Harry in Middle Earth – EAD 2016

Title: Harry in Middle Earth  – to be renamed later
Author: myredturtle
Fandom: Harry Potter, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings
Relationship(s): None at present. Most likely Bilbo/Thorin (cause that’s how I roll)
Genre: AU, Fantasy, Crossover, Fix-it
Content Rating: Gen
Warnings: None yet. Please see completed work for final warnings.

This is a project that popped into my head while watching Merry and Pippin sing about the Green Dragon. What if there was a green dragon? How would things be different if Harry Potter (with dragon animagus form) found himself in Middle Earth? This is the start of my answer. As usual, EAD rules apply.


Harry Potter kept his expression blank as he waited for his final sentence to be read out before the gathered witches and wizards. All his years of hiding his feelings while he was at the Dursleys were standing him in good stead as he mused over how he had ended up waiting to be thrown through the Death Veil.

It was his own fault, really, for trusting Hermione. Oh, others had played their parts, and in general Dumbledore was the one who had cultivated the prevailing attitudes, but in the end it was Hermione’s apparently unshakeable belief in the reliability of authority, and her habit of making decisions for others ‘for their own good’ that had really landed him here.

It was Hermione who had written up a research article on the Deathly Hallows and how Harry was now the Master of them, and then submitted it to the Ministry attached to her application for a job in the Department of Mysteries. She hadn’t got the job of course, because it was common knowledge that she was a muggleborn, whether she was engaged to a pureblood or not. But that research article had been ‘discovered’ by someone at the Daily Prophet, and then the entire wizarding world was once again talking about how it was only a matter of time before Harry Potter, The Man Who Won, began his rule as a Dark Wizard. Being the Master Of Death was proof, after all.

Harry personally suspected several of the darker families that had escaped imprisonment by the skin of their teeth *cough/Malfoys/cough* of ‘encouraging’ several tabloid writers in their speculations, after all the more fuss being made about Harry, the less they were making about others.

That whole mess had died down to a low level muttering by the time Harry had started the meditation required to find his animagus form. Even now he wondered if Hermione’s actions weren’t spurred by the same form of jealousy that had tainted their friendship in sixth year, with Snape’s old potion book. Were her actions as disingenuous as she made them out to be, or was she trying to teach him a lesson? Pretty harsh, if that was the case.

After Voldemort had finally managed to off himself by ignoring all of Harry’s warnings about wand ownership, it had taken Harry six months of almost constant haggling to negotiate terms with the goblins over his break in and subsequent break out of Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault. It would have taken even longer if he hadn’t brought Luna along with him. He discovered that despite their reputation in the wizarding world, the Lovegoods were greatly respected by the goblin horde (Harry never did find out why, whenever he tried to bring it up Luna just smiled at him in a very kind way, and changed the subject. Harry had come to suspect that despite frequently sounding nuttier than a squirrel in autumn, Luna was frighteningly intelligent) and once that was finished Harry was finally allowed access to his money, including both the Potter and Black Family Vaults.

And hadn’t that been a rude shock. It turned out that as the heir to both families, he was incredibly wealthy, was part owner of a great many businesses (both magical and muggle), and was also the owner of a number of properties throughout the world. By this time Harry was used to taking Luna’s advice (to Hermione’s chagrin and Ginny’s incandescent fury) and so he sold almost all his property, keeping only Grimmauld Place and Black Island. He then consolidated all his liquid assets into one account, appointing a goblin clan as overseer of his investment portfolio (with an attractive bonus scheme), named Teddy Lupin as his heir until further notice, and then locked everything possible down with blood rune based warding supplied by the goblins (for a hefty fee of course). Given Luna’s warnings about the possibility of love potions, he made further arrangements with the goblins to protect himself from unscrupulous women. From now on, the goblins would protect his wealth from gold diggers, and any marriage would have to survive rather strict scrutiny before any of the safeguards they’d put into place could be over ridden.

And then Harry had shocked the greedy little buggers almost speechless by commissioning a dimensional trunk linked to the already heavily secured vault with another set of blood runes. The cost had been almost half the combined Black and Potter fortunes, but when it was completed Harry had a way to access the contents of his vault that could not taken away. If he was alive and had his magic, he would be able to call the trunk to him, and through it pass messages to the goblins, if he so desired. Given how fickle the wizarding world had proved to be, Harry didn’t want to take any chances. Especially after what had happened to Sirius.

So that had been that, and Harry had taken to keeping anything and everything of personal significance to him in his oh-so-impenetrable vault, accessing it by his oh-so-convenient trunk. That included the entirety of the Black and Potter libraries, to Hermione’s constant irritation. Harry wasn’t sure what her problem was, he was perfectly happy to loan her any book she asked for, he just wanted them back when she was done with them.

What had really seemed to jerk her chain was when he had found a book describing several different rituals to help a witch or wizard access their animagus form. He had tried sharing it with her, but she was adamant that using it would be illegal since it wasn’t the ministry approved text, and after all, any books from the Black Library were likely dark, and therefore Harry shouldn’t even think of using it.

In the end he got Luna to help him pick the meditation ritual that would be best for him, and after achieving the trance Harry was shocked and delighted to discover that he was one of the incredibly rare magical animagi, his form that of a dragon. It wasn’t like any dragon he’d seen while in the wizarding world, being rather a lot more like a snake with four legs and wings than the more barrel-chested specimens he’d seen in the Tri-wizard tournament. His scales were the same colour green as his eyes, but also sometimes shimmered in the light, briefly becoming as black as his hair.

When he finally emerged from his trance and tried to explain it to Luna, she had almost burst with excitement. From her what he managed to understand of her raptures, it appeared that he was an extinct breed of ancient dragon, thought to be fictional by most of the magical community. She had then dragged him straight back to Gringotts and presented him to the goblin leader, who had almost wet himself with joy when she told him why they were here. Apparently, when Harry was able to completely access his form, he would very likely be able to create an incredibly hot magical fire that was an essential part of a tempering process for a type of goblin forged metal that they had not been able to produce for almost as long as humans had been roaming the lands.

Harry’s concern (expressed quietly to Luna) that the goblins might try to imprison him and be their fire breathing slave was dismissed. The ancient dragons had been an intelligent race and had been in partnership with the goblins. There were very old treaties between his kind and the goblins that the goblins were still bound on pain of racial extinction to honour. That made Harry feel a lot better about the whole idea. And really, what happened next was all his own fault.

He should have known better than to tell Hermione that he had discovered his animagus form. He had been a little surprised when she advised him to register it straight away, but thought that she had accepted his reasoning that there was no pointing in registering even before he’d begun the transformation process. After all, he may never achieve mastery, in which case there was no legal requirement to register at all.

But since Hermione knew best, she’d carefully filled out the forms herself, and done the registration for him. And that was how he ended up here. He’d received a letter asking him to come into the ministry to give advice on what were clearly now bogus matters, and had walked into an ambush. They’d stripped him of his wand and any other magical items, placed him in shackles that were probably supposed to remove his ability to access his magic, and then marched him down to the Death Chamber where it looked like half of the Wizengamot had convened.

Harry was internally amused, in a somewhat cynical fashion, at the resemblance of this trial to his last one. A quick glance around showed that neither Neville nor his Gran were there, and several other families he knew to have seats also appeared to be unrepresented. This time there would be no Amelia Bones to be a voice of reason, and it seemed that those in charge were leaving nothing to chance. This whole thing was a farce, again, and this time they were obviously going to get rid of him before anyone had a chance to stop them.

The Death Veil was fluttering in an unfelt breeze, and Harry could still hear faint whispers coming from it. In truth, he wasn’t afraid. Harry had stopped being afraid of dying a long time ago. Excruciating pain, yes, that he was afraid of. But dying? Being able to see Sirius again, and get to know his parents? No, dying had held no fears for him since the day he had been bitten by a basilisk.

“Harry James Potter, for the crime of being an aspiring Dark Lord, for giving aid and succor to an escaped prisoner, for taking part in illegal rituals to boost your power, for the creation of an illegal group to subvert mandates set down by the ministry…”

Harry nearly lost his calm demeanour and snorted with laughter at that one. They were using Dumbledore’s Army as evidence against him? The defence group that Hermione had insisted he form and be leader of? Oh, this was getting better and better. He only wished he could see her face… he supposed he should really be glad that he’d never mentioned to her that when Voldemort had finally shuffled off this mortal coil that Harry had received a huge boost in power. He’d told Luna, but she had waved it off with a comment about nargles. He dragged his attention back to the young attractive witch who had been listing his crimes while he woolgathered.

“we, the ruling body of this land, hereby sentence you to be cast through the Death Veil, sentence to be carried out immediately. May the gods have mercy on your soul. As tradition demands, are there any final remarks you would like to make before the sentence is carried out?”

“Only this.” Harry replied as he shrugged off the shackles that he’d been placed in on his entrance to the ministry, ignoring the of screams from the stone tiers full or wizards and witches that had gathered here over the last few hours to listen to the debate over his ‘crimes’, and the fearful shouts of those who were supposed to be containing him. He stepped up to the Veil, before turning to face the crowd. “There will be no casting required. If you wanted me gone, you should just have said.”

He dragged his gaze along those gathered before him, and didn’t see even one friendly face. That must have taken some organizing, but it also made things easier for him.

“As head of the Potter and Black houses, I declare both lines Betrayed by all those present here today, in the fullest measure. I revoke our membership and that of our cadet lines from any magical ruling body on this planet, and rescind any permissions or agreements not already renewed or ratified since my ascension to head of both families.

“As you have sown, so shall you reap.”

And then before anyone could stop him, Harry turned, and with no further dramatics walked into the Death Veil.

Chapter One

Harry had no idea what to expect when he walked through the Veil, but to appear in midair and start plummeting towards the ground was not it. Of course, if he had a broom on him there would be no problem, and his Firebolt was in his vault, which he would be able to access by way of his trusty trunk. He just didn’t really have time to retrieve it.

Wait… Firebolt, Quidditch, Oliver Wood… last time he had seen Oliver Wood they’d both got rather drunk, and he had a vague memory of Oliver slyly tapping his nose.

S’wandless, you see, Harry. Harry, Harry Harry… Wandless. So you-” pause for another mouthful of Icy Devil gin “-you don hafta go splat, see? Splat! You shust wave your hand like-” cue uncoordinated flailing that knocked over the bottle “-shit! Shit! Get that Harry, get it! Yeah, thash better. Whas I sayin? Oh yeah. S’wandless. Great for de-ack… decelery… dee… stoppin’ fallin’. No more splat. Wouldla been handy for you Harry, Harry Harry Harry. But, it’sa secret! So, don’ go tellin’ anyone, Harry Harry Harry. Cause it’sa big, big…”

Right. So there must be a wandless spell to aid in deceleration, and it couldn’t be that difficult or Wood wouldn’t have bothered with it. He wasn’t one to allow anything that required time and effort to distract him from Quidditch, even if it might save his life in the future.

Well, it wasn’t like he had the luxury of time to debate this. He focused as much of his attention as he could spare from the ground rushing towards him into the idea of the air below becoming thicker and his body lighter, and shoved as much magic as he could at it. As a final touch, he waved his hand, just in case it was necessary.

Sure enough, the ground wasn’t rising nearly as fast as it had been. This gave him a little bit of time to think, and consider what landing would be like. He’d never been skydiving, but he’d heard stories about it on the telly from his cupboard, and he vaguely remembered something about body position… he tried to angle his body away from the grey and white rocky looking expanse and towards the much softer looking green area.

It wasn’t until he was much closer that he realized he was going to fall into a forest, and that crashing through trees might not be as soft as he’d optimistically hoped for. He curled himself into a ball, and waited for the collision.


What seemed like an eternity later, he lay on the ground of the small clearing that he’d come crashing into and groaned. It could have been worse, the trees in this forest seemed quite tall, and so his fall had been broken several times before he had the wind knocked out of him on landing.

At least nothing felt like it was broken. And theoretically, a forested area should have food available for foraging and water for drinking, if he could ever bring himself to get up again. Maybe he’d just lie here for a while, and stare up at the lush green canopy far overhead. There was just the smallest glimpse of blue visible, which he supposed was his entry point. He closed his eyes, and heaved a great sigh.

He must have dozed off, because when he opened them again the light had changed significantly, taking on a golden tinge which made him think it must be getting on for late afternoon. He sat up, and was considering rising to his feet to seek shelter, when a rustle from behind him made him freeze.

Slowly, he turned to see what had made the noise.

Standing behind him was some kind of living tree thing. It was considerably taller than him, and it’s bark like skin was dark as cherry wood. It’s hair was bright pink, and for a moment Harry was reminded of Tonks so strongly he felt like he could cry. He got himself under control before he could break down, and consciously slowed his breathing.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, before the tree started speaking.

“A human!” The tree’s voice was low and slow, and seemed to vibrate slightly against Harry’s chest bone. “I can’t recall the last time I saw a human in these woods. Why are you here, little human?”

“I was banished.” Harry said, his experience with the goblins having taught him that some other magical races could tell truth from lie, and not wanting to get on the bad side of the rather large, strong looking tree in front of him. “I think it was because some corrupt but powerful people were afraid of what I might become, and took an opportunity to banish me through a gateway that everyone believes to lead to death. I appeared rather high up in the sky, and fell into your forest, I’m sorry if I unwittingly hurt anyone.”

The tree made a low rolling noise that Harry hoped was laughter.

“Do not fear, little human. There are few of my kind left in this place, and neither I, nor any of my sisters, spend time high enough to have been hurt by your fall.”

“Good, good.” Harry said, shifting somewhat nervously. After several minutes of silence, with the tree thing just staring at him, he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Please, you seem to know I’m human, but what are you called? You and your sisters, that is.” Harry felt himself redden at his lack of coherence. The last time he’d been this uncomfortable was while he was still a student, and cared what the rest of Hogwarts thought of him.

“My name is unpronounceable in your tongue, but an approximate translation would be Early Blossom of Spring.”

“Uh, would you be offended if I called you Spring Blossom then?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Not at all, little human. As for my sisters and I… we were once known as Entwives. We roamed the great forests of Middle Earth with the Ents. But the Ents were only concerned with great forests, and we Entwives wanted a chance to build beauty on a smaller scale, and give reverence to our mothers smaller creations.”

“Like flowers and bushes?” Harry suggested, slightly lulled by her slow hypnotic way of speaking.

“As you say. And so we set off to find a place to build a garden to honour our mother. We made it as far as the great golden wood of the elves before we split in two. The greater bulk of my sisters went East, where we could feel the land crying out for our touch. Some few of us, however, were drawn to the West.

“Through many seasons we travelled, delighting in the beauty our mother had strewn everywhere. We learned so much from our travels! So many wonders…”

Spring Blossom was silent for a long moment. Harry waited for her to continue, but she seemed to have lost track of the conversation completely. She stood there, swaying from side to side, eyes staring off into the distance.

“Do you all share the same mother then?” Harry asked eventually.

That low rolling rumble sounded again. Harry was really hoping it was a good thing. Spring Blossom looked strong enough to tear him in two, and he had no idea of how fast Entwives could move.

“I refer to the Valar whose pleas moved The One and caused our creation. We were his gift to Yavanna, the Giver of Fruits.”



  1. AG

    Sounds like it could be an interesting story. It’s been a few years since I read the Ring trilogy.

    Actually, since he can pass messages through the trunk, I’d really like to see letters from Luna or the Goblins about the mess his last statement created in his original world. Maybe as interludes or something.

    Did Sirius fall into the same world? The Entwife said she couldn’t remember seeing another human, but what about a black dog?

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