Harry Potter and the Ring of Doom

Harry awoke, happy to be alive. He looked about the room; he appeared to be in his Hogwarts bedroom. The other four beds were empty. As he started to sit up, he heard a whispering sound on the stairs. Since his bed was closest to those stairs it was easy for him to check out the noise. His jaw dropped as the source of the noise came into view. Hermione was walking up the stairs, dressed in a nightgown that caused some strange feelings to pass through Harry. It almost appeared transparent at times, but stayed maddeningly opaque all the same, with cleavage that was distracting, to say the least.

"Hello Harry," she said as she reached his bedside. Her voice was definitely not her usual speaking voice, and that did nothing to ease his mind. "I'm glad to see you're awake again."

"Umm, Hermione? How did you get up here?" he asked.

"Silly, the stairs on the boys side aren't spelled to prevent girls from coming up. I guess you boys just can't be trusted." She chuckled, a throaty sound that continued to worry Harry. "And that's why I'm here, to be untrustworthy with you." She pushed him back into a laying position and leaned over to kiss him, displaying some of what was under the nightgown. Her lips touched his, and...

He opened his eyes to a blurry white room. "Of course it was a dream. I was just getting to the good part. Besides, I could see." He began to reached around for a night-table.

"I believe you are looking for this?" said a deep, pleasant voice. Harry felt his glasses being placed in his hands, and he brought the world into focus once more. Turning in the direction of the voice, he was faced by - Professor Dumbledore? "I gather your sight is improved?"

"Yes, sir. Would I be far off in assuming that you might be Gandalf?"

The wizard laughed. "You are the first of your compatriots not to mistake me for your delightfully intelligent headmaster."

"Had you spoken first when they saw you?" Harry asked, fairly certain of the answer.

"That might explain it then," replied Gandalf with a smile.

"Since I'm unfortunately not in the middle of that dream I was having, can I ask where I am? And for that matter, how long I've been out?"

"You are in the House of Elrond, in Rivendell. It is 10 in the morning on October the 24^th, and you have been unconscious since you fell to the ground on the 20^th." He faded to silence as Harry's mind flitted back amongst the things that had happened since arriving in this world. As he remembered the vague images from just before losing consciousness on the 20^th, Harry sat up so fast that the world spun. "Careful, Mister Potter! Your friends are fine, if that is the cause for your alarm. Glorfindel was correct; the Nine left to follow you."

"Who were the Black Riders?"

Gandalf remained silent for a moment before answering. "The Black Riders are the Nine Servants of the true Lord of the Rings. They are not dead, no matter what you saw in the Loudwater; they are merely unhorsed, and must return to Mordor by whatever means possible for new mounts." As Strider had done, Gandalf rolled the 'r' in the name, and Harry felt a shiver run through him.

Harry stood up from the bed a little shakily. "I'm probably breaking the nurse's rules by doing this, but I see sunshine coming through these windows, and after the way I've felt since the sixth, I'd like to feel the warmth on my face."

As he walked to the door, a voice said, "You are indeed breaking 'the nurse's rules' by being up from your bed, Mister Potter, but given how close to death you seemed, it is good to see." Coming in the door was a tall man, with hair the colour of the deepening shadows of twilight. He seemed ancient and eternally, vibrantly young at the same time; and would look equally at peace wielding a sword, a wand, or merely a book, Harry thought. "I am Elrond, and you are a guest in my House. Your wound had us all worried, your companions most of all. We feared for your death, or worse."

For some reason, the words of the Prophecy ran through his head; the one Voldemort had fought so hard to retrieve from the Ministry: '...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...' "It would have to be the fate worse than death, sir. Unless Voldemort has come here, I can't die here. There's a Prophecy in my world that one of us will kill the other, and that's the only way either of us can die. Given the fact that he's got a few decades on me, I think I know where that's going to lead. But if I don't at least try, it dooms my people to the murderous rages of our own Dark Lord."

"Y'know, Potter, you can really be depressing sometimes," Draco said as he came around the doorjamb into the room. Clasping Harry on the shoulder, he said, "Can't you just be as happy that you're alive as we all are?" Behind him came Ron and Hermione.

Draco judiciously stepped aside at that moment, rather than be caught between them as Hermione launched herself at Harry, throwing her arms around his neck. "Oh, Harry!" she breathed in his ear, obviously trying hard not to cry. Tentatively, he put his own arms around her waist and hugged her. She seemed to melt against him. He looked over her shoulder at Ron, who was grinning widely at the two of them with his right hand in a 'thumbs-up' position.

"Um, Hermione?" Harry finally asked. "Could you loosen your grip on my neck a little?" She broke free, blushing and looking down. He, however, did not let go of her waist, which caused her to look up questioningly. Mentally crossing his fingers, he leaned forward and kissed her lips.

A few moments later, when the kiss broke, she whispered in his ear, "Seems like you can cast the localized Petrificus yourself, Mister Potter. Just not as obviously."

He blinked, not understanding. "I've wanted to do that for a little bit. I guess I did it right; you didn't slap my face." He was grinning as widely as Ron now. He turned to Elrond. "Sir? I don't know your title, or else I'd use it, but as long as my friends are around to help me, or run to get help if necessary, can I get dressed and walk around?"

"With your friends, feel free to explore these grounds. Do not leave Rivendell just yet, but I do not believe that will be a worry," Elrond smiled. "Gandalf and I shall leave you to be with your friends. We have much to talk about before the Council tomorrow." With that, Elrond and Gandalf left Harry's room.

"Sounds like the place where I give this damned thing up," Harry said, and suddenly realized that he was in an odd dressing gown. He quickly set about the room, trying to find his clothing, and soon found the pants he'd been wearing. Reaching into the pocket, he found the Ring, now on a silver chain, and sighed with obvious relief. "I'd hate to think I'd come all this way just to lose it to those Riders at the last second." He slid the chain over his neck and let the cold metal strike his chest, and he shivered. "Well, if you'll let me get dressed, I'll join you just outside the door, okay?"

Hermione flashed her 'here again, gone again' smile before she said, "I'm not sure, Harry. I think one of us needs to stay behind and help you. You're weak, after all. I volunteer for the job." Her eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Cor, 'Mione, he'll never get dressed at that rate!" Ron said with a laugh.

"Shush, you," she said, turned to Ron and flashing him that same smile.

"Out, all of you!" Harry laughed. "Let me dress in peace!"

A few minutes later Harry exited the room in jeans and shirt. He was a bit thinner than any of the three others preferred, but that was to be expected, given the past eighteen days. "So, anyone care to give me a tour of this place?"

"Well, it can't be Ron or Hermione, then," Draco said. "Couldn't get the two of them very far away from your bed except for sleep and meals."

"Like you were that much different, Draco?" Hermione replied. "I didn't see you running off to explore."

"Well, despite my possible incredible attractiveness as an angsty loner, I really didn't feel like exploring on my own."

Harry looked at the three of them, trading banter with the same ease that he was used to with them, and felt a little pang of jealousy run through him. Get over it, Harry, he told himself. Even before the wound, you weren't exactly trying to be anyone's friend once you were here.

Yeah, but that was Hermione..., he tried to respond.

It was Hermione's fault for asking an honest question? Get a grip, Harry. If there was anyone feeling angsty, it was you. You need to apologize to them all.

He looked up at the group, which was looking at him with some concern. He chuckled. "Sorry, just having an argument with myself. And losing." He turned serious next. "I need to apologize to all of you for what I was like since we arrived here. It was unforgivable, especially to you, Hermione. You got the full force of it, and it wasn't even really aimed at you. It was me, at myself. I'm going to try to do better."

Ron spoke up. "You were a right git, I admit that. But friends like you even when they know the real you, I think I read somewhere."

"I know what that thing is like, Harry. As much as you think it's all you, I'll guarantee that the Ring was playing with you as well, making it far worse." He stopped, gritted his teeth, and said, "If you ever tell anyone I said this, I'll deny it. You're a better man than I am, Harry, for the way you've handled that thing so far."

"Really, Draco?" Harry asked back. "You were strong enough to throw it away."

"Couldn't you give it to someone else?" Hermione asked. "Like Ron?"

"Don't know; let's see." He pulled the chain from around his neck and thrust it out toward Ron. At least, that's what he'd intended, but he found his hand in his pocket instead, a death-grip on the chain. "Looks like the answer is no."

"What do you mean, chum? You pulled it off and put it in your pocket, that's all."

"My intention was to hand it to you, Ron. Even during the time I was shoving it in my pocket, I was trying to hand it to you. It has its hooks in me. Draco was strong enough to get rid of it." He locked eyes with Draco and nodded a salute of sorts.

After a few moments silence, Harry spoke again. "Anyone willing to tell me what exactly happened at the Ford?"

"Well, we didn't see part of it," Ron replied, "but we were told about the look on your face. You'd even pulled your wand at the end there. Before you dropped it, that is."

"My wand!" Harry exclaimed. "Was it washed away in the flood of the Bruinen?"

Hermione blushed and reached into her blouse, between her breasts. "Had it hooked onto my bra every time I visited, Harry, in case you woke up. Couldn't put it in my pockets, in case I sat down and broke it."

"Harry, I'm jealous," Ron laughed. "Even your wand is luckier than I am!" They looked at each other for a moment, and then the entire group burst into laughter as they realized that all four of them were having variations on the same joke running through their heads.

"Seriously," Harry said. "What happened after I fell off the horse? Asfodel, or Alsfaloth, or something like that?"

"Asfaloth," Ron answered. "Well they ran you up here and started working on you. Turns out that knife had left a sliver in you, and it was worming its way toward your heart. Apparently you'd have turned into a wraith if it'd made it." He laughed. "You didn't know it, but Elrond was the 'nurse' you were talking about. The big man himself was the one working on you. They only found that little bugger yesterday, and melted it." He shuddered. "Hermione isn't the only one who won't forgive you if you die on us."

"Hell, I'd get pretty annoyed with you too, Harry," Draco said. "I'd miss the sparring we do at Hogwarts. "These two just aren't as much fun to torment."

Harry looked at Draco and had an epiphany. Draco was bothered by the friendship he'd been building these last two weeks, and since they were about to go home, he was trying to get things back to the way they were before. Problem was, the group had started to like him, so they were giving him slack they wouldn't have back before they left Hogwarts and Earth altogether. "Nice try, Draco, but we like you anyway." This was back up by nods from a serious-faced Hermione and a still grinning Ron.

Draco clenched his fists, and they realized why as they saw tears attempting to leak from under his now clenched eyelids. Harry took a chance and walked over to him, and put his hand on Draco's shoulder. "You can let it out around us; we won't say anything to anyone back at Hogwarts, just like we can't say anything about what we didn't see in the library."

"Nope; didn't happen if we didn't see it," Ron said seriously.

Draco looked up, and the tears were that much more obvious. "I'm not used to this. My folks taught me that people were there to be used; no friendships were important, it was just how people used you, and how you used them. And now I can't even get them angry by telling them they're wrong!" He choked a sob back and clenched his teeth, as if that would stop the tears working so hard on coming.

Harry crossed his fingers and did something he'd never even done with Ron - he pulled Draco into a hug. "Cry on my shoulder about them, and I'll cry on yours about my godfather. We both lost someone important recently." He heard Draco gulp a couple times, and then he could hold it no more. The raw sorrow in Draco's voice reminded him of how much Sirius had meant to him, and Harry did find himself crying as well, mourning his own loss.

#####

When the crying had stopped, the two separated by mutual consent, and Ron and Hermione backed away. "That never happened," Draco said with a weak laugh.

"What never happened?" Harry replied. "Seriously, Draco, if you need it, we're here. I know you were working on that potion. It certainly seemed to do the job at the start, but I can't exactly judge about near the end. I was starting to think I'd never get warm again."

"Are you kidding?" Ron exclaimed. "According to Gandalf and Elrond, that potion of Draco's was the only thing that kept you holding on until you could get here!"

"Whose potion?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. "As I recall, the first batch of potion had a certain redhead handing me ingredients as I needed them, in the right order, without my having to say a word. Only reason you didn't work with me on the second one was that you were helping Strider, as I recall." He stopped. "Why aren't you ever that good in Potions, Ron? You know your stuff, that much was obvious. That wasn't exactly a simple potion we were making."

Ron laughed. "Couple reasons. You in Slytherin may not notice it, but Snape can be pretty intimidating to the Gryffindors. You try to make a potion with a teacher who doesn't hide that he dislikes you breathing down your neck!" He turned serious with his next comment. "Also, it wasn't the life of one of my best friends on the line in class. You needed the help, and I knew Harry could die if I did something wrong. So I didn't do anything wrong."

Harry was stunned. "Ron, I'm touched."

"We knew that," Hermione chuckled. "After all, you hang out with him!" Ron responded by shaking a fist at Hermione, who very maturely stuck her tongue out at him.

#####

"Hard to believe the fate of their world, and possibly ours, rests on their shoulders, doesn't it?" mused Elrond

"Not at all," the wizard replied. "They see things differently, but they are really no different, in their own way, from Frodo and his friends. Look at the tight bond they have. Any one of them would walk through fire for the others, and if my eyes do not deceive me, most of them have. If they do what I suspect they will tomorrow, then we will be glad of that bond."

#####

The Hogwarts four laughed and walked for the rest of the day, Harry occasionally leaning on whoever happened to be nearest when he was feeling weak, which seemed most often to be Hermione. He finally just gave up and put his arm around her waist, and she reciprocated with a smile. As evening approached, one of the Elves approached. "Excuse me, but I have been asked to request that you get ready for the banquet. There have been clothes laid out for you in your rooms."

As he left, Hermione mused, "I wonder if all Elves are as good-looking as Elrond and that one?"

"I imagine you'll find out when we get to the banquet," Harry said with a smile. "Thinking about staying here after we've released our charge?"

"Only if you do," she answered, and then laughed at his stunned look. "What? You kissed me this morning; quite well, I might add; my toes still curl thinking about it; you've had your arm around me for a good portion of the day; and might I note that it's still there; and now you're surprised by that statement? Who's fishing for compliments now, Mister Potter?" she laughed.

Getting back to their rooms, Harry found an outfit that he wasn't quite sure how to wear. He'd never worn breeches like these before, but he finally managed to get them worked out. There was a silk shirt and an interesting silver belt that went with the breeches, and when he was done, he stepped outside the room to find Hermione waiting for him in a gown that simply took his breath away. It was form-fitting gown and covered her almost to the neck, but was somehow both demure and enticing at the same time. Well, maybe I'm the only one who finds it enticing, he thought, and then noticed Ron and Draco walking up in similar outfits to his. Both their jaws dropped when they saw her, although Draco recovered far faster. Then again... Harry chuckled.

They walked in the direction of where the banquet seemed to be, and were rather surprised to discover what seemed to be the entire population of Rivendell in the Hall. At the head table sat Elrond, Gandalf, and even Glorfindel, who nodded gladly to see Harry on his feet. In the center chair, under a canopy, sat a woman so like Elrond in appearance that Harry knew she must be a relative. This was his first glance at one of the most beautiful of all Elves - Arwen Undomiel. He saw how astonishing she was, and came to a realization that astounded him - given a choice between looking at this woman, or Hermione, he'd rather look at his classmate. He looked over at her and took her hands in his. She had begun to shrink within herself when she saw the array of beautiful people in the room, obviously feeling plain in comparison, but Harry's simple act, and his smile, brought her heart to her eyes, and she stood straighter.

"Come, friends!" said Elrond. "Your place is with me tonight." Embarrassed, the four walked to the empty seats at Elrond's table. They were never quite able to describe the banquet afterwards; just that it was full of excellent food and pleasant conversation. Eventually the feast ended. Elrond and Arwen left the hall and the company followed in due order, into an even larger hall. No table and chairs were here but the occasional bench and cushions. At the far end burned a huge fireplace. Elrond led Harry and the rest to a small figure on one of the benches, who appeared to be sleeping. "Wake, little master! Those you wished to see are here!"

As they headed closer, Arwen leaned over and whispered something in Hermione's ear, and Hermione nodded after a moment of surprise. They reached the figure, who flipped the hood back on his cloak to show an aged hobbit. "Wake, indeed!" He said, eyes twinkling. "I was not asleep, Master Elrond. I was working on a song, since I am unable to work out a line or two. I supposed that I shall have to ask for help from my friend the Dunadan."

"Then we shall find him, and you two shall finish your song, and we shall judge it before the merriment is through." Elrond sent messengers to find Bilbo's friend, and the group was left as much alone as was possible in this room.

"I understand that the group of you are here to finish what my nephew started?" Said the aged hobbit. "Frodo Baggins is my nephew. I am Bilbo Baggins."

"We are pleased to meet you, Lord Bilbo," Harry said.

A laugh from Bilbo kept Harry from speaking further. "I am no lord, young master! I am just a simple hobbit who likes to adventure is all!" He turned serious. "My nephew; how is he?"

"I wish I could say unhurt," Hermione said, "but that would be a lie. Our Dark Lord desired what he carried, and pulled him through to our world. He and his friends fell a long way, and were badly injured by the fall. However, they are being tended by the best our world has to offer, and though their wounds will take time to recover, they are alive." She smiled broadly at him.

"His friends? Who were they?" Bilbo asked.

"Let's see," Harry said. "There was Frodo, there was a Samwise Gamgee, a Merriadoc Brandybuck, and a Peregrine Took."

"Little Samwise I know, him being the son of my old gardener, but the others are a mystery to me. Good families, though, so no worries." They continued to talk for a while, and Harry got the impression that Bilbo wished to talk about something, but didn't know how to ask.

"Sir? I don't mean to be rude, but you seem to want to ask something. Just ask, if I am right." He smiled at Bilbo.

Bilbo sighed. "That old Ring of mine - the one that seems to have caused all this trouble. Who has it? Surely it wasn't left with Frodo?"

"No sir," Harry responded. "I carry it now." He reached into his pocket and pulled it out.

As the Ring came into view, it seemed to Harry as if a shadow passed through the room, and as if the music and laughter had faltered. Rather than a pleasant old man, Bilbo now seemed to be a nasty, grasping gnome. Bilbo saw the look on Harry's face and said, "I understand now. Please, put it away. I am sorrier than I can ever express that you came into this burden; at last I understand what a burden it is." Harry quickly put the Ring around his neck, and the shadow passed. More laughter and song seemed to wipe away even the memory of what had happened. Bilbo told them tales of the Shire that had them laughing when he suddenly looked over his shoulder. "Dunadan! There you are at last!"

They looked to see who he referred to, and Ron was driven to say, "You sure have a lot of names, Strider!"

"You live as long as I have, and you collect names, will you or not."

"Strider is one I haven't heard before!" Bilbo said.

"It was how I introduced myself to them in Bree. It seems to have stuck," he laughed.

"What does Dunadan mean?" Hermione asked. If her nose could have twitched from curiosity, it would have.

"It translates out to Man of the West," Bilbo replied. "Very fitting, given his lineage."

"I would say merely descriptive," Strider laughed. "Shall we go aside and finish your song, friend Bilbo? I had news that I very much wished to hear, but now that I have the news, I am yours." The two of them stepped aside, begging the pardon of the four from Hogwarts.

Harry found that he was quite tired. "I think, perhaps, that bed might be a good idea for me," he said. "I think I will bid you all a fond good night, and see you in the morning." His good night wishes were returned by many of the Elves, to his surprise, and he nearly staggered off to his room. Hermione stayed behind to speak with Arwen.

On his bed, though, he found himself unable to sleep. His mind flew about, trying to make sense of so many things. Why did I react like that to poor Bilbo? What do I do about Hermione? I may have seemed like I knew what I was doing, but I've got them all fooled. He laughed quietly. I am. I'm in love with one of my best friends. What do I do now?

As he pondered, he heard the door open. He reached for his glasses, but heard a voice, "Shh, Harry, don't worry, it's only me." Too stunned to even think as he registered it as Hermione's voice, he was even more shocked to feel her climbing into bed with him. She put an arm across his chest. "If I haven't said it to you yet, Harry, I love you." Before he could speak, she had already drifted off to sleep. Surprisingly quickly, he did too.

#####

He awoke the next morning and mumbled, "Now that was a good dream."

"What was it?" Hermione murmured in his ear. "What was your dream?"

She was close enough to him that he could see her clearly. "Umm, that you had come into the room and climbed into bed with me." He grinned so widely his face almost hurt. "It wasn't a dream? It wasn't a dream this time!"

She smiled back at him. "Do you have any idea how good that makes me feel, knowing that me simply being here with you makes you that happy? And you've dreamed about me before?" When she saw the blush beginning, she said, "Oh, it was that kind of dream. Maybe one of these days you can show me what the dream was about," her eyes twinkling.

"I don't know if either of us is quite ready for that step, Hermione," he said. Suddenly he thought of something and lifted the blankets.

"Yes, we're both still dressed," she laughed. "Neither of us tried anything with the other last night." As she saw the relief in his eyes, she giggled as she added, "Darn it."

We need to get up and get dressed, love," he said absently, suddenly remembering about that Council that Elrond and everyone seemed to have been talking about. He looked at her, and saw the same look he had the night before, entering the banquet hall, when he took her hand. "What?"

"Never mind," she said, a look of wonder on her face. She climbed from the bed and pulled the Elven silk nightgown over her head, and for the merest of moments before he spun to give her privacy, Harry was treated to the vision of Hermione, facing away from him, completely unclad. He gulped, and he heard her turn. "You can look if you want to."

"I want to, that's why I won't look. I just said we weren't ready for that and if I look my mind is going to try to tell me that it is ready for that and see if it can bring my body along for the ride so I think I'd just better face away from you and babble like I'm doing right now." He laughed at the end, a little shakily.

"You, my wonderful Mister Potter, are a nut." She walked around the bed to kiss him. She still wasn't completely dressed, but at least now she was in a skirt, and had her brassiere on.

"Finish dressing," he breathed, "or else I'm going to miss the Council if you kiss me like that again." He shook his head. Too fast, he thought. This is happening too fast for me. Gods, I want to just grab her and... no! If I think about it, I might act on it. I want her first time with me to be special, not just because my hormones got the better of me. He shook his head and finished dressing as well. When he looked at her again, she had an odd look in her eyes. Mildly predatory, he thought.

As he stepped out the door, he was met by Ron and Draco, both of who looked rather bemused that he and Hermione were exiting the same room. Hermione was blushing furiously now. "What?" he asked. "We didn't do anything except sleep! Why are you blushing?"

Ron laughed and held the back of his hand against his friend's forehead. "Are you all right, chum? You had her in your bed last night, and nothing happened?"

"He's stronger willed than that," Hermione said defiantly, the blush intensifying.

Draco simply began to laugh, long, loud, and hard. Finally getting himself under control, he looked at them. "I wish the two of you could see yourselves. Harry, you and Hermione could light fires with your blushes!" He fell back into peals of laughter.

Gandalf came along then, Bilbo with him. "I am glad to see you in good spirits. The Council will be starting soon, so I believe you may wish to eat a small breakfast." He led them to a room where a small buffet was set up, and they quickly grabbed various edibles. They weren't honestly sure what any of them were, including the juices, but they were as delicious as last night's meal had been. As they were washing the last of rather tasty sticky buns down their throats, a clear bell rang. "Ah, the call to Council. Follow me, please."

Gandalf led them to a porch area where many were assembled; Glorfindel, two Dwarves, Elrond, Strider off in a corner, and others that they did not recognize. Elrond brought them to his side, seating them in pairs on his right and left, and saying, "Here, my friends, are the four who have come hither through greater peril than any could know, on an errand most urgent."

He then introduced the others to the students; Gloin and his son Gimli; Legolas, son of Thranduil, King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood; several of his own advisors; and a tall man with a fair, noble face, dark hair, and a proud, stern glance. He was dressed, unlike the others, or even themselves, as if he had just come from the trail - a long hard journey.

To Gandalf, Elrond said, "Here is Boromir, a man of the South. He arrived in the grey morning, and seeks for counsel. I have bidden him to be present, for here his questions will be answered."

#####

Harry and his friends heard quite a lot during that Council, most of which they did not understand, not knowing the history of the world, or where the the places named fit on the map. Gloin had described the visit from an emissary of Mordor, asking for help in finding the Ring, and in return, he would give them the three remaining Dwarven Rings that existed. Elrond talked of the making of the Ring of Power, and the taking of the Ring by Isildur. Gandalf had spoken of his imprisonment by Saruman, another wizard of some considerable power. He had turned to Harry and the others to remark, "It was during my imprisonment atop Orthanc that your Professor Dumbledore spoke to me many times. And it minds me that things work oddly between our worlds. You appeared in Middle-earth scant hours after Frodo and the others were taken, but your Dark Lord had apparently pulled them through a week or more earlier. You met them, studied what needed study for two or more weeks, and yet, as I said, appeared scant hours after they disappeared. For all we know, when you are returned home, you may appear during your summer, as when you left. Or years may have passed."

Boromir rose and spoke at some length of Gondor, and the dreams that he and his brother both had experienced, quoting the voice from his dream:

Seek for the Sword that was broken:

In Imladris it dwells;

There shall counsels be taken

Stronger than Morgul-spells.

There shall be shown a token

That Doom is near at hand,

For Isildur's Bane shall waken,

And the Halfling four shall stand.

"Of these dreams we understood little, so we spoke to our father Denethor, Lord Steward of Minas Tirith, wise in the lore of Gondor. This only would say, that Imladris was of old the name among the Elves of a far northern dale, where Elrond the Halfelven dwelt, greatest of loremasters. Ten and one hundred days have I travelled to find this place, in hopes of understanding."

"And here in the house of Elrond shall more be made clear to you," Aragorn said, standing up. He cast his sword upon the table before Elrond, and it was in two pieces. "Behold Narsil, the Sword that was Broken!"

"Who are you, and have have you to do with Minas Tirith?" asked Boromir in wonder.

"He is Aragorn son of Arathorn," said Elrond, "and he is descended through many fathers from Isildur Elendil's son."

"Then it belongs to you?" Harry asked without thinking.

"It belongs to neither of us, Harry," Aragorn replied, "but it appears that it was ordained for you to hold it for a while."

"Bring out the Ring, Harry!" Gandalf said solemnly. "The time has come. Hold it up, and then Boromir will understand the remainder of his riddle."

Harry slowly removed the Ring from his shirt, holding it by the chain. It spun and light struck it oddly, making it gleam and flicker. "I see the Bane of Isildur," Boromir said, "but naught but one halfling. Where are the other three?"

Hermione stood next. "Where we come from, an archaic word for children was halfling. Here we may be considered adults, but we are still children in our world."

"The doom of Minas Tirith is truly at hand then, if our fortunes are in the hands of children. What good is a broken sword in that case?"

Aragorn replied. "The words were not the doom of Minas Tirith, Boromir, and you misjudge their valour and abilities if you assume them naught but children. And the Sword shall be re-forged."

Boromir shook his head. "By their own words they call themselves children, and one of them a girl at that. What can they do?"

Aragorn held his hand to his mouth to hide his smile, and Harry judiciously stepped away from her. Her wand was suddenly in her hand, and she said, "Accio horn!" The horn on Boromir's lap shot into her hand. The next thing that happened was ropes shooting from her wand and wrapping him tightly to the chair, which she then levitated into the air. Pulling the chair closer to her, she said sweetly, "Imagine, Boromir: if I'm the useless one because I'm a girl, then can you imagine what the boys can do?" She set his chair back where it came from and made the ropes vanish. Harry chuckled and kissed her cheek. She looked at him and sped the horn back to Boromir. "Sorry, Harry; that just got my goat," she murmured.

"If you hadn't, I was going to," he replied. "It is sort of traditional to defend your lady's honour, isn't it?" She blushed demurely and turned back to the Council, all of whom were looking at the four of them with new respect; even Gandalf seemed impressed. "Sorry," he said.

Gandalf laughed. "Apologies are unnecessary from your side."

"They are, however, necessary from me," Boromir said, standing and walking before the now seated Hermione. He knelt before her, head bowed. "I spoke unfairly of a fair maid, and offer what labours I may to right this wrong. My arm is yours to command."

"Thank you, Boromir. There was also wrong done by me, so I ask your pardon for allowing my anger to place you in a situation where you might be faced with ridicule."

"There was no wrong done by you, lady. It was necessary to make me aware of the power you four control." He stood and returned to his chair.

"This might be a silly question and all," Ron said, 'but how can we be sure that this Ring Harry is carrying is this Ring that Sauron made?"

"You mean other than the Prophecy that we got from our side?" Draco laughed.

"Hey, it just said we had to get it back here, and that two Dark Lords wanted it."

Gandalf spoke. "I have seen the writing that this Ring bears." Harry pulled it from his shirt again, and saw nothing but a plain gold ring. "When heated, this Ring bears a fell inscription in a fair hand: Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul. The change in his voice was astounding. Suddenly it became menacing, powerful, as harsh and unforgiving as stone. A shadow seemed to pass over the high sun, and the porch grew dark for a moment. All trembled, and the Elves stopped their ears.

"Never before has any dared voice words of that tongue in Imladris, Gandalf the Grey," said Elrond as the shadow passed and the company began to breathe again.

"And let us hope that none will ever speak it here again. Nonetheless, I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond. For if that tongue is not soon to be heard in every corner of the West, then let all put aside doubt that this thing is indeed what the Wise have declared: The One Ring of the Enemy, whose words of inscription told the Smiths of Eregion that they had been betrayed: One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all, and in the Darkness bind them."

"Sorry I asked," Ron gulped.

"What, then, shall we do with the Ring?" asked one of the Elves. "Should we have called Bombadil to this Council, and perhaps given him the Ring for safekeeping?"

"He would not have come," Gandalf answered, "and since this Ring means little to nothing to him, he would soon forget it, and leave it somewhere, and we would soon be in the same straits that we are now."

"And the Elves have not the strength to hide this from Sauron," Elrond said. "I have not the power, nor has Lorien, or the Havens. There is but one solution, since to hide the Ring forever is not possible. It must be taken to Fire, and unmade in the forge which made it; the Mountain Orodruin - Mount Doom."

"Could we not use this Ring against him?" Boromir asked. "It is a thing of power, as you say, and it was devised by him. Would this not help us in our battle to fell the Dark Lord forever?"

"Alas, no, Boromir. It answers but to its true Master. Its strength is too great for any to wield, save those with great power; yet there is fraught with other dangers, for the desire for it becomes overwhelming. Even were one to use it to overthrow Sauron, the Ring is wholly evil, and would simply place its owner on Sauron's throne as the new Dark Lord. No, it must be destroyed."

"Very well, Master Elrond!" Said Bilbo suddenly. "Say no more. It is plain enough what you are pointing at. Bilbo the silly hobbit started this affair, and Bilbo had better finish it, or himself." He sighed.

Boromir looked in surprise at Bilbo, but the laughter died on his lips as he saw the other faces. All except the four children regarded the old hobbit with respect; even they regarded him with respect, but awe was also co-mingled. Gandalf spoke. "If perhaps you had truly started this, dear Bilbo, then it would fall to you to finish it. The Ring has passed to other hands, and there let it stay. Instead, stay and finish your book. Keep your 'and he lived happily ever after' as you wish it. There is still hope for it. Get ready to write a sequel, when they return, however."

"Who are they to be?" asked Bilbo.

"The messengers who are sent with the Ring, of course."

"And who are they to be?" asked Bilbo. "That seems to be what this Council must decide. Elves may thrive on talk, and Dwarves endure great weariness; but I am only an old hobbit, and I miss my meal at noon. Can't you think of some names now? Or put it off until dinner?"

None answered. The noon-bell rang, and still no one spoke. Harry looked amongst the crowd and saw all lost in deep thought. A great dread fell on him, as he suddenly realized exactly what both Prophecies meant, and he shut his eyes for a moment, as if the action might prevent what he knew must happen. He knew otherwise, and with a great effort he spoke, and wondered at the sound, as if another was speaking through him.

"I will take the Ring," he said, "though I do not know the way."