Disclaimer: Harry Potter and related characters and settings belong to J. K. Rowling. The Lord of the Rings and related mythology belong to the heirs of J. R. R. Tolkien.
A/N Anybody who's a 'Lord of the Rings' buff should know the meaning of this chapter title. It is Sindarin for "Gray Pilgrim".
Chapter 16: Mithradir
When Hermione came too, the first thing she felt was the headache building up within the back of her head. She also noticed that there was now a rather nasty bruise above her left temple. As she became more aware of her surroundings she noticed that she was lying on a stone floor within a dark, stone chamber, the only light coming from a single, small window that was barred across. There were droplets of water dripping nearby, the sound of dripping echoing eerily through the darkness. And she certainly wasn't imagining the smell of damp mold from the walls. Also nearby was a large, heavy, iron plated wood door. Clearly, she was in a dungeon cell of some sort.
Hermione groggily sat up, groaning as the pain in her head intensified. "Owe," she mumbled as she held a hand up to her bruised temple, "Where am I?"
"In Azkaban, little mudblood," said a voice that was too familiar for comfort along with the creak of a door opening. Startled, Hermione instantly looked up to see a dark robed, hooded man enter the cell. Underneath tat robe, Hermione could see bits of chain mail. He also wore gauntlets and metal boots. Hermione however, instantly recognized the platinum blonde hair, the cold gray eyes, and the irritatingly annoying smirk.
"Draco Malfoy!" snapped Hermione. "I should've recognized your foul stench the instant I was placed here."
"Still high and mighty, aren't you Granger?" replied Draco. "I don't think you fully understand the situation you're in. A young girl, a mudblood to boot, is imprisoned in the most dread inspiring prison in the world, with Wizarding kind's gift to women in the same cell willing to grant the pathetic mudblood girl the opportunity to experience his manhood." Malfoy's smirk turned into a leer as he finished with, "Whether she wants it or not I might add?"
Malfoy was startled however when instead of cowering in fear and crying as he had expected her to do, Hermione burst out laughing. "'Wizarding kind's gift to women'?" she exclaimed with a guffaw, "Why Draco, you must truly be delusional if that's what you think you are. Or maybe you really haven't had much experience with women after all."
Malfoy was clearly infuriated but managed to keep his anger bottled. "Delusional? Look who's speaking Granger. Need I be the one to remind you that you were the one to walk out in front of one of the Nazgul unarmed? Why, you practically let them capture you. It was a pity you didn't have your wand; I would've loved to have broken it myself. It might have even given me the excuse to strip search you," he said with a leer, "But alas, before I can do anything, the Dark Lord has expressed wishes to see you."
For the first time since Draco had entered the cell, Hermione truly felt frightened. "V-Voldemort-Sauron is here?"
"Oh no, he's still within his tower," said Draco, "But surely you must realize that I can use various communication spells." Saying that, Malfoy stood up straight, clapped his hand twice, and mumbled some words Hermione couldn't understand. A dark flame started materializing in the air above Malfoy. It soon widened into a ring of flame and within that ring a ripple of magic spread like the surface of a mirror. Looking into the vision in the mirror, Hermione backed up to the far wall and barely managed to hold back a scream of terror.
The vision that appeared on the mirror like surface was not a reflection but the armored face and blood red eyes of Voldemort-Sauron himself. Hermione barely managed to contain the panic and terror that were threatening to overwhelm her. 'Those eyes!' she thought, 'Those are the eyes that have haunted Harry for so long? Oh Harry.'
"So you are Hermione Granger. I have had an interest in meeting you for quite some time," said the voice of Voldemort. "Harry Potter's girlfriend; most interesting this fact is." Hermione was startled when the Dark Lord's voice changed into a voice far deeper, the voice of Sauron, "And yet, I have a strange feeling that I have met this girl before or at least someone with the same image: one that boils me with much hatred." The dark Lord was lost in thought for a moment before his eyes suddenly widened in epiphany and he exclaimed, "Luthien?"
"What?" said Hermione, instantly remembering that day Harry had called her "Tinuviel".
"The image of Luthien has returned to Middle-Earth," said the voice of Sauron. "Highly faded yet still potent it is. And once again, the image has claimed the heart of King of Men: the Heir of Elessar." With this the two voices of the Dark Lord suddenly burst into laughter and said, "We find this most amusing. The image of Luthien, the child of Elf and Maia, once the most beautiful creature ever to walk this world has degenerated into a simple, plain looking mudblood: how pathetic is that?" The humor died on the Dark Lord's voices as he said, "We would've wished that the image of Luthien be worth a consort to Melkor himself but that is not worth the dignity of a mudblood. Perhaps Draco, you and your Inquisitional Squad may wish to have your ways with her?"
"It would be my pleasure my Lord," said Draco as the Dark Lord's face disappeared. He started making his way toward Hermione, his leering smirk growing wider. "Now to have you for myself. You should be honored Granger, I am actually willing to grant you with my manliness."
Though she was terrified of the Dark Lord, there was absolutely no way Hermione could ever be scared of Draco Malfoy. She actually laughed and said, "Manliness? Why Draco, I didn't even realize there was enough manliness about you to even realize that I was a girl."
Draco'a eyes suddenly dangerously. "You will learn your place mudblood!" he yelled, slapping Hermione with his gauntleted hand. Hermione stumbled to the ground, another nasty bruise forming on her cheek, tears starting to form in her eyes.
For a second, Draco thought his point had come through. He was startled however when Hermione suddenly sprang to her feet with a cry of rage and slapped Malfoy back as hard as she could, her nails managing to scratch his cheek. Draco staggered back, his eyes actually flickering with fear. "Fine!" he snapped, "I will leave you alone for now. Soon enough, Azkaban and the Dementors who now once again guard it will have broken you anyway. I will have you after you are broken!" With that, Draco spun around and slammed the door closed behind him.
Left alone in the cell, Hermione sat down and started breathing heavily, willing her body to calm down. It was only after she had calmed down that Hermione allowed herself to smirk.
* * *
Harry barely remembered making it back to Hogwarts that evening. He couldn't recall a single memory of what the teachers had said to him upon his return other than a faint image of Snape screaming at him, but that wasn't anything new. He couldn't recall anything about the students' reactions to Hermione's capture. The only thing he knew was how desolate and empty he felt at not having Hermione next to him. How powerless he felt when he couldn't save her. So he just sat there, late into the night in front of the fireplace, starring at the Marauder's Map placed on his lap as if he were willing Hermione's name to appear on it.
For how long Harry sat there, he had no idea but late at night, when all the other students had long gone to bed, Harry suddenly snapped to attention when a new dot appeared on the map. Hoping for a brief moment that Hermione had returned somehow, Harry glanced at the dot and was startled to find that it wasn't labeled with a name, as if the map couldn't decide what name to give the figure that was now approaching toward Harry from behind...
"What the?" Realizing that whatever this strange creature was, it was now behind him, Harry spun around swinging forth Anduril. The blade was blocked by a wooden staff with a ringing metallic sound.
The staff was carried by an old man dressed in white robes and cloak. He had pure white hair, a long white beard, bushy eyebrows, and a rather large nose. For a split second, Harry thought it was Dumbledore standing behind him but quickly discarded the thought for the old man was most certainly not Dumbledore.
"A well placed shot that was, young Heir of Elessar," said the old man. "You have acquired many skills from your ancestors. As well as a few of your very own I can see."
Harry didn't put down his sword though his face was now quite puzzled. "Who are you?" he asked.
The old man looked thoughtful and said, "I have many names Harry Potter; yes I know your name as well. My true name, the name I was known as in my youth in the West is Olorin. In the South, they called me Incanus. To the East I never ventured. The Elves and Numenoreans knew me as Mithrandir. And in the North, I was known as..."
"Gandalf!" exclaimed Harry. "You're Gandalf the Gray!"
The old man smiled. "Indeed," he said. "I am Gandalf the White."
"And..." Harry put down his sword and stood up, "... you taught me the armor spell: the one that saved me during the Quidditch match."
"It was not much of my doing," said Gandalf. "Your wands that you use are a marvelous construct. It appears to be a stick of wood containing an effect from a creature of power. Yet what channels your own power through the effect from the creature into the wood is the single sliver of the Dwarvish mettle, Mythril that connects the effect to the wood. I just merely showed you how to reshape that Mythril at your will."
"Why didn't your name appear on the map?" asked Harry.
"Though I cannot be certain, it is probably because I am not a man," said Gandalf.
"Then, you really are an angel?"
"Angel. Yes, I believe that is the term used now. The term I am more familiar with is 'Maiar'."
"You're speaking English."
"It is not too difficult for my kind to pick up languages of Middle-Earth, whether old or new."
Harry still had a lot of questions on his mind but he decided to forgo them for the one that was most pressing on his mind: "Why are you here?"
"There are many possible answers to that question. But I believe you already know the primary answer to that," said Gandalf.
Harry nodded. "Voldemort-Sauron."
"Yes," said Gandalf. "Due to the foolishness of a fallen man, the ancient enemy has returned. With Sauron back, it has once more fallen on my shoulders to return to Middle-Earth and guide the Dunedain King much as I had guided Aragorn all those years ago."
"How can Voldemort-Sauron be defeated?" asked Harry. "I've seen his power, it's unbelievable! And now..."
"You fear the safety of Luthien's image," said Gandalf. At Harry's questioning look Gandalf said, "Yes, I am talking about Hermione Granger. So alike to previous Elf maidens who bore the name 'Tinuviel' she is yet so different. But I do wonder though, how is it that she could be captured so perfectly? Too perfectly it seems. How is it that even the Nazgul could route out this one girl out of all the crowds in the village?"
Harry was decidedly confused. "Wait a minute, are you suggesting that Hermione allowed herself to be captured? Why would she do that?"
"I neither suggested it nor denied it," said Gandalf. "Only she would know the exact truth of that. And as for Voldemort-Sauron, it is not for you to know the truth about him just yet. Very, very soon but not just yet."
"What are you talking about?"
Gandalf looked over Harry with a stern look in his eye. "Three years ago, young Harry Potter you were faced with a choice, a choice that would have dire consequences during the following years. Now, within the next hour, you will be faced with that very same choice again. The choices of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins made about Gollum's fate had far lasting consequences on the world. You now face the same dilemma, Harry Potter. Let us hope that once again, you make the correct choice." With that, Gandalf suddenly disappeared.
"What the heck was all that?" Harry exclaimed to no one in particular. "A choice I made three years ago? Why, the only choice of consequence I made back then was..." Harry started as a new name suddenly emerged on the Marauder's Map. A slow, burning anger started building up within him as he grabbed Anduril, and sprang out of Gryffindor Tower racing toward the location where he saw that name: PETER PETTIGREW.
* * *
Through the darkened corridors of Hogwarts, the rat formerly known as Scabbers scurried through. He was searching for someone and was desperate to find him. Yet, everywhere he scurried, he could not shake off the fear that someone was following him. Someone was seeking him out.
Feeling paranoid, the rat sped around the corner only to run into Mrs. Norris, the caretaker Argus Filch's cat. Squeaking in terror, the rat raced away as the skinny cat chased after him. The rat was faster than the cat but he was forced to stop dead when he ran into none other than Argus Filch himself.
"What is it my sweet? Are students out of bed?" said the caretaker. He looked down and noticed the terrified rat. "Bah! Just a filthy rodent! This creature is of no notice, come Mrs. Norris."
The rat actually allowed himself to release a breath of relief as the mangy cat reluctantly followed her caretaker. However, the relief was short lived when the rat realized that another, worse cat was now standing menacingly behind him: Crookshanks, the orange part kneazle that had menaced him so much, three years ago. Slowly and fearfully, the rat attempted to edge away from Crookshanks whom was eyeing him menacingly. He however was forced to stop that another animal was now standing on the other side of him: the white owl Hedwig. As the cat and the owl menacingly closed in on the rat, the terrified rat had no choice but to revert back to his human form.
Seconds later, Peter "Wormtail" Pettigrew stood in the place of the rat. "Shoo! Shoo! I don't fear you animals now!" he said toward the owl and the cat.
"Perhaps not," said another far too familiar voice. "But then, maybe you should fear me!" Before Wormtail could react, Harry Potter had grabbed Wormtail's robes from behind and was holding the cold, hard steel of Anduril at Wormtail's throat. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you now!" hissed Harry.
Wormtail gulped, sweat beads forming on his forehead. "You-you have to listen to what I say H-Harry."
"Why should I?" demanded Harry, the blade pressed closer to Wormtail's throat.
"B-because, I know the true power of the chalices," whimpered Wormtail. "I know what the Dark Lord's true goal is."
"And why would you share this information with me?" demanded Harry.
"Because the Dark Lord, he does not seek to conquer," cried Wormtail. "He seeks to destroy! He seeks to summon Morgoth back to the world!"
To be continued...
A/N I wrote this entire chapter while out at sea, which will probably be where I write most of my chapters from now on. Unfortunately, it won't be uploaded until we arrive in Hong Kong. Tell me what you think my readers. If you have any questions, I will be happy to answer them so long as it doesn't spoil anything.