Remember how I said that I liked to torture my OCs? Well here's a perfect example of that. Oh, come on! Aparating is tricky enough magic as it is, but doing it without a wand? Something was bound to go wrong ;)

You have no idea how pleased I am that Cassie is not giving off a Mary-Sue vibe. Please let me know immediately if that ever changes.

Between You and Me

Darkness engulfed me along with the sensation of being pressed very hard from all directions. I felt as if I were being forced down a narrow tube. My chest tightened, my eyes watered as they were pushed back into my skull; my ears were ringing, and I couldn't breathe.

I felt Bilbo stiffen underneath me and knew that the hobbit was feeling it too.

But something was very wrong.

This was taking far too long. I felt as though my body were being twisted in several directions at once. The uncomfortable compressing intensified and I wondered if I was going to suffocate. I couldn't see or breathe. The world was slipping away. My only anchor to reality was my tight grip on Bilbo's coat.

I squeezed my fingers and pulled. Sweet Merlin, please let it end!

There was a horribly loud ripping noise and for a second, I wondered if I'd somehow managed to tear the hobbit's coat. And then the right side of my head was alive with pain. I would have screamed if I'd been able to suck in air, but my lungs were squeezed of all their oxygen and all I could manage was a choked sob.

Get out! My brain shrieked desperately. Get out NOW!

My head spun from lack of oxygen and the sheer intensity of the pain – like fire licking up the side of my face – and suddenly with an almighty crack it was all over just as quickly as it had started, and I was left gasping for breath, clutching my head as I collapsed sideways.

My eyesight was hazy and distorted, ears pounding from the erratic beating of my heart. Something hot and sticky was oozing between my fingers. I raised them shakily before me and saw that my hand was red with blood. I gritted my teeth against a scream. Merlin, it hurt.

"Cassie! Bilbo!" Someone was shouting.

Something twitched beside me. I pushed myself to my knees, wincing when the simple movement resulted in my head throbbing and more blood trickling down my shoulder, and took in the scene with wide-eyed bewilderment. The clearing was now bathed in sunlight and birds were chirping from the branches above. Bilbo lay beside me, white as a sheet and trembling violently. He groaned, and for a second I was afraid I hadn't apparated fast enough, that the troll had somehow gotten past me and injured the hobbit without me noticing. Then his eyes fluttered open, wide and unfocused, to find my face hovering above his. He blanched, gazed fixed on a spot a little to the right of my head, where the pain was still burning.

"Are you all right?" I rasped.

He managed to nod but his face lost none of its horrified expression. He's in shock, I realized.

Then someone seized me by the shoulders, jerking my gaze away. I fought back blindly, yelping with surprise, convinced that it was the troll about to finish what he'd started. My nails made contact with flesh and I lashed out, scratching my attacker. The hands holding me fell back and a string of curses reached my ears.

"Someone get Oin over here!" the voice called. "The girl is injured and she won't let me take a look!"

Injured? My gaze trailed about my immediate surroundings, falling on the spot where the hobbit and I had been crouched moments before – and I was surprised to see that we'd hardly moved at all, barely a few feet in fact, just enough to pull us out of harm's way. A gigantic stone fist was hovering above the ground. It was attached to an arm, which was attached to a shoulder belonging to a massive troll frozen in place by the sunlight, its ugly head turned upwards, snarling ferociously.

My gaze traveled downwards, spotting something in the earth below. It was a small and gruesome clump of flesh lying in a pool of blood and grime. I could make out something pale poking out of the lump and realized with a sickening feeling that it a bit of cartilage.

My insides crawled unpleasantly as I realized what had happened. My hand darted reflexively to my right ear which was throbbing painfully, feeling the blood dripping down the side of my neck and bridging the mental gap.

I'd splinched myself.

"Dori!" a gruff voice called. I tore my eyes away from the chunk of ear to see that Oin was marching towards us. "Run back to the camp and fetch my medical pack," he instructed. He reached out and grabbed my chin, forcing my head to the side so that he could see the extent of the injury. I cringed and tried to pull back but the dwarf held on tight, placing his other hand behind my head to prevent me from jerking away.

"Now then, Cassie," he growled. "Be still while I assess the damage." A low whistle. "How did it happen?"

Huh? My thoughts were muddled, but I could tell something was wrong with his question. What is he talking about? Didn't he see what happened? I glanced around the clearing. Most of the dwarves had managed to free themselves by now and were either assisting those still in sacs, or running around the fire and dowsing the flames. No one was sharpening their pitchforks or raising a pyre to burn me on, so I assumed that they had somehow managed to miss the fact that I'd disappeared from one spot and reappeared in another, hauling Bilbo's ass along with me. Something must have distracted them just long enough for my apparition to pass unnoticed.

My gaze focused on a huge bolder that appeared to have recently been split in two. Well, that would have done the trick.

"Um, I'm not sure." My words sounded sluggish. I swallowed, trying to straighten my thoughts as my ear throbbed painfully. Think fast, Cass. "It all went pretty fast. I think the troll managed to take a swipe at me before I pulled us away."

"How odd," Oin muttered, poking the area around my exposed flesh. I winced. "It almost looks as though the tissue was removed with a sharp implement. It is very fortunate indeed that you were not struck lower. The blow would have most likely killed you," he said seriously.

I felt a slight pressure on my hand. "You can let go of him, lassie," Balin said as he tried to pry my fingers away from the hobbit's coat. "You're both safe now." There was no anger in his voice, no suspicion. Miraculously, my secret was still safe.

Bilbo groaned loudly.

Well, I amended, mostly safe. I tightened my grip, unwilling to let the sole witness of my witchcraft out of sight.

"Cassie," the old dwarf repeated slowly, as if he were trying to calm a wild animal, pulling gently at my fingers. "You can let go." He obviously thought I was having some kind of breakdown.

He couldn't have been more wrong. I had recovered from the initial shock of splinching and my mind was racing. Bilbo saw you. Bilbo knows.

And I had to find a way to make sure Bilbo kept quiet about it. Although, by the looks of it the hobbit would have been incapable of blabbing even if he'd wanted to. He was still sprawled on the ground, twitching every now and then.

I reluctantly relinquished my grip and watched as Balin pulled the hobbit into a sitting position. "Mister Baggins?" No response. Bilbo was still too shaken to speak. Good.

"What happened?" I asked hoarsely, keeping my gaze fixed on the hobbit as Balin tried to get something out of him, ready to jump in at the slightest sign that Bilbo had recovered his ability to speak. Don't give them the chance to interrogate him. Keep them distracted. "Who split the boulder?"

"That was Gandalf's doing. Very impressive too. He appeared atop of the rock, sky ablaze behind him, and fractured it with his staff as if it had been naught but sand. And just in time, if you ask me. If he had waited but moment longer you would have been a goner."

I glanced at the wizard who was on the other side of the clearing, in deep conversation with Thorin. Talk about a penchant for the dramatics. No wonder the dwarves' attention had been elsewhere. As if he's sensed my gaze, Gandalf raised his eyes and met mine. He winked. I couldn't help but feel a little disgruntled. That was his big plan? Crack a rock in half and let that the sunlight do the rest? Was it too much to ask that he let me in on his strategy instead of giving me some vague instruction to 'keep them distracted' while he worked some big mumbo-jumbo to save the day?

Dori arrived at that moment with Oin's medical kid and the healer set to work cleaning my mangled ear. Once the bleeding had stopped, he insisted I leave the wound in the open to allow the draining of any pus resulting from infection. I was only half listening to the dwarf's instructions, my gaze fixed on Bilbo who had been propped unceremoniously against a nearby tree trunk. No one had been able to get a word out of him since I'd let go of his coat and he was now sitting with his head between his knees, breathing heavily. It was a little pathetic, actually.

Give him a break, Cass. You weren't faring too well after your first slide-along apparition either.

By then most of the dwarves had left the clearing in search of the trolls' cave. According to the wizard, they would have needed a place to hide out during the daytime. I didn't know what was so appealing about a troll's lair but I was grateful that they were evacuating the premises. Oin, however, stubbornly remained, despite my assurances that was fine and didn't need him breathing down my neck. I was getting more and more nervous by the minute. I needed to be alone with the hobbit.

It was only when Ori returned, his face alight with excitement, that I saw my chance.

"We found the cave!" the young dwarf exclaimed as soon as we were in earshot. "It's filled with all kinds of treasure! The trolls hoarded all the possessions of their victims."

At these words, Oin's eyes lit up with the kind of interest only a dwarf at the mention of gold could muster. He glanced quickly in my direction.

I jumped at the opportunity. 'Go. My injury isn't life-threatening." When he hesitated I waggled my left hand, showing off my missing fingers. "This is nothing. I've had far worse, believe me."

Oin seemed to be debating with himself. Just as I was beginning to think his concern of a patient might override his love of gold, he nodded and said, "Come to me immediately if the wound starts to swell."

I nodded. He gave a satisfied grunt and followed Ori out of the clearing without a backwards glance. We were finally alone. I waited until his footsteps had retreated before jumping to my feet and rounding on the hobbit, who hadn't moved at all during the exchange.

"Bilbo?"

No answer. I approached cautiously, not wanting to alarm the hobbit. I could see his shoulders slowly rising and falling as he took in deep gulps of air. "Bilbo?" I tried again, louder. "Hey, Bilbo, how are you holding up?"

Stupid question, I know, but I needed some sigh that my poor attempt at aparating hadn't addled his brains or anything. Is that even possible? As pondered that troubling thought, the full realization of what I'd achieved hit me like a charging hippogriff.

I'd just apparated. Without a wand. Suddenly, I was flooded by a strong and intoxicating surge of victory. I'd done it. I'd really done it! After weeks of sneaking about, of futile casting, of praying for a miracle, my magic had finally manifested itself. And the only person take notice was currently in the middle of a full-blown panic attack. How very… anticlimactic.

I snapped my fingers in front of the hobbit's face. "Come on Bilbo, snap out of it. We need to talk about this." Seizing him by the arm, I hurled him to his feet. This seemed to jerk some sense into him. I watched warily as he swayed, ready to catch him if he showed the slightest sign of fainting, but he willfully stood his ground.

"Okay," I said, "You're doing great. How are you feeling?"

The hobbit raised his eyes to meet mine, took a deep breath, opened his mouth…

…and threw up all over the ground. I leaped back just in the nick of time, avoiding the worst of the splatter as Bilbo fell to his knees, retching. Well, I thought wryly, I guess that answer's that question.

It took a good five minutes for Bilbo's stomach to finally run dry. I hovered at his side the whole while, awkwardly patting his back, unsure of what else I could do. I'd never been very good at comforting people and watching the hobbit as he heaved up his dinner was making me extremely uncomfortable. I briefly considered the verbal approach, but couldn't think of anything soothing to say. Showing weakness was a big no-go on my list, so being confronted with someone else's weakness was nothing short of unsettling. Nothing like this would ever have gone down in Slytherin.

Fortunately, the hobbit's vomiting fit seemed to help him gain back a little of his composure and restore the use of his vocal cords. "Wh-what did you do?" he spluttered, gingerly accepting my hand and pulling himself to his feet. His still looked a little shaky, but some of the color was returning to his cheeks.

I chose my words carefully. "What exactly do you remember?" Was it too much to hope that he had blanked out? I had barely apparated five feet. Maybe I could convince him that I'd dragged us out of the way. But as I saw the hobbit blanch slightly, I realized there was no way he could have lost consciousness during my stunt. He had felt the unnaturally long jump through space, although thankfully he had been spared from the nasty side-affects.

He licked his dry lips. "The troll was about to crush us and then…" he trailed off, unable to formulate an accurate description of what he'd experienced. "It-it felt like…" He shuddered. "How did we move?"

Lie to him. I pushed the instinctive thought away. No. Lying at this stage would only tip him off and I couldn't afford to make him any more suspicious. One word of this to Thorin would be enough to bring me down. The best I could hope for was to make an ally out of him. He doesn't need the whole truth. Just enough to satisfy his curiosity.

I selected my words cautiously. "We…apparated. Meaning that we disappeared from one place and reappeared in another. It's hard to explain. But listen," I got down on one knee so as to be on eye level with him and spoke urgently. "Listen to me Bilbo, this is important." I latched onto his gaze. "You can't tell the others. Especially Thorin."

The hobbit looked confused and a little alarmed. "Why not?"

I bit back my frustration and took a leap of faith, something I was very unaccustomed to doing. "Because…it would mean trouble. For me. You heard what they think about…witches."

I held my breath as I watched the words sink in. Bilbo's eyes widened slightly. "You're a witch?"

I rose to my feet. "Yes. Promise you won't say anything. To anybody. Not even the wizard."

"But-"

"But nothing," I growled, suddenly impatient. The part of my brain dedicated to survival was screaming at me to take control. This isn't going to work, Cass! You can't trust him to keep quiet about something like this. As usual, it prevailed. I had to find another way to insure myself of his silence.

Fear is a good motivator.

I quickly modeled my face into a mask of cold, detached indifference, letting the Slytherin inside me take over. When I spoke again, my voice was low and menacing. "You've seen what I can do. You know what I'm capable of. Tell no one." I loomed over him. "I just saved your life Bilbo Baggins. Don't make me regret it."

I don't know what I'd expected. The hobbit had been lagging behind from day one and despite Gandalf's continued assurance that it was in his blood, Bilbo clearly wasn't cut out for an adventure of this scale. It was pretty obvious that, given the opportunity, he would leap at the chance to return to the comfort of his hobbit-hole. So I assumed that the not-so-subtle threat from my part would be enough to zip his mouth closed. I guess I should have known better than to underestimate him.

Whatever scenario I'd anticipated, none of them featured Bilbo standing his ground, a thoughtful expression on his face. He tilted his head and gave me a quick, scrutinizing glance over. "How old are you?" he asked suddenly.

Huh? I raised my eyebrows at the unexpected change of subject. "Didn't you hear a word I just said?"

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. His brows furrowed slightly. "Nineteen? Twenty?"

"Eighteen," I replied, completely baffled as to where this was going. "Why does it matter?" Of all the troubling topics that had been raised by the dwarves since our departure – gender, fighting skills – my age had never been an issue. I had chalked it up to the fact that Middle-earth seemed to be akin to a medieval society where children became adults very early in their life. Moreover, I couldn't for the life of me determine the ages of each of the dwarves (I'd been shocked to learn that Kili was almost fifty years old). Maybe it was just as difficult for them to determine my age as I was for me to guess theirs. Besides, it wasn't as if I considered myself as a child – seventeen was the age at which a young witch or wizard became an adult – and as far as I was concerned, my youth had been cut short when I got caught up in the war, as it had been for all those of my generation.

Bilbo looked surprised. "Only eighteen? That's quite young. We Shire-folk consider thirty-three to be the proper number for a hobbit to become of age." His face took on curious expression. He seemed to be seeing me in a new light, and it wasn't intimidating him. "Why…?" He trailed of when he saw my expression, his face melting into a carefully neutral look.

I was seething, fists clenched in indignant rage. I would have liked nothing better than to pound the hobbit into a pulp if I hadn't already gone through all the trouble to keep him alive. I hated this. Hated that I couldn't tell what was going through Bilbo's mind, hated that I was rapidly losing control of the situation, hated the fact that the hobbit now had the upper hand over me. How could I be so stupid to find myself in this situation? I glared and was about to hiss some snarky retort, when I saw something flash across Bilbo's face that stopped me short. Concern? Sympathy? Whatever it was, it had disappeared in a flash as he cleared his throat, stepped around me and started walking away.

"Hey!" I called after him, suddenly alarmed. Where was he going? Wasn't he even going to try blackmailing me before giving me up to the king? "We're not done talking here!"

He paused and shot me a puzzled look from over his shoulder. "Yes we are. You asked me to keep quiet about this whole affair and I shall. No need for threats." He smiled apologetically. "Forgive me Cassie, but you don't strike me as the type to harm a friend."

I watched his retreating figure in open-mouthed astonishment. This has to be some sort of trick. How could he want nothing in exchange for his silence? Didn't he realize what he had over me?

I replayed his words in head, trying to discern a hidden meaning. 'You don't strike me as the type to harm a friend.' Was that what he wanted? For me to be his friend? I gaped at the thought. Is that all he wants? I play nice and everything goes back to the way it was before the whole troll incident? The dwarves would politely ignore us once more, the wizard would go back to being his cryptic self, and Bilbo would persevere in his attempts to get into my good books.

Except now I had no choice but to let him.

Gah! This was a tough chapter to write.

Thanks to all those who reviewed my last chapter. I hope this one wasn't too much of a letdown if you were expecting some kind of big, dramatic confrontation. It's just that I don't think it would be coherent for Cassie to spill her guts right away. As for Bilbo, he's from the Shire. I don't think he's been subjected to all this superstitious nonsense about witches the same way as Thorin and the company has. He doesn't see a problem with Cassie being a witch, but of course, she's too wrapped up in her own mistrust to see that. *Sigh* Will she ever see that not everyone's actions are guided by interior motives?

Please let me know what you think in your reviews!

The next chapter will have more action in it. I just wanted to show how Cassie would react to the fact that she no longer has full control over the situation. Bilbo is now in on her secret, and it's scaring the hell out of her ^^