high and he knew there were eyes trained on him.

They had been as a party of four in the Fangorn Forest for over two days and he was exhausted from the continuous questioning of the Hobbits and the watchful eye of Gandalf. It didn't help that he couldn't sleep, his ears always reaching out to hear any strange noises. His mind raced, going from his old life to his worry about his friend Ashtwig. He hoped to Merlin that the Ent had been able to get to safety.

He shut his eyes tightly, even though it didn't do him any good. He wanted to press the images of burning forest out of his mind, the essence of dying life fading as he watched, shriveling in the flames and heat. His mind echoed the horrible sounds of Orcs, calling out into the forest of newly born inferno, chasing him with their axes.

"UGH," came his frustrated sigh. He sat up.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Pippin queried, shifting. He stared at Harry with a peculiar look on his face.

"I'm fine. I just can't sleep. I'll take over so you can get some rest. No use in both of us being up when you can be sleeping."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice slightly hopeful.

"Yeah, I'll wake Gandalf up if I get tired."

Pippin nodded, stifling a yawn before he took his place close to the fire, wrapping up in his cloak. It wasn't five seconds later and Harry could hear his snoring.

Said boy stood near the fire for a minute until the heat made him move to a nearby tree. He leaned his form against it, sighing. The darkness didn't bother him so much, as he could still see the life all around him. It quivered in the wind, shifting and shaking, a soft pulse in the darkness. He wouldn't look at the fire often; it seemed to just eat away at the air around it, a black void of destruction.

Once more his mind wandered off to Ashtwig. Surely he was alright. An Ent could take down Orcs, right? Something his size wouldn't go down easily and he was sturdy enough. He wrapped his cloak tightly around his shoulders as he began having doubts. Ents were slow and there were just so many Orcs that night.　Harry pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head and hunched his shoulders. He decided he would have faith in his friends survival and safety. There was no use in worrying over it - there was no turning back.

So, instead, the boy turned his attention over to where the elder wizard slumbered. He studied the radiant glow of the man, then set his 'sight' onto the elders staff, where the luminescent light sparkled from the short distant. It was odd, seeing a wizard use a staff instead of a wand.

It must have been so much bulkier and harder to carry around, Harry mused. Then again, it was probably more potent and powerful.

He knew very little of this wizard, nor his companions. The two 'Halflings' as Gandalf had referred to them just yesterday, were comical and hardly fighters. He had no idea why they were tagging along on a dangerous journey through the woods. If this 'one ring' was really as dangerous as they deemed it to be, then why would they be willing to endanger themselves, especially without actual knowledge of what they faced?

Unless, Harry thought to himself, they were pushed into the situation as I had been in my world. No choice, no decisions, just… BAM. Right in the middle of the mess.

This made Harry smile grimly now, realizing that he too had been forced into this mess. He knew very little of what lie in this world and it seemed that he'd be following this broken part of the fellowship around for some time; at least until something else came along.

If this world was really as Gandalf had said it to be, then this Sauron was their version of his Voldemort. If he really wanted the 'one ring' for himself, then this group was definitely hunted. By what and whom, exactly, Harry didn't know. He couldn't imagine anything worse than the horrid Orc's from before.

"Bollocks," he whispered into the dark, his gaze shifting into the dense setting of trees around him. The night was silent besides the quiet snores of his companions and the soft crackle of the fire.

It was almost eerie. He never noticed it before - maybe that was only because he felt safe with Ashtwig but now he fully understood why this forest was mentioned to be dangerous. Who knew what lurked in the shadows? Who knew what Middle Earth creatures waited out there that he could not sense. He hadn't been able to sense the Orcs until they were right up on him. That was an experience he would rather not encounter again.

He shivered now, imagining the grizzly war cries from the nasty beasts. The stench. The death and destruction they brought with them.

But this night was different, he noted, his gaze drifting to the dark foliage across from the fire. There was something in the air that he couldn't put his finger on. It didn't feel good. He fingered his wand in its holster, making sure it was with him.

A soft flutter from above drew his attention. Iris had landed on a branch above Harry, a mouse in her beak. She cooed softly, then soared down to land on the ground next to the blonde boy.

"Hey girl," he said softly, reaching out to stroke her on the head. She nipped gently at his fingers, before turning her attention to her meal.

Harry relaxed. She would be staying with him the rest of the night, he knew. He leaned back a bit against the rough bark of the large tree behind him and sighed. There would be no sleep for him this night. At least the others would get their rest.

But as the night drew on, Harry just couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. It was like an ominous cloud of foreboding lingered on the horizon, waiting for the 'morn.

So he waited, a drowsiness slowly encasing him, hoping that everything would be alright.

There was fire and destruction everywhere.

He'd never felt such an extreme amount of despair and horror - it coursed through him against his own will.

He was flying; shifting through broken landscapes faster than he could keep up with. There was smoke, terror, and fire everywhere. The ground was scattered with ghastly beasts and screams from terrified victims.

But that's not what caught Harry's attention.

He felt it - searching, looking; what was searching, he couldn't figure out.

He blinked and found himself atop a high black tower, looming over a vast construction where Orc's lumbered, metal clanged, and the stench of darkness loomed. His heart jumped into his throat - it was so horrible. The wind blasted at his face, howling angrily at the world. Lightning struck in the distance over the horizon. He did not like what he saw there.

He wanted to run away as fast as he could but he was held, rooted to the spot. Then, as if something had sensed his desperation to escape, he found himself completely engulfed in a red hue, like a giant, molten fire. It was the epitome of Hell; then he saw it - the searcher.

It had found him.

A great eye stared back at him, whispering foreign words to him, willing him - persuading him. He felt drawn to the eye, even as terror and revulsion swept through his form. He tried to tear his eyes away from the frightening thing, but the more he struggled, the further he was drawn in. He was overwhelmed to the point where he was almost panicking.

"NO!" he heard himself shout over the horrible wind.

"… find me the ring…"

"NO!" he found himself shouting. It was almost as if his shout had silenced it all. There was no wind, no voice. The eye was gone.

In fact, he was sitting upright, having jolted upwards from what had apparently been a dream.

"Young master Harry, are you alright?" he heard a voice next to him and whipped his head around. Gandalf had hurried to his side.

"Y-yeah," he began, his voice slightly hoarse. "I'm fine."

"Hmm."

"Seriously, sir, I'm fine. Honestly," Harry insisted, feeling his face flush. Why was he cursed into having bad nightmares for the majority of his life?

"I'd beg a different story, Harry," the elder wizard insisted, his bushy eyebrows raising in accusation. "Your shout could raise the spirits of the dead, had there been any around this dreaded place."

The boy flushed deeply. "I just had a odd dream."

"Indeed," was all the wizard said. He stepped away from Harry, pulling a pipe out of a pocket. Harry watched as he lit it and took a deep drag. "It would be time we woke the others to break a quick fast before we head out for the 'morn. I would like to leave this forest behind me soon…"

Harry nodded readily, happy to change the subject. As the elder turned his back, he shuddered violently. He couldn't shake off the feeling that his nightmare had been a bad omen of sorts. Instinct told him to wary this day.

The next hour included waking Merry and Pippin up, although how they slept through his mishap he wouldn't understand, getting them to eat leftover berries and vegetable stew from the night before. As they washed and gathered up what little they had, Harry called for Iris.

She flew down from her perch atop a large oak tree and rested on Harry's shoulder. "Girl, help me keep an eye out today. I don't have a good feeling."

She nipped his ear slightly and took off again in an affirmative.

Harry checked to make sure his wand and sword was in the proper place. He was ready for whatever the day would bring.

It was late afternoon by the time they rested again. Harry was feeling exhausted now, having slept very little the night before. The others must have felt the same because there was hardly any talk and the hobbits, who usually chattered nonchalantly were depressingly quiet. The air felt thick and made it hard for him to concentrate, and he could tell that Gandalf felt it too.

"There's something amiss," Harry intoned quietly, observing his surroundings as he sat on a small boulder.

"Hmm, yes my boy, I think you are right," Gandalf agreed, puffing on his pipe again. "There is an evil presence lurking about."

Harry's heart skipped. The image of Orc's filled his mind. "What do you mean? Are there creatures out here?"

The wizard was quiet a moment before he said, "Alas, I cannot tell you. I have yet to figure it out myself..."

Harry decided to concentrate. He scanned the tree line, taking his time to study the pulsing life that surrounded the party. There was nothing amiss, it seemed, to him. Iris had flown ahead a bit, scouting ahead, he assumed. They were silent for a long while, listening to the soft breeze rustling the many leaves overhead. After a while, the silence was broken by one of the Halflings.

"Master Harry," Merry began, his voice a bit matter-of-factly.

He jumped, unaware that the Halfling had come up beside him.

"Just Harry, please," he corrected, inwardly wincing at the title.

"Pippin said you'd show him some of your fancy magic sometime."

"Oh, er'…" Harry looked at Gandalf uncertainly. The elder just smiled and inclined his head towards Harry, who promptly looked back at Merry. He had a feeling that Gandalf himself wanted to see the extent of his magic, as well. So, slight hesitation, he asked, "What would you like to, uh, see?"Pippin's head snapped up quickly from his seat not too far away. "What can you do?"

Harry raked his mind for simple spells. He thought of a few charms he'd used in Flitwick's class and a fair few transfiguration spells, so he reached over and grabbed a fist sized rock off the ground. He sat it in his lap and snapped his wand out of its homemade holster.

At this, Gandalf even watched in earnest. Harry pointed the tip of his wand at the rock and whispered an incantation, "Avifors!" and before their eyes it shifted shape until it was morphed into a animated bird. It was slightly squat, with a grainy texture to its wings, but it nonetheless chirped out a soft note and fluffed its wings. Its beady eyes watched him with interest.

"WOW!" Pippin exclaimed, leaping up to examine the bird with earnest.

"Extraordinary!" Merry stared in awe as the rock-turned-bird. "Imagine that, Pip! Turning a ordinary rock into a bird!"

"Quite the accomplishment," Gandalf murmured. Even he got up to examine the transfiguration with curiosity. "Does it react as if it were a real bird?"

Harry shrugged, "More or less. After a while it will turn back into a rock, but until then, I'm sure it can fly and stuff."

He watched as Pippin prodded it with his finger, almost as if he were scared to touch it, and the rock-turned-creature let out a squawk before hobbling out of Harry's lap and taking flight before landing several yards away.

"What else can you do?" Merry questioned, excited.

"Oh, just little tricks," Harry muttered. He pointed his wand at a strange looking fruit that hung from a tree that was a fair distance from them. "Accio, fruit!"

The fruit snapped off its stem and came flying towards them, the Hobbits ducking while Harry reached out to catch it in his hand. "I know a lot of small. handy magic. I can make things float, hover, I can transfigure several different things, I can make some potions, and of course, there's the mandatory defensive and offensive spells and hexes."

"What's a hex?" Pippin inquired, dumbfounded.

"Something I'd rather only use on an enemy," he answered with a slight grin before he pointed his wand at Merry and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The Hobbit promptly lifted off the ground slowly and squealed loudly in horror. "What are you doing? Let me down! Pippin, help!"

Gandalf snorted as Harry hovered him four feet off the ground, moving him around Pippin as the smaller Hobbit tried to jump up and pull him down. After about a minute of this, he let Merry go.

"Now that was uncalled for, that was," his chest puffed out indignantly when his feet were safely on the ground again.

Pippin turned large eyes on Harry. "Please don't do that to me, Master Harry!"

Harry laughed. Merry glared at the both of them but couldn't help but slip out a small grin, himself.

They all laughed for a while. They carried on for a while longer until Harry hushed them. He'd just heard a loud screech from a couple meters away. He snapped his head up and stared through the pulsing foliage in the distance. He could make out the form of Iris flapping crazily through the trees, giving out calls of distress.

Harry hopped up just as Gandalf did. The Hobbits looked around nervously and Harry strained his ears. He heard something - it was a distant thrum of what sounded like metal hacking at wood; his legs felt like lead.

"I think we have company," Harry began nervously, gripping onto his wand tightly. His other hand reached to the hilt of Godric Griffindors sword.

Gandalf took on an instant air of authority. "Stand back, Hobbits. Get behind Harry and I."

They did just that, and Iris landed in a tree, frantic. She screeched, looking down at Harry. He glanced up, noting that she was panicked herself, having been frightened by the obvious pulsation of her life-form.

Nothing good could come from this, he realized. He recognized the sound from ahead - it was Orc's and by the sound of it, there were quite a few of them.

It didn't take long, as Iris' screeching had alerted the enemy that something was awry. It seemed like only seconds later, there was a great thrashing and Harry had to concentrate on the direction in which the noise came from to be able and zone in on the enemy's.

"Are those Orcs?" Harry asked, petrified. The stench was already wafting towards them.

"Uruk-hai," Gandalf said tightly.

He understood. They were larger than the ones he remembered ecountering.

"It's them!" Pippin yelped in horror. "Those were in the party that kidnapped us!"

Gandalf turned to them, "Fly, fool! Go back the way we came! They will only take you again!"

The Hobbits hesitated, and Harry shouted for them to go, mimicking Gandalf's authority. They didn't need to be told once more, as they bolted in the direction in which they came.

"I hope you're ready for this, Harry," Gandalf said, his voice grave.

Harry only nodded, and didn't have time to say anything as they burst through the undergrowth with leers of disgust and malicious joy, waving jagged weapon at them. There seemed to be a leader, who was the largest one of them all.

"Get the Hobbits!" the foul voice ground out roughly.

So they'd seen them. Harry cursed himself, before taking a fighting stance. He had only seconds to react before the Uruk-hai were on them and he shot off a series of spells.

"Expelliarmus! STUPIFY!"

Left and right he aimed, hitting several of them with the magic but he soon became confused, being unable to see them well. They would fall disgustingly to the ground, or their weapons would be wrenched out of their hands and their growls of anger sent his hair on end. In truth, he was scared witless, but the adrenaline was kicking in and he felt his blood pulsing in his temples. He wanted revenge on these creatures for taking over the forest.

He glanced at Gandalf, who was using his staff as a weapon over using spells. Harry made the mistake of staring for too long and a stray arrow caught him in the left shoulder. He let out a loud gasp and cast a late 'protego' charm on himself, just in time to block out another stray arrow.

He staggered slightly but flicked his wand, disarming another Uruk-hai. It leered at him stupidly and ripped a knife out of a holster on its waist and advanced on Harry. He could tell by the dense void of air that these were definitely foul creatures. They didn't pulse with life at all. It was as if there was a hole cut into the air in the shape of a deformed human.

He staggered back, his mind racing for a quick spell. "REDUCTO!"

The advancing Uruk promptly exploded out of his way. This caused a confused riot as the other Uruk-hai turned their attention to the explosion.

Harry was momentarily in a daze, the pain in his shoulder making him dizzy. He never imagined it would hurt so much. He staggered, reality becoming a vague thing. He glanced down at the arrow and noticed a purplish-black liquid oozing down the arrow shaft and his heart skipped. Was this arrow laced? Time seemed to slow down, and he felt sluggish. He lifted his wand up to cast another spell, knowing deep down he didn't have much time before he would be struck again if he didn't do anything.

He sent another 'reducto' spell out, effectively hitting another of the foul creatures. He heard Gandalf shout something, but at that moment, his hearing became muffled and he swore he could hear ringing. He stumbled again and his focus left him. He couldn't see well in the first place, now the pulsing life around him seemed to just fall in and out of his vision.

In a last attempt to help himself, he cast one more shield charm on himself, before his world faded completely black, and unconsciousness overtook him.

-----------

He felt warm. There was a blinding light behind his eyelids and he scrunched them up, turning his head to the side. He groaned at the pain that it caused him.

That was when he noticed just how sore he was. His whole body felt as if he'd fallen off a cliff. If he didn't know any better, he'd think all his bones were broken. His skin felt clammy, and he noticed with the movement of his head that his hair was coated in sweat.

"Uhn," he groaned. What had happened?

It took him a minute for the memories to kick in and flood his head, and when he realized that they'd been attacked by a party of Uruk-hai, as Gandalf had called them, and he practically shot up where he lay. That was a mistake.

He let out a loud gasping cry as a searing pain resided from his shoulder, causing him to fall back in a spasm.

"Mellon-nin," said a strange male voice. "Calm. Do not sit up."

"Ugh," was all Harry could say, his forehead breaking out in a new layer of sweat. His breath became ragged. The pain was so intense it made his body shake violently.

"Legolas, bring those herbs over here," the voice said again, commanding, and after a moment he felt something being pressed into the wound in his shoulder.

He clenched his teeth shut, and groaned slightly, his fingers digging into the dirt. Where was he and who were these people? Where were Gandalf and the Hobbits? He opened his eyes and found that he was still in the forest, the blinding light being that of the treetops in what appeared to be mid-afternoon.

He could only make out the figure of what appeared to be a full grown man, whom was leaning over him and prodding his wound.

"Who are you?" Harry managed to ground out. He had to admit, he was petrified. He was in pain, couldn't get up for the life of him, and these were strangers in a land of beasts. He tried to scoot himself away from the strangers but failed.

"Some call me Strider," the stranger responded calmly, resting his hands on the boys good shoulder. "Do not worry, Gandalf is here, if that is what you worry about. He is only beyond that grove."

Harry couldn't respond, as there was a severe stinging sensation in his shoulder where the man had put something in the cut. The pain was intense and he felt his body convulse slightly. Had he been poisoned from the arrow that hit him?

As he convulsed, he felt the sudden urge to vomit. He had to roll over, the throbbing from the lesion causing him to dry heave violently into the grass next to him. When that subsided he lay there, feeling as if unconsciousness was about to overtake him once more.

"Here, drink this," the man named Strider said, pressing something up against his lips. Harry didn't argue - he was parched. He drank from the canister that was held up to him and tasted lukewarm water.

It was the epitome of heaven, to him. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was.

When he couldn't drink anymore and nearly gagged on what was already in his mouth, the stranger took the canister away and pushed him gently to the ground again.

"Do not move if you can prevent it, Melon-nin. You are seriously injured."

Well, that was a no-brainer. "Where is my wand?" he rasped out.

"Wand?"

"Short… staff, stick, whatever," Harry groaned again.

"Oh, this," said another strange, airy voice. He glanced tiredly to where the voice came from and saw a stunningly beautiful life aura emitting from a tall, lithe figure. "Gandalf said he would want it when he woke."

He was handed his wand and Harry forced himself to sit up, against the protests of Strider. "Was I poisoned?"

"Yes, but we believe Gandalf was able to get most of it out," Strider told him. "The wound is very deep and your body is weak from the effects of the poison from when it was in your blood."

Harry fought a wave of dizziness again. He reached up with his left hand, feeling for the wound on his shoulder. It felt dirty and grimy. He pointed his wand to the wound gently.

"Scourgify," he whispered, and he instantly felt the grime disappear. He would then close his eyes and concentrate, whispering, "Episkey…"

He was too weak and when the spell took effect, he found himself falling into a world of blackness once more.

------

Aragorn watched the boy with unsure curiosity. He had forced himself to sit up again, and he wasn't sure if he should force the child to lay back down. He didn't want to cause him any more harm, since he didn't know who he or Legolas was.

When he asked for his 'wand', he was surprised. Of all things to ask for, why a stick? Aragorn had seen almost everything, but never had he dealt with a person so injured they asked for a stick. Nonetheless, Legolas retrieved it for him.

What he didn't expect was what the boy did with it. It boggled his mind that he found him pointing the tip of the stick to his chest at the wound, and whispered something quietly. He was astonished when the wound became clean, the dirt and grime disappearing in a quick second.

He blinked, holding his breath. He knew that the elf was watching as well and he glanced up. They shared mutual confused stare, then turned their attention back to the boy.

He was paler in the face, his body shaking, but he refused to lay back down. He whispered something else, and Aragorn watched, astonished, as the wound magically healed up, vanishing without even a scar.

It only took him a second to realize, though, that the boy had passed out. Luckily, Legolas' reflexes were faster and he caught the boys shoulders before he hit the ground too hard. They lay him back down on the ground, glancing at each other again.

"So, Gandalf said he was an Istari… and now I believe him," the elf intoned quietly, his eyebrows rose.

Aragorn nodded in agreement. "Indeed, I would not have believed it myself if I had not just witnessed this… magic."

A moment later, Gandalf was seen making his way back towards the other three. He had a grave look on his face and the ranger knew, then, that finding the Hobbits had been futile.

"Alas, our friends have disappeared once again."

"I would hope that the Uruk-hai did not find them this time and they're merely lost," Aragorn said, but his heart sank. Legolas voiced his inner thoughts.

"In a forest like this, two hobbits would have to have the luck of the elves to survive."

"Then lets hope they fly," Gandalf intoned gravely. "These forests are not safe for anyone, in these dark times…"

They all exchanged a look, their faces grave, then turned their attention on the ragged breathing Harry. None of them knew much about this stranger, but he might just prove to be a strong ally.