- Harry -

This might make me sound even more paranoid then...well, then I already am, but when things are going really well, it usually means everything is going to go to hell, and fairly soon.

Things are going fairly well, but it's just the start of the term. I miss Sirius, of course. But not as much as I think Prof - Remus does. We saw him over the summer, at Grimmauld Place, and he seemed just...kind of...broken. All we're doing now is waiting, waiting for the war to come to us. I hate waiting. Hermione tries to fill up our time with classes and studies and she even goes so far as to help me make Quidditch strategies, and then Ron looks uncomfortable, like he's just found out the girl he fancies is Oliver Wood in drag.

Of course, that's what she reminds me of, too, when she gets like that. She gets all these books from the library and just crams as much as she can. She tries, so neither one of us tells her that she doesn't know what she's talking about.

She's too excited to do any of that today, though. She keeps going on and on and on about her new friend, the strange bloke with the hippie hair. Apparently, he has some really fascinating views on just about everything, and Ron gets so jealous every time she mentions him that I think he's ready to explode.

"It's absolutely FASCINATING, his views on our magic. I guess they have wizards where he's from, but not wizards like us. They carry staffs, not wands and -"

"Do we have to hear about him constantly," Ron gripes. "Legolas this, and Legolas that. If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a crush on him like you did Lockhart."

"Except bigger," I agree.

Hermione glares at both of us. "Oh, don't you understand? I'm learning from him, different things than I learn in class. Besides," she says, like this just closes the entire subject of crushes. "He's MARRIED."

"How do you know?" Ron asks.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "He's wearing a ring, Ron, and the girl, Kayli, she has one just like it." Hermione shrugs. "Even if I was interested in him, at least I'd know I had a better chance than someone like Lavender or Parvati, for once."

Ron snorts. "I don't know why blokes'd be interested in girls like them when there are girls like you around, anyway." Then he blushes, realizing what he said. "Um...I mean..."

Hermione beams at him. "Thank you, Ron!" And she kisses his cheek.

For a moment, I thought Ron was going to die of embarrassment. Hermione goes back to chattering about all she's learned from Legolas, and Ron continues to watch her when he thinks she's not looking. This is getting ridiculous...even if it is funny.

Hermione pauses for breath, and Ron asks a question I know he's been thinking about. "So...what is he?"

Hermione takes a minute to think about it. I have to admit, I'm a bit curious. He does seem magickal...especially the part where he, well, he GLOWS. Normal people just don't do that, not even in the wizarding world. Well, there was the time that Ron and I had a potion explode in class...we glowed for two days after that. I suppose it could be a potion, but what about his ears?

"I think he's an Elf," Hermione says suddenly.

Ron and I both stare at her for a second. "An...Elf? You mean like a House-Elf?" Ron asks. "No offense, Hermione, but he doesn't look much like a House-Elf."

Hermione shakes her head. "No, not a House-Elf. I've read about...other kinds of Elves. Magickal beings. Not like us, magical, but latently magical. Usually excellent warriors, things like that. The thing is..." she trails off and shrugs.

"The thing is..." Ron sounds eager. Like he always does about something new and exciting. Or Quidditch.

She shrugs again. "The thing is...the stories are usually fiction."

Ron frowns. We exchange a glance. "He didn't seem very fictional," I finally say.

- Kayli -

I have never felt so useless in my life. Not even in the beginning of the Ring Quest, when I wasn't doing shit.

One thing I have learned to hate since I started taking an active part in the protection of Gondor? Sorry, that's a Boromir phrase. But anyway, I hate standing still for an extended span of time. Legolas is spending all of his time in conversation and research with Dumbledore and McGonagall - for some reason, those names sound very familiar, why I don't know - and the students have classes and I HATE not having anything to do. All it does is piss me off.

So what do I do? What I always do when I'm bored, it's just a bit harder to find a clear place with no people around here. Mainly because this place is packed with students and teachers and other people. That caretaker guy, the one with the cat, has it in for me.

I just want to DO something. Anything. I hadn't realized before that I was taking Middle-Earth for granted. At least there, there's a bad guy to fight or evil to vanquish or, hell, even soldiers to train. This not-being-able-to-do-anything-useful thing is driving me insane.

I'm currently down by the lake, doing what I usually do when I'm bored - practicing. I didn't get this good with my knives without SOME practice, thank you. And I get into it, really. Deep. Usually, this includes blocking out everything that my subconcious doesn't think of as a threat. I register stuff, vaguely take notice of what's going on around me, but nothing really penetrates, you know?

So when those kids come up behind me, I know they're there. It doesn't really register, but I know. It just doesn't strike me as important enough to stop what I'm doing.

I hear one of them say "wow." Flattering, but really not very high praise coming from a kid who uses magic instead of force in battle. But you gotta admit - less mess. And maybe less pain?

Some how I doubt that. People are vengeful, pain-giving fuckers. They've probably come up with some spell that'll put you in so much pain, you'd WISH you were dead.

I finish my last move and turn to my captive audience. Then I bow. Hermione and Ron applauds, Harry just looks amazed.

"Thanks," I say. Oh, uck. The bad thing about all this practice? Sweat. Eww. I push wet hair out of my face and plop down on a convenient rock. "How's it going"

Hermione comes and sits next to me, hugging a book. Is it just me, or is the redhead giving her 'LOOKS?' They seem like looks. A lot like the looks I used to give Legolas, actually. There's something to be said for the not-obviousness of obvious longing glances. Or maybe people are just bloody oblivious.

Not that Legolas is oblivious. Well, yes he is.

I didn't say that. God, somebody shut me up.

Ron shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at me curiously, like I'm some kind of fascinating new species. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

I smile slightly. It's not a real smile, more like a I'm-smiling-to-hide-the-fact-that-I-feel-like-I-got-punched-in-the-stomach smile. God, but it hurts to think about home. Or anything to do with home. Even to pain-in-the-ass Half-Elven twins with too much time on their hands and either not nearly enough common sense (Elladan) or far too much practicality (Elrohir). "Two very good friends of mine," I tell them, instead of saying what I'm really thinking, which is that I miss them both. So much.

"What kind of friend can teach you THAT?" Ron asks, staring at my knives.

I smirk at him and give them a little twirl before sliding them into my boots. "Good ones."

Ron gives me a kinda disbelieving look. "I've got some pretty good mates, and none of them could teach me that."

I resist the urge to ruffle his hair. He's resent me for, oh, life. I remember being a teenager. And he can't help it that he's so damned CUTE. Actually, he kinda reminds me of Sam, for some reason. "Be glad," I say instead. "I HAD to learn how to do this. If I hadn't, I'd be dead by now."

They stare at me for a second. Ron and Hermione look wide-eyed, Harry just looks thoughtful. Holy fuck, what has this kid SEEN?

"Could you teach me?" Harry asks suddenly. I look at him. I was pretty sure he was joking, until I actually took a good look. This kid is as serious as a funeral.

I shake my head quickly. "Your parents would kill me."

"My parents are dead," he says, and there's a flatness in his voice that almost hurts to listen to.

There's another long moment of silence. "I'm sorry," I say after a second. "I didn't know. But even so, there has to be some parental-tyupe figure who would remove my intestines with a bacon fork if I taught you how to use an edged weapon."

Harry and Ron exchange a glance and then burst out laughing. Hermione giggles helplessly. "Mum!" Ron hollers, doubling over. "That is so Mum!"

Harry laughs so hard he has to sit down.

I am not so amused. A year ago, I would've flipped out and asked them what the hell was so funny. But if there's one thing living with an immortal will teach you, it's patience.

After a couple minutes, Harry straightens up and makes some attempt to smooth down his hair. Some things, however, are a lost cause from the very beginning. "Yeah, there's someone like that," he says, and then pauses. Oh, no. Here it comes. The 'What The Parent/Grandparent/Godparent/Aunt/Uncle/Cousin George/Insert Favorite Parental Unit Here Doesn''t Know Can't Hurt Us' Speech.

I'm shaking my head before he even opens his mouth. I REMEMBER that Speech. I should have the PATENT on that Speech. And, here's what I really want to know, when the hell did I become the grown-up in this situation? In ANY situation? As soon as I find my Adult Resignation form, I am handing it in.

"No, no, and no. Uh-uh. No way. I like my intestines where they are, thank you."

"You don't even know what I was going to say," Harry protests.

"Yes, I do," I say. "You were going to say that what she doesn't know won't hurt her, or us, and it would be something useful for you to learn, and kinda cool, and something to fill up your weekends, or something. But let me just say - they ALWAYS KNOW. And what they find out CAN hurt you."

Ron is nodding before I'm finished speaking. It's the nod of someone who has been punished at the hands of the Parent, and does not want to repeat the experience. But then, that's the perfect parenting skill to have. "She's right, mate. Mum always finds out." He makes a face. "At least, she always doesn when I do something wrong."

"Yes, but before you, she had lots of practice." This from Hermione. I take it Ron has a lot of older siblings. I wonder how many 'a lot' is.

"But it would be something useful for me to learn" Harry says intently, ignoring them both. "I mean, it's not like I can fight Voldemort " Ron flinches "- with regular magic, he knows tons more than I do, I'm still just a student. It's only my sixth year, there's a lot I don't know about magic. Especially the Dark Arts, which he'll be using against me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop the carriage. Who's Voldie-whatsit?"

"Lord V-Voldemort," Hermione says, like saying the name gives her heartburn, or something. "He's the most powerful Dark Wizard Britain's ever seen. And the evilest."

Oh, look, another evil wizard. I wonder if he took the same classes as Saruman.

Moving on. "Evil dark wizard. Got it. 'Cause I've never met one of THOSE before." They stare at me, and I shake my head. "Why is he after you"

Harry looks uncomfortable. And before you start with the lecture, little Legolas voice in my head, I know even considering to teach him is a bad, horrbile thing. And I don't know why the little angel guy on my shoulder sounds like Legolas, since he'd be doing that same thing.

Hermione takes a deep breath, and Harry looks kind of resigned to his fate. "Harry was the only person to survive the Killing Curse at Lord -" Ron cringes, and she changes words - "V- umm, You-Know-Who."

I run a hand through my hair and sit down to think about it. "OK," I say finally. "I'll teach you, Harry. 'Cause apparently you have the most reason to learn. As for you two, I definitely need parental permission."

Ron sighs. "Mum'll never let me learn."

Hermione's whole face lights up. "You're a Muggle, right" she asks me suddenly.

I stare at her. "What's a Muggle?"

"Non-magic person."

I think about that for a second. "Ummm...yeah."

Hermione stops for a second to smirk at Ron, who's grinning like an idiot. "I bet Dad would let me do just about anything if he met you," he muses.

I think I'm offended. "Uh, excuse me?" It's amazing how much insult you can put into two words. You can put alot into two words.

Ron immediately turns a rather interesting shade of pink. Oh, yeah. He definitely reminds me of Sam. "No! Not like THAT!" Harry collapses into giggles. "He's interested in Muggle stuff!"

I shake my head slowly. "Look, I haven't been around here for a long time. I'm originally from a world...I think a world like this one, from what I understand..."I sigh. "I've been in Middle-Earth for over a year now, and - and I can't really remember the little stuff about my world."

"MIddle-Earth!" Hermione shrieked suddenly, snapping her fingers like some kind of demented - finger-snappy person. I'm sorry, I can't thing of anything else right now. It's kind of hard when your brain is trying so hard to remember stuff that it feels like it's melting. "It's from a book! That's where I've heard his name before! From a book!"

"The Lord of the Rings," I say. "By JRR Tolkien. Not a book, but a trilogy. Actually six books, compressed into three. And some other stuff, like the Unfinished Tales."

Hermione gapes at me. "You...you're actually FROM Middle-Earth."

Here we go again. Didn't I explain all this? Yeah, to Dumbledore. Right. "Now? Yes. Originally? Minnesota."

Ron leaned over and whispered to Harry. "What's a Minnesota?"

"I have no idea."

"It's a state" I explain, stretching my legs before they start to stiffen up. You have to stretch after you exercise, or your muscles get all tense. "You know, in the United States of America? I think you probably still call us bloody colonials over here."

"You're an AMERICAN" Ron asks, gaping at me.

I laugh. "Yeah, I guess. More Gondorrian."

Hermione looks thoughtful. "I wonder if Mum could owl me my Lord of the Rings books."

I wince. "Don't tell Legolas," I say. "He's having a hard enough time coping without finding out he's a fictional character in this world."

They all wince, trying to imagine. And suddenly it hits me.

Harry Potter. Oh, FUCK.

Heh. That reminds me where I've heard the name Dumbledore before.

And the next thing I know, the three kids are giving me really strange looks, and I'm laughing so hard there are tears pouring down my face.

It feels good to laugh.

TBC...