Authors Note: I realise that it's been a bit since I've updated, and I do apologies for how long it's taken...but I went on vacation over the summer and sadly school started back up again (Ugh.) Unfortunately, that means updates will be a tad slower during the semester, but hopefully not nonexistent. That being said, I hope you all are enjoying the story so far and as always comments are appreciated, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: Once again, Harry Potter and his universe were created by the wonderful J.K. Rowling. The Hobbit, and all characters associated with his writing are the work of the brilliant and masterful J.R.R Tolkien.

Everything else belongs to me.

In a matter of second Lila went from a deep and incredibly troubled sleep to wakefulness, though those around her would have hardly realised that she was awake. She remained completely still on the makeshift pallet situated a little way from the fire. The only outwards sign that she was no longer asleep was the sudden change in how she was breathing and the fact that pretty much every muscle in her back and legs had tensed; a physical reaction that said just how angry she was. After a few minutes of breathing to alleviate the sharp and bitter taste of anger in her mouth she lifted her hand and pinched the bridge of her nose in absolute frustration. That, she admitted, could have gone a lot better, way better in fact. Granted, it could have gone a lot worse, but that was something she really didn't want to think about; getting into a physical altercation with the elven king was something she didn't really want to ever think about.

With something of a sigh, she sat up and almost automatically began scratching her head as she mentally kicked herself for acting the way she had. It was true that Thranduil was partially to blame for what had transpired the last few moments in the library (…actually he was mostly to blame but she wasn't going to split hairs) but she could have reacted differently. She'd known once she figured out who he was that it wouldn't be easy going and that the likelihood of her losing her temper would be high. She just didn't realise how high it would be or what a pompous sanctimonious ass the man was. She scratched a little harder than she intended to as the thin chord on her temper frayed a bit. Honestly, how that man had not had his eyebrows blasted off years ago or worse that arrogant face was beyond her. Had she had her magic, well, he wouldn't have been so lucky, him or his eyebrows.

She muttered something rude and colourful under her breath and hunched forward, pressing the palm of both of her hands into her eyes. She had so many questions already and her little trip to the library had only created more. Why would Galadriel bring her there and not come herself? Why would she bring Thranduil of all people? What was in that book? Would she be going back to the library? More importantly, would Thranduil be there as well? There were so many questions without answers and Lila didn't know where to begin to look for the answers, or if any of them could be answered. She felt like Hermione when faced with the idea of not knowing an answer to a question; fearful that the information she didn't know could potentially put her friends and family at risk. It was not a feeling that she relished and if she was completely honest it was one she was experiencing with an increasing frequency…and she was not at all happy about it.

"Is something troubling you?" Gandalf's voice was like a balm and as if by magic (which was entirely possible) any residual apprehension she may have felt dissipated.

She shook her head. "I just have more questions than I do answers and it's a little irritating." She paused when something occurred to her and turned to face him. "Speaking of questions, I don't have the answer to…" She eyed him speculatively. "Why can't I sense the full strength of your magic?"

Her questions must have startled him because he blinked at her. "Sense my magic my dear?"

"I have what's called magic sensitivity." At his confused expression she went on to explain. "It is not uncommon for wizards and witches in my world to be able to sense magic to some degree. However, there are those who can always sense it, no matter how strong the magic is." She absently itched at the wool cap as she thought of how best to explain this next part. "In some, the sensitivity is a mild irritant, something like a slight headache, and in others it can render them unconscious." She gave him something of a smile. "I've never passed out before but there have been one or two close calls." She eyed him. "When we first met I should have been flat on my back and I should still have a headache, rather than the slight irritant I have now."

Gandalf looked thoughtful as he puffed on his pipe. "I of course can't be certain but perhaps the reason that you can't sense my magic is because my staff not only limits an Istari's power but conceals its strength as well."

Lila had not even thought of the staff, but she supposed it made sense. "Well, whatever the reason is I'm glad that I can't sense it because I really don't enjoy the headaches." She said with an amused expression. "and something tells me they would have been the type to make me grumpy and unbearable for a few days."

He chuckled softly. "Well, I am glad for it as well." His eyes twinkled. "I believe one grumpy and unbearable individual in our company is plenty enough."

Lila chuckled and didn't bother asking who he was talking about. There was really no need when they both knew that he was talking about the king under the mountain; or as Ginny called him 'high king of the wankers'.

"Yes, I do believe you're..."

The high pitch screech had her trailing off and automatically reaching for the dagger on her hip…and for good reason. The unearthly wail didn't exactly belong to a unicorn and it was known to kill anything –as her brother so humorously phrased it – that wasn't as ugly as them. She no more wanted to come across one so soon after her first run in with them, than she wanted to run into Smaug.

"What was that?" The fear in Bilbo's voice was evident and unsurprising. The hobbit had never been past the boarders of the Shire and so it was unlikely that he'd ever seen such a creature. Lila wasn't certain what the next few months would bring but she hoped that the hobbit would be able to handle it.

"Orcs." She eyed Fili, not sure she cared for the mischievous glint in his eyes. It was no secret that both brothers had a mischievous streak and enjoyed playing tricks. They weren't nearly as bad as the twins (which she accredited to lack of magic and puking pastilles) were, but they weren't exactly angels either. The second screech from the orcs managed to wake Thorin from his sleep and put him on alert as well, his hand instinctively reaching for the blade at his hip.

"Orcs?" Bilbo said as he quickly scurried away from the horses and back towards the fire. She was half tempted to tell the young hobbit that the orcs were at least a mile and half from where they were by the sound of it, but she knew whatever comfort she tried to offer him would only incur the wrath of Thorin. The king Under the Mountain had taken an even stronger dislike to the idea of the hobbit going on their journey than he had another witch joining them; and he did not hesitate to let the hobbit know just how he felt.

"Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them." Fili said, adding his little part to the teasing. The urge to either interject or box the two trouble maker's ears increased, and it was all Lila could do to keep her mouth shut and her fists to herself.

"They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood."

She exchanged an irritated look with Gandalf as both dwarves exchanged looks of their own before laughing. At this point Lila wasn't sure what was more irritating, the fact that they were teasing Bilbo, or the fact that they were joking about orcs; and clearly, she wasn't the only one who thought it was in poor taste. At least she wasn't if Thorin's expression was anything to go by.

"You think that's funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" He asked a slight edge to his voice and a disapproving look on his face as he gazed at the two dwarves.

"We didn't mean anything by it." Kíli mumbled as he avoided looking directly at his uncle.

"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world." They both shifted uncomfortably as Thorin turned and walked off, his shoulders tense, and a somber look no doubt on his face. She couldn't be certain whether she was right, but she suspected that his reaction to Fili's and Kíli's comments had to do with what him and his kin had suffered at the hands of orcs; events the young dwarves apparently knew nothing about or had forgotten about.

"Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs." Balin said in an effort to alleviate the tense atmosphere. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs lead by the most vile of all their race: Azog, the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the King…."

Despite the fact she already knew the events that had occurred all those years ago Lila sat there in absolute amazement and soaked up the story, the picture in her head so vivid in detail that it felt as if she were right alongside Thorin and his men, fighting for their home and feeling the keen sting of loss as Thror and Thrain gave their lives to the cause. She was so caught up with listening to the story that she didn't even notice the startled looks her own companions were giving her. She was completely moved when one by one the dwarves stood to face the king under the mountain in silent respect. It was a testament to the man he was and the king that he would be once he reclaimed his throne.

"But the pale orc? What happened to him?" She glanced at Balin, having wondered the same question on more than one occasion.

It was Thorin who answered that question and he spoke with a wealth of venom in his voice that left little doubt in anyone's mind how he felt. "He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago."

And yet the expression on Gandalf's face would suggest otherwise, she thought as she caught the look he exchanged with Balin.

"I believe something is wrong with your companions." Gandalf said once everyone had resumed the positions they had been in before the story had started.

She blinked away her concerns for the moment and focused her attention back on Gandalf. "Hmmm?" At her confusion he motioned with his pipe in the direction most of her friends were in and it was then that she finally saw that every single one of her friends were staring at her with a different expression; and none of them gave her a warm squishy feeling.

Fuck