I apologize to all of you who follow my story! I feel terrible for having left you all in the dark for so long and while I could make my excuses, I'm not going to bore you with any. Anyway, I know that some of you have been asking for romance, well... things will get hot HOT, you'll just have to read and find out.

Love you all!

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Harry Potter hated dwarves; he hated them with a passion. But that was not entirely true. Harry had met and befriended many in the mountain that he had come to care for; what he truly loathed was the dwarves' traditions and customs. He couldn't understand how the dwarves thought and every time that he had made a breakthrough something new would come up and make his life a living hell.

Thorin had insulted him and then called him beautiful. Was he supposed to understand that being called a whore was somehow a complement? He did not think so.

Harry had grown tired of dwarves yet again. He had briefly considered moving again, but he didn't know where he should go or what to expect in this strange world.

Which was why he locked himself in and refused to see anyone who acted and thought like a dwarf. He had closed the door for Ralec, Nori, and Bofur yesterday, and told them to leave him alone for the time being. Later he had to resort to threats, when Bofur came back with his family and then threated to break through his door. Harry knew that they were concerned about his wellbeing but he just needed some time to cool down.

He wasn't just confused about the dwarves' way of life, he was also internally conflicted. He had difficulties controlling his emotions and half the time he couldn't even name or understand what he felt. He blamed it on the dwarf part in him.

While he had locked himself inside his lovely home, he had not been entirely without company the last two days. After Harry had assured Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur that he was in fact fine, another knock had sounded from his front door. Harry had fully expected to slam the door shut, and turn his guest away, but he couldn't make himself do it as he had been faced with Garion and his father, Trion.

Harry's worries had easily been forgotten as Garion told the tale of how he had acquired his wound and then showed Harry the healing stitched on his right leg. With Garion and Trion he needed not worry about acting out of characteristics of a dwarf, it was like he could do no wrong in their company.

Lost in memories from his place on the couch, Harry's train of thought was interrupted when a knock sounded on the front door. It was his first visitor for the day, and he had rather hoped that he would not be disturbed; his friends should have gotten the message across yesterday.

He rose from the couch to open the door. The dwarf on the other side was someone that he didn't recognise. He had a mane of grey hair that didn't wave as the dwarf went down in a curt bow. Harry, who had grown quite a hobby in beard watching, couldn't help but break into a smile at the sight of the braided beard that looked like an incomplete pretzel.

"Oin, son of Groin, at your service," Oin presented himself and Harry quickly bowed down with a similar introduction of his own. The formal introduction was a short procedure and Oin didn't bother to say anything else, much to Harry's confusion. For an awkward and rather long 5 seconds, Harry stood rigid with a tense smile on his face.

"What?" Oin uttered after the long pause, and his furrowed eyebrows were drawn closer to his eyes in an expression that Harry recognised as confusion.

"I am sorry but what?" Harry asked of his own confusion.

"What's your name, laddie?" And Harry, who had already presented himself once, could feel the first signs of irritation hit him. He wasn't entirely sure if he was being made fun of, but the look in Oin's eyes made Harry hope that his question was, in fact, genuine. He took a deep breath to calm his rising nerves but the irritation could still be detected in the slight raise of his voice.

"I'm Harry, son of James, at your service," he repeated for the second time, and this time with success.

"Why didn't you just say so in the beginning?"Oin grumbled to himself but it didn't prevent Harry from hearing it and choosing to ignore the comment.

"Well, what can I do for you?" Harry opted to say instead and this time Oin answered without difficulties.

"I've come to put you to work, son of James, if you would follow after me, we can get started." And just as suddenly as Oin had stated the true purpose for his visit, he turned around to walk down the corridor.

Harry, who hadn't yet moved away from the doorframe, could only stare as Oin continued on without looking back. Oin was a complete stranger who had appeared out of nowhere and perhaps if Harry had known more about the dwarves' traditions, he would have known whether it would be smart to follow or to stay behind and barricade his door.

But the way Harry saw it, he only had one option. Smacking the door shut behind him, he sprinted to catch up, surprised to discover that Oin talked undisturbed as if Harry had been walking beside him all along.

"And I've heard from Merak that you have lots of experience on the medical field already, which is rare considering how young you are. I, myself, was trained by Healer Ulric in my younger days. Why I didn't consider taking on an apprentice before know, I cannot tell you, but it doesn't seem like such a bad idea now that I have thought about it."

"You've talked with Merak about healing? Is that where we are going, to the Hall of Healing? I'm sorry to say this but I've already worked as a healer and that didn't work out." Harry wanted to get some answers, but he didn't receive any response back in return. It was difficult to say if the dwarf ignored him on purpose, but Harry was starting to think that that wasn't the case, so he tried again.

"Are we going to the Hall of Healing?" They had just taken a turn down another corridor that Harry had used while he still worked as a healer.

"No, we are not. You will not get to work in the Hall of Healing, from what I've heard that turned into a minor disaster. You will train directly under me as… a private healer."

"A private healer?" Harry asked, undeniably confused; he hadn't heard about those kinds of healers before. "Then who will we be treating?"

It came as no surprise when Oin failed to answer once more; in fact, he had completely failed to react to Harry's question at all. His eyes didn't waver from the path ahead, which lead Harry to believe that the older dwarf were slightly deaf. He briefly considered asking his question again, but figured that he would find out in time.

"I can see why all of the trouble started," Oin suddenly spoke up from beside him.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, taking care to speak loud and clear. He knew that he immediately had gained the attention of everyone in the corridor when he had spoken, if he hadn't already had it, but that was just something he had to get used to; though he probably never would.

"From the way they all look at you. I know that there hasn't been a bearer born in a century before now but they all ought to have some courtesy. If I were you, I would hate to go out, probably barricade the door as well."

"Tell me about it," Harry murmured with a grimace. "Wait, did you say bearer?" The term wasn't completely unfamiliar to Harry, it was used when male wizards could be impregnated and carry to term.

Oin came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the corridor, forcing Harry to stop along with him.

"What is it now?" Harry was getting tired of this really quickly, again. "Look, could you please be straight forward with me? I'm done with the secrecy and misunderstandings."

Looking around the narrow space, Harry noticed that all the other dwarves had stopped what they were doing to listen in on Oin's and his conversation. He wanted to shout at them and call them nosey fools but he didn't get to shoot more than a few dirty looks.

"You don't know?" Oin asked, his grey eyebrows almost completely down into his questioning eyes.

"No, I don't, and you know what? That is the whole problem. Will you tell me or will I've have to turn back and barricade the door?"

"I like you, laddie," Oin said with a laugh. "If you still want, we can walk the rest of the way to my workstation and talk there?"

Harry really didn't want to go back to his house, not when he finally had ventured out. He had accomplished nothing locked inside his home and he realised, however much he dreaded it, that he needed to be together with the crazy dwarves to understand them.

"Alright."

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"Tell me, what is it that I don't know?"

They were sitting inside what would have to be Oin's office. The walls were filled with newer tomes and categorised paper stacks, the rug was golden brown, the desk stood on dark wooden legs and had a blank surface made of stone.

Oin leaned back into the blue fabric of the plush armchair with wooden carvings and drew a long wooden pipe out from an inner pocket. He opened a small metal chest that rested upon the desk and started stuffing his pipe with a pleasant smelling pipe-weed.

"Haven't you ever wondered why you haven't grown a beard when everyone else has?" A small cloud of smoke rose from the pipe in Oin's hand as he lit it.

"Of course I have." And he had thought about it a great deal, not that he had found an answer. In the end, he had concluded that it had something to do with his strange arrival into this new world, and that his body wasn't completely that of a dwarf. He hadn't wanted to ask any of his friends, in fear of drawing further attention towards his difference.

"But you haven't found out, you don't know what separates you from the rest of us," Oin said matter-of-factly while bigger clouds of smoke developed from the glowing end of the pipe.

"Let me guess," Harry said with false cheer. "It has something to do with bearers?"

"How right you are, laddie."

"Are you saying that I'm a bearer?" Harry hoped not. He knew deep down what Oin was going to say, but he hope that it didn't mean what he thought it did; perhaps, bearers were different here than they were in his old world.

"You're the first bearer we have seen in over a century, Harry, it's a blessing. You know how dwarves struggle with fertility?" Oin asked, and Harry could only nod numbly. "The few women that we have struggle through pregnancy and they usually don't get more than two children. But bearers, they are blessed by Mahal."

Oin would probably have pressed forward with the praise if Harry hadn't made an unintelligible sound from the back of his throat. He suddenly felt very dizzy and sick and he hadn't see Oin move from his seat until his hand came to rest carefully upon his lower arm.

"You are very valued," Oin began carefully, but Harry didn't want to hear another word about it.

"I'm not something special," he interrupted, and his words left no room for arguments. The silence that followed was raw; Harry hadn't meant to shout, least at all at Oin, who hadn't done him any wrong.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled quietly, maybe too low for Oin to hear but he didn't need to repeat himself.

"I understand," Oin said, as he walked back around the desk to his own chair. "Maybe we should talk about something else for now, my job offer and what it'll entail?"

"I think that would be a good idea," Harry quickly agreed but he didn't know what else to say, what to ask, even though he had been curious about the job. His mind had gone completely blank, he hadn't been a bearer in his last life and he couldn't understand why he had suddenly gained the ability.

"I'll train you to be my successor. We'll work in our own workspace, separated from the healing hall and we will follow our own schedule. When I judge you to be ready, you will work alongside me to discover new healing methods. Does that meet your satisfaction?"

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The coming days had been nothing but challenging. Work would start early in the morning and end only when Harry, out of exhaustion, would fall asleep on his couch with a book in his lap. Oin demanded absolute perfection and, while Harry had been lucky that the herbs in this world resembled the ones in his old one, he still knew nothing of the bodies of dwarves or their illnesses. Oin had been shocked to learn that Harry had been considered a healer when he didn't even know the basics and had been merciless in his teaching methods. Nothing was said more than once in the hours they spent together either outside the mountain, where Harry learned where the different herbs grew, or inside Oin's working space. Together they practiced the technical work where Oin would observe and correct Harry's techniques but on his own Harry was expected to catch up on theories and be able to access the knowledge the next day.

While the books Oin had given him to study were interesting and what he had sought after in terms of learning more about the species he had become a part of, he had difficulties reading a single chapter without falling asleep. Harry felt buried under the workload Oin demanded of him and most of the time he wanted to throttle the dwarf who hardly heard a thing when spoken to. Harry wouldn't say that he hadn't come to like the old dwarf, but Oin clearly took too much pleasure in ignoring Harry's questions, making Harry either drop the matter entirely and seek out an answer on his own, or have him repeatedly shout the same question over and over again.

But the hard work was rewarding. He had firsthand experience on how strong and persevering the dwarves were but now he also knew why. Why the dwarves could work with the strength of ten horses, some even capable of moulding gold with their bare hands. Why their skin was tough and their tolerance for pain was extremely high. And why the dwarves almost never got sick because their bodies ran with an alarmingly high body heat which protected them from harsh weather and most bacteria and viruses.

Oin had also handed Harry a thin leather-bound book about bearers with the accompanied words that while he didn't have to read it right now, he would have to at one point to finish his healer training. But Oin had had no need to worry, for Harry hadn't been able to avoid the book for long. He had read the book before an hour had gone by, perhaps a result of skipping some of the pages with descriptions of intercourse with bearers. A lot of the information wasn't complete new since dwarf bearers had much in common with the magical ones. The only distinctive difference between the two was that the magical ones would give birth to wizards and witches with enormous magical powers while the dwarven bearers were cherished because they could give birth to dozens of children without taking damage or dying. The last dwarven bearer had given birth to a total of seventeen children and not even magical bearers could boast such large numbers.

Harry had been shocked and admittedly a bit terrified, but even though he was a bearer that didn't mean that he wanted children any time soon, if any at all. It was suddenly much easier for him to understand why he had the attention of so many in the mountain. From what he had learned, dwarves were possessive and had a great interest in gold and shiny gems but children were the most valued and sought after of treasures.

He could easily have what so many desired, and yet all he wanted was to be like anyone else and fit in. He knew that he shouldn't be ungrateful; he doubted that many woke up to find a second chance at life. But he also felt that he had been fooled; most of his friends and associates probably only liked him because of his status as a bearer. He could now say with complete certainty, even though it saddened him, that it was the reason Ralec had sought him out in the first place. But Harry also hoped that the reason for Ralec's pursuit had changed since their first meeting.

He wanted to talk with the Ralec, to confront his fears, but the handsome dwarf was nowhere to be found and after asking around, he had gathered that the dwarf had left on another business related trip without notice.

Ralec wasn't the only thing that had disappeared from Harry's life without warning, though. The mountain of socks in front of his door had begun to taper in numbers. Every morning he would open his door and find that the collection of coloured socks was steadily growing more sparse in numbers, like someone had removed them in the middle of the night. He couldn't say that he was displeased by the sudden development; after all, he had wanted to remove them himself, but he was still curious about the unexpected change.

And for once, he hadn't hesitated to voice his question. Harry didn't see Sanix very often, with Sanix rising in rank and responsibility, and Harry busy with his own new job, their schedules clashed horribly. But that didn't stop Harry from visiting Sanix in the training hall with a book to read. While Sanix instructed and oversaw the work of his squad, Harry would read, but they still managed to sneak some conversation in between small breaks and update each other on their ongoing lives.

Sanix couldn't say what the exact cause for the socks' removal was, though apparently it could occur for several reasons. If the dwarf who placed the sock lost interest, he could remove it. But Sanix hadn't believed that that was the reason and had pointed at the staring dwarves around the training hall to make a point. The socks could also be removed in case of competition between suitors or, in a special case, to please Harry because he had been displeased about them. In circumstance of an engagement or a marriage the bridegroom would sometime remove the socks out of a possessive gesture but some left them, completely unbothered by their spouse's many admirers and to show off.

Harry didn't really care why they had disappeared but he was sure that his red-haired neighbour appreciated the change as much as he hadn't needed to manoeuvre around them to get out of his front door as he had ventured out in search of books necessary for his studies.

Erebor had one of this Earth's biggest libraries and Harry was thrumming with excitement to see it. He had not thought that the dwarves would have much interest in books when stone, gems, and swords had priority. But then, according to Oin most of the books had nothing but stone, gems, and swords to report about. The history of the dwarves, their legendary battles and heroes, and tomes upon tomes of the wealth discovered within the seven dwarven kingdoms.

But Harry didn't doubt that there were hidden and interesting reads to be found within the grand library. He certainly was going to try to find something on dwarven customs and traditions, even if he had to fall behind on his homework, he was determined to know more about the dwarves and what to expect of them.

Harry didn't known why he hadn't thought to visit the library before but there were still parts of Erebor he had yet to uncover. He had not been in this part of the mountain before; he didn't even know the guards stationed around but he greeted them all the same. The corridors here had beautiful emerald floors and they were much less crowded, as they were very far away from the more heavily inhabited areas and the markets.

"Excuse me, but I believe that I have yet to have had the honour of making your acquaintance." The dwarf who had spoken to Harry, had stepped right in front of him to stop him in his track. "I'm Jarkar, son of Zukar. Can I know your name, lovely one?"

Harry had to force himself to swallow the lump that had blocked his throat. The man before him had the same air as Lucius Malfoy had when Harry had first met him, that of a man who thought himself superior to anyone else.

He had been polite in his speech but there was no doubt in Harry's mind that there was more to this dwarf beneath the surface.

"I'm Harry, son of James," he answered with a forced polite smile. Jarkar had his hand held out and Harry dreaded the kiss that would fall upon his hand as he placed his hand in Jarkar's.

"Are you certain? You remind me of someone else I've known." Jarkar still hadn't let go of his hand and the physical contact had now gone beyond typical pleasantries to the point that Harry was happy to draw his hand to himself.

"I'm sure, who else should I be?" Harry couldn't guess what the Jarkar had intended with his question. But he chose to treat it as a joke and smiled all the same.

"I'm sorry, I don't normally pry in other people's business but I must admit that I have heard tales about you." Jarkar made a show of looking around the corridor to the few other passers-by. "You must know how quick gossip runs around this mountain. I have heard that you were found wandering around not far from Erebor and that you have no memories of your previous years. So can you certain that your name is Harry, the son of James?"

Harry false smile dropped in a moment of panic. He hadn't thought that anyone would try to uncover his past, and he couldn't see why it held any importance, but with this man in front of him he suddenly felt out of depth.

"I wouldn't know for sure but for some reason I remember that name. Can I ask you why you're so interested in my past?" Harry wanted to walk away but he also couldn't leave in the middle of the conversation. Jarkar probably wouldn't let him leave anyway and Harry didn't want Jarkar to follow him around. It was bad enough that the dwarf's black eyes made shivers run down his spine.

"You remind me of someone I once knew, a mother, father, and their young son. They died around five years ago and their son disappeared without a trace."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry said genuinely. "I presume that they were close friends of yours?"

"Indeed, I became close friends of the family while their child was still a small dwarfling. Their son was a bearer like you." Harry didn't like where this conversation was going and the look Jarkar sent him didn't help at all. "They lived in the kingdom Moria, a modest life, as his parents' choose to keep their son's status from the public. They wanted him to grow up like the other dwarflings his age for as long as the signs of his status weren't too obvious. Later, his parents and I agreed that we would marry, he was my betrothed." Jarkar's hand suddenly stuck out and grabbed Harry's. Harry tried to draw it back but Jarkar had him in a strong, firm hold.

"You look just like him."

Harry desperately wanted to say something, anything to stop the other dwarf from continuing down this lane. But he couldn't very well just proclaim that Jarkar was in the wrong without an explanation.

"I don't know what to say." And that was the truth, Harry really didn't. He tried to draw his hand back once more but Jarkar held it firmly to his chest which, unfortunately brought Harry closer to him.

"I'm sure that you are my Roh, my lost bride." Jarkar spoke as his other hand rose to Harry's face. But before it could touch his cheek, Harry finally got loose and brought some much needed distance between them.

"I can't be… I don't know you." In reality Jarkar could have spoken the truth, Harry consciousness could have been dumped within the body of this Roh, but Harry doubted that that was what happened. While the other dwarf's face appeared sympathised because of Harry's confusion, the black eyes shone with dark glee.

"But of course you have forgotten and it isn't your fault. Don't despair, Roh, you will have plenty of time to remember after our marriage. I will tell you of your family and old life until you remember again.

"I can't possibly marry you," Harry tried to explain, uncertain if he talked to Jarkar or himself. His eyes were fixed on the green floor, somehow hoping that the solution to his problem would be written on the floor like a cheat sheet.

"You are promised to me and deal between us is sealed, there is nothing else to be done." Jarkar didn't even try to appear mournful anymore. Even hidden under the dark grey beard, the smile was clearly visible and self-satisfaction poured off him in waves. But as Jarkar held his hand out again, perhaps expecting Harry to accept his word and run to him, the ring upon Jarkar's finger caught the light and flashed red.

"We can't marry because I'm already promised to someone else." The words flew out of Harry's mouth before he had even thought the thought through. Ralec wanted to marry him and though Harry knew that this was a low blow and inconsiderate of Ralec's feelings, he couldn't marry the dwarf before him.

"I'm afraid that you will have to break the engagement off. The contract has been signed." Then Jarkar paused and his voice filled with contempt. "Unless, you are to be married to someone with a higher rank than me?"

Harry wanted to say Ralec's name, but Jarkar's confidence made Harry doubt that there were many in the mountain that outranked him. He knew that Ralec was rich but he didn't know his rank or how much importance his name had. But he couldn't keep his mouth closed, no matter how stupid his next words were going to be.

"The king, I'm to be married to the king."

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I hope that you are happy and satisfied with the current development! But let me know what you think. I will try to answer all the questions I get from you guys - not that I will reveal anything plot related.