Hello loves!

Some more information for the confused ones between all of you

I originally wrote the story back in the mid-2000s. It was one of my very first Harry Potter stories, and I wrote it accordingly badly. It was also significantly shorter and apart from a few paragraphs here and there, there was no plot on Earth, everything just happened in Middle-earth. In total, the story had 9 chapters back then. The action in these nine chapters extends to 45 chapters alone in the current version, and there are a total of 93 chapters with about 350,000 Words in those finished Chapters so far. Then there are 150,000 words of material on my hard drive that still need to be put into context and where gaps need to be filled.

Of course most of these 93 existing chapters still need to be translated, but I am working on this...

In general it should be said that I completely ignore books six and seven from HP, and also parts of the fifth volume. As I said, the idea for the story comes from the time when OotP came out. I can't adapt it to the events of the subsequent books, then it no longer makes sense.

On the subject of Middle-earth: I've read the books once, I've seen the films three or four times. So don't be surprised if I mess something up. I try to research as best I can, but I cannot guarantee that there will be errors.

OK, enough info for today.

Hope you enjoy!

The journey begins...

Severus had long since lost all sense of time and place, and he knew his 'fellowship' wasn't faring much better. Even Granger and Draco puzzled over where to lead the group at every junction.
After many hours, during which every path they had taken had led them deeper into the mountains, Granger finally stopped. "I don't know about you, but I'm really dead on my feet. We should set up camp here for the night. This hall is the best way to do that so far, it's not too big and only has three entrances, which we should be able to secure."
Draco looked around. "You're right. With a bit of transfiguration, we should be able to get pretty comfortable in here, and we can seal the entrances with the big floor plates. Nothing gets through if we do it right."
Severus wordlessly turned to the passage they had come through and began to pry one of those huge stones lining the floor from its foundation. In fact, just one stone was big enough to completely close off the passage. With various spells he secured the stone against bumps and breaking and also put various protective spells on the wall and the stone.
Draco, who had been watching him, nodded slightly. "Will you close the other exits? We'll take care of the night's camp."

The students transfigured comfortable-looking beds out of the rubble that was lying around in abundance. Granger partitioned off an area as a makeshift bathroom, where they could all relieve themselves and at least rudimentary freshen up. Potter tried his hand at a fireplace - quite passably, in fact - which quickly crackled a large, warm fire. After only a short time they finally sat on different armchairs around the fireplace and drank their bottles empty again. Everyone's stomachs growled and Finnegan sighed. "How long do you two think it'll take us to get out of here?"
"Good question. The march through the mines is also described in the book over several days, Gandalf said it takes four days to march from one gate to the other," Granger explained.
"Four days?" Potter, Weasley, Longbottom, Finnegan, Zabini and Goyle moaned simultaneously and Severus too grimaced at the thought of having to spend four days and nights here without the prospect of anything to eat, a decent bed, a hot shower and fresh cloths.
Granger nodded sadly. "I don't know if we're faster or slower than the fellowship... In any case, we have to make sure that we can walk up again the day after tomorrow at the latest. The book describes a kind of guard room with three corridors leading off it. One goes further down, one straight ahead and one up. I hope we find this guard room. From there we can quickly find the originally inhabited area further up the mine and then get out of here," Granger explained.
Draco eyed her surprised. "You remember that!?"
"Sure, I've read the books so many times that I almost know them by heart." Granger smiled slightly. "Doesn't seem to have been entirely wrong."
Draco bowed his head. "That's right. I don't even remember this guard room."
"We'll continue to stick to the corridors with the noticeable drafts, then we should be able to get there," Granger mused, staring into the fire.

Harry was watching this unusual group very closely, as he had been doing for the past few hours. Five Gryffindors, four Slytherins - and no buffer in between. Nevertheless, there was almost something like harmonious peace between them all. Even Snape had packed up his sour ways and followed Hermione and Malfoy uncomplainingly. It was amazing what such an accident could do to actual enemies. Malfoy in particular, whom Harry had never thought of as a person he could get along with, actually complimented very well with Hermione. However, Harry was hardly surprised that Hermione seemed to be able to cope with this situation. His best friend, his sister at heart, still worked best under high pressure.
Ron, Neville and Seamus had tried to talk to the other two Slytherins from time to time during the last few hours and especially between Ron and Goyle these conversations seemed to be going surprisingly relaxed. Harry smiled slightly. The two actually seemed to have some things in common, like an absolute devotion to the same Quidditch club and a not-so-secret soft spot for chocolate frogs.
Zabini was sticking more closely with Neville. Both were rather quiet people, often overlooked by their own houses, and this commonality seemed to bring them a little closer to one another.
Seamus was his usual self, latching onto conversations here and there, and wandering through the whole group.
Snape mostly kept to himself during their trek, only speaking to Malfoy and Hermione now and then, but surprisingly not arguing when the two once again made a decision about the path.
Harry had stayed out of the conversations most of the time, observing quietly to himself, trying to make sense of this strange group dynamic. However, he didn't succeed.

Now they were sitting here, in a relatively cold hall, around a makeshift fire, and as the hours went on they dwelled on their own thoughts, the conversations died down long ago. They were probably all thinking of their families or wondering how to get out of this completely insane situation.
Hermione's gaze was far, far away, even though she looked like she was watching the flames in the fireplace dance. But Harry knew her well enough to know that she was very worried. The way she had curled up in the comfy wing chair, holding a blanket over her legs, twirling the corner of that blanket with her fingertips... No, Hermione wasn't even remotely relaxed.
Neither was Ron. His eyes darted restlessly over the fireplace and the stone walls next to it, his left index finger tapped erratically on his thigh. Harry knew this behavior too well, too, that's what Ron looked like when he was musing over the chessboard for the right strategy and didn't come to a conclusion.
Neville had his head tilted back and was staring at the high ceiling, his fingers clenched, his no longer plump face twisted in a look of fear. Harry couldn't help but compare this Neville to the eleven-year-old who had faced them in the common room that night and didn't want to let them pass. Neville had grown into a brave young man, a friend who could always be counted on. Even if he was scared like now.
Harry's gaze continued to Malfoy. Malfoys gaze wandered thoughtfully to Hermione from time to time when he wasn't staring into the flames with a frown. Harry was very curious to see where this would go with Malfoy as the leader of this group. So far the Slytherin had been behaving surprisingly well and maturely, Harry had to give him credit for driving Snape into the parade when he wanted to pick on Neville once more. Like Hermione, Malfoy seemed to know all too well what to expect and he didn't seem to like it.
Next to Malfoy sat Zabini, also absent in thought. Harry cocked his head and regarded him thoughtfully. Would Zabini have to share Boromir's fate? Harry had known how to read between the lines of a story for a very long time. And he had noticed very well that Boromir hadn't been spoken about at all after the separation of the fellowship. Harry was pretty sure Boromir had paid for the hobbits' escape with his life, and he really didn't wish that on Zabini. He could only hope that Hermione and Malfoy would make sure this group didn't fare the same way the fellowship did.
Seamus had his eyes closed and was chewing his bottom lip. His whole posture seemed nervous and tense, and Harry already suspected that the Irishman wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Like all of them.
Goyle was the only one who hadn't sat back comfortably. He was hunched over with his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair and staring at the floor. He, too, was completely tense and Harry couldn't blame him.
Finally, Harry's gaze settled on Snape and he studied Snape's sharp profile in the dim light. As always, it was impossible to tell what thoughts the Potions master was struggling with, his face was expressionless, the black eyes fixed on a point in the fire, the posture straight and correct. In all those years, Harry had never managed to unravel Snape, to understand this man. He'd really tried, especially since that fateful night in fifth year when Snape had caught him in his Pensieve.

"OUT!"
Harry was shaking like a leaf under the murderous glare Snape was giving him. Snape would kill him if he didn't leave now. But that memory kept him from running from the room like a beaten dog with its tail tucked in. "No...Professor, Sir...I..."
"OUT, I SAID..." Snape was fuming and had his wand trained on Harry.
The courage of the desperate made Harry act. He took a step towards Snape and gently pressed his wand down. "No. I'm sorry sir. You know I'm more curious than is good for me. I'm sorry I went to your Pensieve. But I'm not sorry I saw that memory. That was the first time I heard my mother's voice without Voldemort killing her in the same moment. And what my father and his friends did is bullying." He looked Snape straight in the eye. "I know how that feels..."
Snape snorted, "Oh, where from? From the taunts of the Slytherins?!"
"No. That's not bullying, that's childish behavior. My cousin has bullied me for as long as I can remember. And my 'family' supported him diligently. Why else do you think my Hogwarts letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs? Or talk about second year and the thing about Slytherins heir? THAT was bullying. Or the behavior of the entire school during last year's tournament.
Malfoy's behavior and that of his little clique... That's different. We don't like each other, we're rivals. And he gets exactly what he gives out... But this action taken by Dad, Sirius, Remus and the rat was heinous, mean and just plain demeaning."
Snape lowered his wand all the way down, still glaring at Harry angrily. "I don't need your pity, Potter. Go away."
Harry sighed silently and turned to the door. Before he left the room, however, he took one last look at Snape. "I don't pity you sir, but I understand your hatred of my father, Sirius and Remus now. And I can't blame you, not after what I've seen. Good night, professor."

Snape hadn't called him back. Harry still wonders to this day what had possessed him to confront the professor like that. He knew it could have ended very differently. Just one wrong word...
Instead, his actions had actually caused a change in Snape. Not exactly one that Harry would have liked, but there hadn't been anything he could do about it: Snape had started to watch him, even more than before.

A few weeks after the incident, Harry got himself detention again.
He wondered what he had to do this time. Scrub cauldrons? Gutting Flubberworms?
He sat quietly across from Snape, who just looked at him with his black eyes, scrutinizing.
"Why do you hate each other so much, Mr. Malfoy and you?"
Harry was amazed at the question, but the answer wasn't difficult. "When we first met, he promptly insulted the first person who was nice to me without any ulterior motive. I didn't even know who he was and he told me something about how some people are better than others. That sounded so much like Dudley to me that I immediately disliked Malfoy. And the second time we met, he right away insulted the first friend I had that I didn't have to worry about Dudley coming and stopping him from talking to me and thinking I was a freak. Malfoy wanted my friendship, but he had completely blown it right from the start. I don't like bullies, and Malfoy is, was, and probably always will be some sort of bully. If we were in the Muggle world, Dudley and Malfoy would probably get along great and play Harry Hunting regularly, and I wouldn't even be allowed to put up a fight. But I can defend myself here, and that's exactly what I do."
Snape tilted his head ever so slightly. "Who is Dudley?"
"My cousin."
"And why aren't you allowed to defend yourself?"
"Because otherwise my aunt and uncle would make my life even more hell."
"Explain."
Harry grimaced, but knew he couldn't avoid a lengthy answer. And if he was honest, he didn't care anymore. Snape already knew so much about Harry from the Occlumency lessons that this detail didn't matter anymore. "I'm a freak in their eyes. They hate magic, and accordingly, they hate me. I'm just the better house-elf who has to cook, clean and tend the garden, who can't get better grades than Dudley, who doesn't deserve a room of his own, a hot shower or the good food at the table. No, for me there was the cupboard under the stairs, the dried-up ends of bread and the almost expired cheese, while the lordship shoveled down thick roast beef made by slave Harry. I didn't need clothes that fit either, Dudley's discarded clothes, which were only four sizes too big for me, or Uncle Vernon's old, holey socks were fine for me. And at Christmas I got a handkerchief or a 50p piece while Dudley was drowning in presents. I was always just the doormat while Angel Dudley could never do wrong. No matter how much he bullied the other children, no matter how badly he hurt me. In fact, my uncle encouraged him to do it."
"Don't overdo the fairy tales, Potter," Snape sneered in disbelief.
Harry shot up from his chair and stared Snape straight in the eyes. "See it for yourself if you don't believe me. Come on!"
Snape sat back and a tiny wicked smile tugged at his lips. "And why should I do you this favor?"
"Call it compensatory justice for me looking into your pensieve."
"Leglimens!" Snape whispered, eyes narrowed to slits.
Harry immediately pushed all his memories of the Dursleys forward. Aunt Petunia telling him in her shrill voice that his parents were just unemployed alcoholics and wastrels; Uncle Vernon taking all of Little Harry's toys and locking him in the closet; Dudley and his gang getting hold of him and beat him; Aunt Marge unleashing Ripper on him, who wouldn't let Harry down the tree all night, and the laughter of the adults ringing in his ears; Little Harry, who dropped frying pan because it was too heavy and was locked in his cupboard for three days ...
It ended as abruptly as it began, and Harry found himself on the floor, breathing heavily and his head pounding. Snape loomed over him with an unreadable expression, but then spun around and walked out of his office without a word.
Harry groaned and somehow got to his feet, only to sink back into the chair he'd been sitting in with a pounding headache. Grinding his teeth, he massaged his temples until a vial appeared in his field of vision. "Drink."
Harry recognized the headache potion by the smell and swallowed the disgusting concoction without hesitation. "Thanks..." he mumbled and leaned back. Taking deep, controlled breaths, he held his nausea in check until the potion took effect.
He blinked slowly and faced Snape again, who hadn't sat back down in his chair, but had crouched down in front of Harry and gave him a penetrating look. "No pity..."
"Only understanding, Professor. That's all I want and that's all you want," Harry sighed.
Snape straightened up and looked down at Harry. "Go to bed Potter. And next week we will start the Occlumency lessons again."

Harry had never imagined that Snape's presence would ever be bearable, but after that evening their relationship was to change fundamentally, albeit gradually.

It was said professor who snapped Harry out of his memories by standing up. "I think we should sleep. However, it would be appropriate if we had a guard."
"I think so too," Ron murmured, looking up at Snape. "I would take first watch. Change every two hours?"
Harry nodded, "Sounds good. Wake me?"
"Hmhm."
"I'll take the third watch," Snape explained, marching toward the makeshift bathing area.
"Then I'll do the last watch. I think we should rest for eight more hours and then move on," Draco stated, stretching.
Murmurs of agreement came from the others and so everyone except Ron got ready for bed...

And done for today!

Hope you enjoyed and leave a comment.

Cya next time!

Jazzmine