The Arkenstone

Reading Time: 44 Minutes

Title: The Arkenstone
Series: Small Magic
Series Order: 4
Author: Keira Marcos
Fandom: The Hobbit, Harry Potter
Relationships: Harry Potter/Hermione Granger, Thorin Oakenshield/Bilbo Baggins, Fíli/OFC, Kíli/OMC, Dís/OMC, OMC/OMC, OMC/OFC,
Genre: Adventure, Crossover, Mpreg, Cabbage Patch Babies, Alternate Universe, Dimensional Travel, Romance, Fusion
Warnings: Explicit Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Bashing, Grammarly Beta, Character Death (no mains), Discussion-War, Discussion-Torture, Politics of the Middle Earth Variety, Smaug has an undignified end, Grammarly Beta
Word Count: 10,981
Author’s Note: I’m incredibly jaded. I have no respect for canon, timelines, or even LOTR geography. Don’t get twisted.
Summary: The company confronts Smaug and the curse on the line of Durin.

* * * *

It took them two months to shape and carve the rune stones. As it turned out, shaping stones for a magical purpose was quite different than what one would do for building. The first few stones they’d made had fallen apart under the weight of the magical runes once Hadrian had empowered them. That had sent Hermione into research mode, and she’d pulled out her library so Ori and Balin could help. Translation spells on the books had come in especially handy during that phase of the project. Thorin had ventured into the library trunk just once—it was four times the size of any library he’d ever been inside and rather overwhelmingly magical.

In the end, they’d all learned to find and follow the shape that each stone wished to be. This made for nearly unbreakable ward stones, which Hadrian had been immensely pleased with. The rune carving had fallen to just six in the end—himself, Kíli, Bilbo, Ori, Balin, and Hadrian. Thorin had been genuinely surprised by how easy the rune craft came to him and very proud of how powerful Kíli had proven to be in the art.

They’d had numerous conversations with Ragnok using the magical mirror regarding both Smaug and the dverger’s circumstances. Ragnok had been both leery and intrigued by Thorin’s offer of sanctuary. No decision had been made as of yet, but Thorin hoped that the chieftain would make a decision before it was made for him by the other dverger clans on Earth.

He appreciated the fact that Ragnok wasn’t rushing a choice for his whole clan and that he was invested in their welfare in a way that was familiar to him. Thorin could relate to the concerns and the care the other dwarf demonstrated.

They watched Lake-town from afar, and Hadrian had flown over Mirkwood a few times, though the elves hadn’t stirred either. Thorin was surprised, daily, that they hadn’t been discovered and wondered just how diminished Thranduil was in the wake of the corruption of his forest that he’d missed the amount of magic that Hadrian and Hermione had thrown around regularly since their arrival. He’d thought the elf king much more sensitive to magic than what was evident to them.

Hadrian’s owls had come to him near the end of August, and the female had been carrying a letter from Gandalf, who had decided to travel to Isengard to have a very long discussion with the White Wizard. It was a worrisome development, but they’d all agreed that Gandalf could take care of himself. Hadrian had decided that if Gandalf didn’t make an appearance by Durin’s Day, he would go to Isengard to retrieve the maia himself.

Thorin let his gaze move away from Lake-town so that he could focus on Hadrian, who was flying a lazy circle around the mountain on his broom. They’d set the final ward stone, and the wizard was checking the construction to ensure that they’d contained the dragon. The ward had been designed to allow the company entry specifically, but to contain the dragon indefinitely should they all perish in the attempt to kill him.

Hadrian landed near him after a few minutes and stored his broom. “We’re ready.”

Thorin nodded. “The ward has lessened the pull of the gold.”

“It’s not the gold that calls you,” Harry said grimly. “It’s the curse. We’ll need to invest ourselves in finding out what object Saruman used to bring the curse to Erebor, and it’s time we have a frank discussion about what to do with you once we enter the mountain.”

Thorin nodded. He didn’t look forward to it, but it could no longer be ignored. With the ward settled, they no longer had an excuse for not entering the mountain. Hadrian had already set an entry point on one of the battlements. They were no longer bound to the ground, which meant entering the mountain would be the work of nothing. Hermione had carved a path straight up the mountain to the broken battlement, though she’d blocked it off to prevent him or someone else of the Line of Durin from entering the mountain alone. Thorin wasn’t the only one being lured into the mountain by the gold.

He followed the wizard into the tent and relaxed slightly as he was enveloped in the safety the magical space provided. The months they’d spent living in the tent had been some of the most peaceful he’d known since the fall of Erebor. He slept through the night most nights—well, at least he slept through the night when Bilbo Baggins wasn’t sneaking into his blankets. Not that he was complaining, at all. He’d go without sleep anytime Bilbo wanted, and it had been weeks since Hadrian had outright brooded over their relationship.

“What’s for dinner?” Thorin asked as he peeked into the pot Bilbo had in front of him. The hobbit was up on a very sturdy step ladder in front of a pot bigger than him. “You’re not going to try to lift this pot of boiling water, right?”

“Of course not,” Bilbo said and used his finger to push him back a bit. “We’re using this water to cook the pasta.”

“What’s pasta?”

Dishes from Earth had featured here and there in their diet, but Thorin thought the three of them were being sneaky about introducing new types of food to prevent protests.

“It’s a wheat-based dough that you can dry and store for long periods of time,” Bilbo explained. “This particular pasta has been cut into long strings. We’re having spaghetti for dinner. The pasta will be covered in a meat-and-tomato sauce. Hermione thinks we’ll like it a lot, so you’ll have to pretend to like it, even if you don’t.”

Thorin laughed. “I’ve liked everything they’ve introduced so far—even the chicken salad, which was not at all what I thought it was going to be.”

“I loved the tuna version of myself. Harry said he would travel to Harlindon in the summer to see about buying fish. He hopes to find tuna or something similar in the human markets there. He has an apparition point in the Grey Havens, so travel to that area will be very easy for him.”

Thorin nodded. “He mentioned that he might be able to create a system of gateways to allow our traders to travel to various settlements around Arda. Dwalin is concerned about security, of course, but we’ll have plenty of time to work that out after…well…after the decision is made about Smaug.”

Bilbo turned to him. “What if we can’t kill the dragon? What if the best choice is to confine him in Erebor?”

“Then we’ll kick the orcs out of the Grey Mountains sooner rather than later,” Hadrian said as he joined them. “Is this ready to be poured out?”

“Yes,” Bilbo said and left the ladder. “Be careful, lad. That’s a lot of boiling water.”

Thorin agreed with that assessment, so he pulled his hobbit out of the way as Hadrian used his magic to levitate the pot from the stove and move it over the sink. The water was poured into a large bowl that was littered with dozens of holes. It drained out, leaving a mass of long pale strings behind. It didn’t look appetizing at all. Perhaps they’d finally stumbled upon a dish from Earth that he would have to suffer to eat.

Twenty minutes later, he was faced with a plate of spaghetti and a lesson from the little baroness on how to twirl pasta onto his fork. Bombur took the first bite—he always did with new food, and the dwarf made a pleased sound that made the rest of the company immediately start eating. Thorin had to admit, on his fourth mouthful, that it was very good. Relieved and resolved to ignore the state of undressed pasta, he tucked in.

Red wine was being served with the meal, so Thorin picked up his glass and snagged a piece of crusty bread as everyone settled into investing themselves in the meal.

“The ward is settled,” Harry said. “It’s investing in the magic of the mountain and should be essentially permanent within the next twenty-four hours. In the future, we can make changes to the ward scheme using the wardstone, which is currently nestled as close to the top of the mountain as I could secure it. I’ll be able to move it later, if we can kill Smaug, so it’s deep inside the mountain.” He focused on Hermione. “Tell them your plan for containing the curse.”

Hermione broke a piece of bread open and buttered it. “I’ve enchanted a medallion for each of you to wear—until we’ve dismantled the curse, we can’t be for certain that only the line of Durin is susceptible to it. We’ll work under the assumption that Harry and I are the only ones safe from the curse since it was clearly designed to impact those of dwarven heritage.”

“Which means even Bilbo could be at risk because of his dwarf ancestor,” Ori said.

“It’s best to act as if he were at risk,” Dwalin said in agreement. “He’s already been lured by gold once, and we can’t say for certain that Sauron’s magic in the ring was the only reason he picked it up. He’s very fond of his things and his home. And grew irate several times when we were in Bag End because we touched his things.”

Bilbo scowled at him. “You lot were throwing my mother’s dishes around, and moreover, I had nothing prepared for that particularly little party since Gandalf didn’t tell me I would have guests.”

Thorin reached out and put his hand on Bilbo’s arm. “Wait…are you saying that we weren’t invited? The wizard said you were expecting us and you had all of that…oh. That food was for you alone, wasn’t it?”

Bilbo blushed. “The front pantry holds the food I expect to eat during any week, yes.” He took a deep breath. “But I am fond of my things, Dwalin’s right about that, and all the Tooks have a few hoarding tendencies, though that lends itself to books and the like. But my ancestor was a Firebeard.” That caused several snorts. “What?”

“It’s just not a surprise,” Fíli said. “Firebeards are quite known for being….” He trailed off and grinned. “Pretty.”

Bilbo huffed and threw a piece of bread at him. Fíli caught it and promptly ate it. “But yes, I suppose you weren’t invited. Still, I’ve had uninvited guests in the past that weren’t nearly as entertaining as the thirteen of you turned out to be.” He focused on Hermione. “What’s the medallion do?”

“Nothing unless the curse tries to interact with your magic,” Hermione began. “It will actively use your own magic to push the curse away. This won’t be physically taxing, of course, but it will prevent you from using your magic at all while it’s invested in fighting the curse. I hope that Harry can find the source and contain it quickly after we take care of Smaug, but if we can’t, then you might find yourselves quite limited… craft-wise.”

“It’s a small price to pay to keep one’s sanity,” Thorin said gravely. “I’d wear the medallion for the rest of my life to keep my mind safe from the fate my father and grandfather suffered.”

“Great, because the other option would be to sedate you one by one and toss you in my mokeskin pouch,” Hadrian said with a grin and laughed at the looks of horror he got in return. He shrugged. “Simple plans are best.”

Thorin frowned at Bilbo. “I think he gets that from you, too.”

Bilbo seemed to consider that, but then nodded. “The more complicated you make a task, the more likely you are to fail at it.”

* * * *

Harry set the mirror up and activated it. A few moments passed before Ragnok appeared. Based on his calculations, it was mid-morning on Earth, so it wasn’t a surprise to see the dverger dressed for the workday.

“Good morning, sir.”

“You’re wearing your armor,” Ragnok said. “It’s time then?”

“We’re going to try to gather some information on the situation inside the mountain, yes.” Harry let his hand curl into a fist against his thigh since his mentor couldn’t see it. “I’ve put every single charm I could think of on my ada, but he refuses to stay behind.”

“He’s an adult,” Ragnok pointed out.

“He’s 3’6 and weighs fifty-four pounds,” Harry said and glanced briefly toward his bedroom door. The very light privacy charm wouldn’t keep anyone out, but it would let him know if someone was about to enter the room. “I can’t….”

“He’s an adult,” Ragnok repeated. “And we’ve had this discussion before, Hadrian. You can not enjoy free will and take it from others as you see fit. Speaking of, I’ve completed the survey of all the adults in my clan. Not a single one is opposed to migrating to Arda. In fact, many of them are excited to be part of a world where we aren’t forced to hide ourselves or our magic. Have you considered the ramifications for Oakenshield’s people?”

“His clan was decimated by the dragon,” Harry allowed. “The Longbeards number less than a thousand. Your clan represents an opportunity to rebuild his numbers without bowing down to the will of the dwarrow clans on his world that turned their backs on him when he needed them most. Additionally, you’d bring magic back to his people that has been lost since the first age. He’s honorable even in his severely cursed state and works every moment he’s awake to ignore the call of the gold he’s been cursed to covet above everything and everyone.” He frowned. “I mean, he’s shagging my ada, which I’m not really on board with, but I know that I don’t have any sort of right to an opinion about that.”

Ragnok laughed. “Hermione said you were being quite unreasonable about the whole thing. I probably did you no service at all to introduce you to a witch practically raised as a dverger. Her sensibilities are far more like ours than they ever were magical people. Dumbledore was horrified when she accepted Lenore as her mentor and tried repeatedly to interfere, as he didn’t want the brightest witch of the age tainted by us further. I can’t say he was thrilled at all that she took her first mastery with Filius Flitwick, and he’s half-wizard.”

“I really should’ve kicked the shite out of that old git before I left.” Harry took a deep breath. “We’ve about three weeks left until Durin’s Day, so no one expects to see us at all until then. I can hope we can subdue and kill Smaug before that.”

“Once he’s dead, put the carcass in a stasis so I can access it for our use.”

“You’re coming then?” Harry asked.

“I expect I only have another month left before there is an official challenge,” Ragnok admitted. “We’re already packing. I’ll treat with Oakenshield after a decision is made regarding the dragon—dead or not. If you can’t kill him by yourself, then you can certainly keep him hostage long enough for us to come along and help you solve that problem. Just don’t let him kill you before I get there, lad, it would really piss me off.”

It was overwhelming.

Harry just nodded. “I’ll let the others know.”

Shortly thereafter, the conversation ended for several long moments. Harry sat where he was, let himself be relieved.

A knock on the door shook him loose from his thoughts, and he turned just as the door opened.

“Ready, lad?” Dwalin asked.

“Yes.” Harry stored the mirror and stood.

“You’ve had another talk with Ragnok then?”

“Yes, and I need to speak with the king.” Harry slipped past the dwarf and walked into the main room of the tent. “Has everyone put the medallions on?”

“Yes, and Hermione finished the fireproof charms on our cloaks,” Bilbo said. “How did it go with Ragnok? Any final tips on the whole dragon thing?”

“He’d really prefer that none of us get killed before he gets here,” Harry said, and focused on Oakenshield, who looked briefly overwhelmed. “Also, if we can’t take Smaug out with the current plan, then Ragnok has requested that we contain him until he gets here so we can use our combined magical power to finish the job. He has more than enough high magical art users in his clan to help me subdue Smaug with brute force magic.”

“They’re coming then.”

“Every adult voted yes to the migration,” Harry said. “They’ll all swear fealty to your crown on their magic upon your coronation and accept integration into the Longbeard clan. Ragnok will, of course, have terms regarding the use of their magic and the recognition of various guilds and masteries within their clan. They’re packing as we speak.”

“How many?”

“In total—a little over fourteen thousand dverger,” Harry admitted, and Oakenshield sat down.

“How many are underage?” Ori asked curiously.

“There are easily over a thousand dverger children under the age of thirty in Britain,” Hermione said. “Plus, several hundred under the age of seventy-five. We don’t have exact numbers as they guard such information zealously.” She paused. “How will the other dwarf clans here react to them?”

“I don’t honestly care how they’ll react,” Thorin admitted. “I’ve not even considered it because what they want stopped mattering to me when the lords of those clans turned their backs on me. They didn’t fight for Erebor—not in any single way, so they don’t get a say in what I do with her.” He took a deep breath. “Most of them haven’t even lifted a finger to help me feed my people in times when we were suffering the most. Frankly, none of those mountains would’ve been stressed to send us supplies, yet our plight was ignored outright after my father disappeared.”

“We’ll send out an announcement inviting them to kiss all of our arses,” Hermione decided and grinned at the looks that earned her. Over the past few weeks, she’d started to glory in shocking the dwarrow. “Maybe I’ll include an animated drawing of Smaug in a death flail.”

“I’d prefer my people here in the mountain before we tell anyone to kiss our arses,” Thorin said. “But once that’s accomplished, you may feel free to send letters to anyone you’d like.”

* * * *

The climb up the mountain to the broken battlement was the work of just thirty minutes, but Harry kept his mind focused on the task and didn’t allow himself to worry about what was going to happen once they got inside. He’d equipped everyone magically the best he could, and as long as Smaug didn’t actually get ahold of them physically, no one was really in all that much danger. He’d tested the anti-flame charms thoroughly, and nothing short of a volcano was going to set anyone on fire. Though, in all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure how hot the fire of an Arda dragon could get.

Everyone was armed; he’d even convinced his father to carry his crossbow, though Harry could tell he was being humored on that front. His ada had no illusions about his ability to kill Smaug. They were counting on Kíli to make a shot if it were possible and had created several magically reinforced arrows just for that purpose. In the months since Kíli had taken the jaw rune, the dwarf’s beard had appeared to almost sprout overnight, which made Harry think that the young prince had been trimming it damn nearly daily to keep it looking as sparse as possible, no matter the social consequences.

He dropped down onto the stone floor of the battlement, and one by one the others came over the ledge to join him. Hermione and his Ada came last. He really wished they’d stay outside the mountain, and it must have shown on his face because he was glared at fiercely by them both.

“You know, Ada, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“She’s right, and you’re wrong,” Bilbo declared and checked his crossbow.

They’d added runes to the small weapon—it now fired conjured iron bolts, and the night before, during target practice, his father had managed to fire over a hundred such bolts in under two minutes. He’d hit every single target, which had impressed the dwarrow even as it had actually, obviously, horrified his ada’s hobbit sensibilities. They had a larger version of the bow under construction for Kíli, but it wasn’t anywhere near ready for a conflict since the dwarf certainly wouldn’t feel comfortable using it in battle without a great deal of practice.

“I’m ready,” Bilbo declared. “Let’s get going.”

Oakenshield hesitated.

“Right now, Thorin. I signed up to do a job, and I’m going to do it,” Bilbo declared and glared at him.

“For fuck’s sake,” Thorin muttered and turned. “We’re on the west battlement—if the staircases are intact, then we can make our way down from here to the treasury, which is surely where that foul bastard has made his nest. It’s a twenty-minute walk.” He turned to Harry. “You’re sure he won’t be able to smell us?”

“Hermione can’t smell any of us, so it makes me think that the odor-masking spell is working as best as it can. Due to her animagus form, she has a profoundly good sense of smell.”

“What’s an animagus form?” Ori questioned as they followed Thorin down into the mountain from the battlement.

“Magical people can turn into animals if they put in the work to connect with their spirit animal,” Hermione explained in a low tone despite the security they’d activated to remain essentially silent to anyone outside of their party. “I sought my animagus spirit during the training we undertook with the dverger.”

“You can turn into an animal, and we’re just now learning about that?” Dwalin asked roughly. “What kind of animal?”

“A lioness,” Hermione admitted, and flushed when she got several shocked looks in return. “A cave lion, to be exact, but the natural species is extinct on my world. They’re not extinct here, however, so I was worried about showing you since every book I’ve read that I received from Arwen listed them as one of the more deadlier predators on Arda.”

“With good reason,” Dwalin said roughly. “They’re normally twice the size of a bloody warg. Later, you’re going to show us.” He glanced toward Harry. “Do you have one, lad?”

“Yes, actually, but nothing so pleasing as Hermione’s, at least when it comes to defense. I can turn into a snake.”

“Good for spying,” Nori said. “How big, color?”

“Very small and black,” Harry admitted. “And I did do a lot of spying in my form during the war on my world. I’m also venomous in my form, so I took out quite a few enemies who never saw me coming at all.”

“Good,” Nori said. “Very good, in fact. Is the species common on Arda?”

“I’ve never seen it here. On Earth, my form is called a Death Adder. I could fit in Ada’s pocket without an expansion charm.” Harry grinned when his father laughed. “Animagus are rare amongst our people because of the amount of work involved in achieving the transformation. It can take several years of study to accomplishment, but we had a lot of time in the time-chamber to gain that knowledge.”

The conversation drifted away as they moved deeper into the mountain, and nothing was said as Oakenshield led them onto a balcony just above the treasury. A guard station, surely, as it provided an excellent view of the entire room. The only part of Smaug that was visible was the tail, which he was slowly swishing through the gold coins. Not asleep, Harry thought, and obviously aware that he was no longer alone in the mountain.

They all stood there, watching the tail swish, until, in an avalanche of gold, Smaug reared up out of the hoard and twisted his long body as if to stretch.

“Tell me, thief, why can’t I smell you?” Smaug demanded. “Why can’t I hear you breathe?” He lifted his head, and his gaze drifted over them, though Harry was confident the dragon couldn’t actually see them. “Yet, I feel your magic. It is delicious. So different from the nasty little creatures I drove from my mountain all those years ago.”

Hermione’s hand clenched in his, and Oakenshield took a deep, outraged breath at Smaug’s claim.

Bilbo nudged Harry, and he reluctantly took the silencing charm off his father. “I’m not a thief at all, actually.”

“What are you then?” Smaug demanded. “Not a nasty little dwarf—you’re something very special and interesting.”

“Oh, I’m nothing special at all,” Bilbo declared. “There are thousands of people just like me running around my homeland. In fact, I’d go on record and say I’m quite average for my species.”

“Impossible, I’d know if such magical creatures existed.”

Smaug shifted on the gold, displaying his chest plate, which was covered in jewels and smelted gold. The dragon had made himself armor. There were three empty patches on his chest, but the one high up on his breast seemed the best target. Harry shared a look with Kíli, and the young dwarf gave a jerky nod. Harry focused on a guard alcove directly across from them and silently apparated to it. His gaze met Hermione’s, and he drew his staff.

Smaug’s head jerked, and his gaze seemed to center on Harry. He turned and looked at the first alcove again. “There are two of you? Two such magical creatures? Amazing. Tell me all about you, now!”

“Why should I?” Bilbo questioned.

“Tell me!” Smaug screamed and whipped his tail around to hit the small balcony.

Harry lurched forward and threw out a repairing spell, but it was too late; the structure collapsed, and the entire company spilled out into the treasure. He watched them scramble across the gold and did the only thing he could. He hit Smaug with the strongest stunner he had. The dragon stumbled and shook his head briefly before clawing at the gold. At least he couldn’t see them, Harry realized. Another spell shot toward the dragon as Hermione gained her feet. Her copper stave was glowing with power.

Unfortunately, it was a power that Smaug could see. The dragon lurched forward, struggling under her spell, and Harry fired again. It left him pinned to the gold, and there was no way they could reach his vulnerable spot from that angle. The dragon struggled and thrashed against the two spells, and a heaviness settled in Harry’s chest as he continued to throw magic into the spell. Hermione fell to her knees, but her stream of magic never changed.

Then an iron bolt slammed into Smaug’s right eye. The dragon screamed in agony, and for a moment, he was still. Harry used the shock of the injury to flip the dragon over. Smaug blew a stream of fire straight upward at him. It washed over him in a horrific wave of heat, and his ada shouted his name. He didn’t have enough air left to respond. The fire disappeared in a flash, and Harry slumped against the railing of the balcony in shock as he stared down at Smaug as he was forced to end his spell.

There was another bolt in his head and an arrow in his chest. He looked across the treasure and found Kíli standing on a pile of gold, bow primed with another arrow.

“Is it dead?” Hermione demanded as she gained her feet.

Oakenshield scrambled over the gold, elven sword drawn, and pushed it deep into the dragon’s chest next to Kíli’s arrow just as Smaug gave a ragged breath. The body slumped onto the coin, and Harry looked toward Hermione. She took a deep breath and stowed her stave with a practiced flick. Then, she fainted.

Harry hooked a leg over the railing and dropped down on the gold even as the rest of the company started wading through the treasure to her side. They made room for him as soon as he reached them, and he dropped down to his knees beside her.

He checked her pulse and relaxed a little. “Magical exhaustion, but I don’t have the magic left to check her and get us back to the tent.” He drew a potion out of his bracelet. “We’re both going to be useless for the next day or so.” He pulled out his mirror and passed it to his father. “Just in case Ragnok calls and asks for an update.” He took a pepper-up potion and stored the vial. “I’m going to apparate us to the tent, and I’ll probably pass out shortly after that.”

Bilbo nodded and sat back on his heels as his son picked up his future daughter-in-law and they both popped away. He looked at the dragon’s carcass and scowled. “I can’t believe you arseholes expected me to steal anything from that.”

Thorin burst out laughing, so Bilbo shoved him. The dwarf king fell back on the gold and continued to laugh, which set the rest of the company off.

“Let’s go back to the tent to keep watch over them while they sleep,” Dwalin said after everyone had laughed themselves out. “It doesn’t feel right to leave them vulnerable after what they’ve just done. The path into the mountain is only available to us, and no one knows, yet, that Smaug is dead.”

“Agreed,” Thorin said. “It’s best not to get complacent regarding the curse. The medallions seem to be working very well, but there’s no need to test the magic while we’re…I’d hate to fall deeper into the curse and cause Hadrian more work in the end regarding breaking it.”

* * * *

Bilbo started when the mirror activated. Fortunately, Ragnok didn’t appear too upset to see his face instead of Harry’s. “Hello.”

Ragnok took a deep breath. “Bilbo Baggins. Has Hadrian been injured?”

“No, but he’s magically exhausted. They managed to hold Smaug down while we killed him, but it took—well, I put his eyes out with my crossbow, Kíli got an arrow into his chest, then Thorin finally shoved his sword in as well. Hermione fainted afterward, but Harry didn’t think she was injured either.”

“She’d have been quite depleted to faint,” Ragnok murmured. “While she’s not as powerful as Hadrian, she’s easily one of the strongest witches alive from this world. I’ve seen her cast on a near continuous basis for several hours at a time and not weaken to such a point.”

“The dragon is enormous, and he was able to physically fight their stunning spells,” Bilbo explained and nodded when Ragnok raised an eyebrow. “But he’s dead. We’re all back in the tent since we didn’t want to leave Harry and Hermione alone while they slept—they’re both deeply unconscious. Smaug…felt their magic. He was responding to it and could sense their locations in the room despite the security spells they’d used to hide all of us. It isn’t in stasis yet, but I think it’ll be fine for a bit. I’ve noticed that it’s not degraded at all since yesterday.”

“His magic may preserve him for weeks,” Ragnok said. “Dragons and other magical creatures on Earth are often protected even in death if their bodies are deeply invested with magic. How is your king? Has the curse managed to circumvent the charms that Hermione created?”

“Not so far—none of them are acting off. We went back this morning to make sure the dragon was actually dead and that none of us had any trouble leaving the treasury. Thorin told me once that his grandfather often had to be dragged away from the gold to eat.”

Ragnok nodded. “Very well, are you near Hadrian and Hermione?”

“They’re asleep in his room, but I can enter. Why?”

“Check their skin—they should be very warm to the touch, almost as if they’re running a fever.”

“If they’re not?”

“Then they’ve damaged their magic, and they will need assistance in recovery. I can pass potions through the mirror to you.”

Bilbo stood up and quickly went to the back of the smial to enter his son’s room. They were curled up together, still dressed in their armor, on top of the blankets. He touched Harry first, and his son stirred briefly under his hand, but Bilbo hushed him gently as if he were still a child, and Harry settled back down. “He’s very warm.” He touched Hermione’s cheek carefully, then her forehead. “She’s certainly running a fever.”

“Good,” Ragnok declared. “She’ll probably wake up first. They’ll both be very hungry when they wake up, so be prepared to feed them—lots of bread, meat, and potatoes. Magical people thrive on starches and protein. He’ll wake up shortly after he reaches the fever stage. Their magic is rebuilding itself, which is the reason for the heat in their bodies. The hotter they are, the closer they are to replenishing their core naturally.”

Bilbo relaxed. “I’m glad you activated the mirror. I wished last night that I could, but I know why Harry has it spelled to his magical signature.”

“He’s always been very invested in security,” Ragnok said as Bilbo left the bedroom and headed toward the kitchen.

“How does the packing go?”

“Very well, we’re currently in the midst of putting our livestock in stasis for the trip.”

“Livestock?” Bilbo questioned.

“I certainly can’t expect Oakenshield to feed my clan on such short notice,” Ragnok said wryly. “Our high magical art users eat very much like a hobbit.”

Bilbo laughed. “Ah, I see. How will you bring them?”

“We have large enclosures that we call quarterages that have the same spells as the tent you’re currently in. We’ll make them sleep for the trip just in case, but they’ll live in the crates. Each one is five square leagues in size, so they have room to roam, graze, and the like. We’re bringing cows, chickens, pigs, and sheep.”

“Ah, too bad you can’t bring tuna. Harry’s recently realized that we don’t have tuna here, though he’s hoping to find something similar when he goes west to trade in the spring.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Ragnok said with a grin. “We’ve also trunks that act as gardens—we had no choice when the human world started to intrude on the magical one. The magical people refused to share land with us. We retreated fully underground and developed methods for growing our own food in our caves. The advantage is that not only can we grow food year-round, we can also grow food that would never grow in our actual environment. I have a coffee plantation that is the envy of the entire Horde.”

“If it’s the coffee that Hadrian has supplied us—I do hope you plan to bring it,” Thorin said as he sat down at the table. “I could live on it.”

“His preferred bean is, in fact, from my plantation,” Ragnok said. “How do you fare, Your Majesty?”

“Old, tired, and stunned,” Thorin said as the mirror was passed to him. He propped it up in the manner he’d often seen Hadrian do. “And you? What’s the first move your opponents will make to unseat you as chieftain? Is a physical invasion probable?”

“No, I’ll be challenged in single combat. Currently, seven clan leaders are preparing to petition me, so I’d be forced to face them one after another until I was either victorious over them all or dead on the floor. If I have a physical incursion, it will be from that blasted wizard, Dumbledore, who thinks that he can attack me because I’m at odds with the other clans. But what he doesn’t quite understand is that they’ll turn on him en masse should he do such a thing.”

Thorin nodded. “You’re not going to accept the challenge, right?”

“My pride would say yes, but I’ve bigger concerns than the politics of this situation. My wife, my child, and my grandchildren must come first. I promised Lenora, foolishly, that I would never die before her. I won’t keep that promise by accepting challenges from seven dverger half my age. I’d be lucky to survive the first two.”

“You have tents like this one to house your families? The mountain is a mess—in more than one way. The bones of my people are scattered across the floors of many of the rooms. He destroyed everything he could and befouled the place in just the fashion you’d assume wherever he could.”

“It’s more tomb than home at this point,” Ragnok murmured. “We can clean it fairly easily with magic. Hadrian can clear a place for us once he’s back on his feet. He’ll know how much room we’ll need to make a base camp of sorts.

“The central hall has standing room for thirty thousand, though it hasn’t housed that many in this age,” Thorin said. “But it’s not far from the front gates, which are in severe disrepair. We’ll need to fix that quickly to protect the mountain from outside attack. Considering how much gold we’re sitting on—being invaded for it is a concern.” He paused. “Speaking of—you’ll have to melt down all of your coin and restrike it to adhere to our own money system here.”

“We started that process shortly after the vote. We’ve decided to wait until we’re there to cast the coin, so we can ensure we have the standard down correctly. We have various samples of different currencies from across Arda that Hadrian brought us. I have the clan conclave preparing the migration gateway. As Hadrian refused to anchor it on your end unless I proved it wouldn’t kill me, my son took the project on and has come upon a method of empowerment that will wipe out the magical reserves we’ve built that currently ward our home.”

“And that’s not dangerous for any of you?”

“Magic is dangerous, but I trust my son, and he’s confident of his methodology. He’s a mastery in ritual magic, which is the most difficult magical discipline that we can undertake.”

“What is your master craft?” Thorin asked, and Bilbo left them to the conversation in favor of preparing a meal for his children.

He paused briefly at that but then nodded. Hermione would be his daughter-in-law soon enough. He hoped she’d agree to call him ada.

“I hold dual masteries in defense and blood magic. I met my wife while I studied blood magic in another country. I stole her, basically, from another clan. They were not at all happy. In fact, my first challenge as chieftain came from her former clan, as they were still immensely insulted to have lost a dam of her magical talent. She has masteries in blood magic and transfiguration. Harry told me that you watched Hermione craft a bridge with transfiguration.”

“It was startling,” Thorin admitted. “The magic users of our world are nothing like them or your people, for that matter.”

“Our people,” Ragnok corrected. “You look enough like my brother that it was startling to the point of painful the first time I saw you.”

“Hadrian told me you lost him during the war. You have my sympathies for your losses. I lost my own brother in battle. It’s a pain like no other.”

“Yes, and two of his sons,” Ragnok said. “But I did my best to avenge them. It was my brother’s death that destroyed the treaty we had with the government that prevented us from taking up arms against the wizarding kind. Garrick was acting as an envoy to Hadrian’s encampment. He was taken and tortured for information—when he refused to give it, the Death Eaters killed him and left his body in front of my bank.”

“Harry told us about that. He still carries a great deal of guilt regarding Garrick’s capture,” Bilbo said as he brought a bowl of potatoes to the table to peel.

“Your son makes it his business to assume as much guilt as possible,” Ragnok said roughly. “It’s easily his biggest fault.”

“How will the migration spell work?”

“Hadrian told me that you’ve used a portkey.”

“Yes, I have to admit that I enjoyed it,” Thorin said and grinned when the dverger laughed.

“The migration platform will work much like a portkey, except we’ll create a pathway between this world and yours. While we could do it without an anchor, having Harry create a landing zone for us will ease the power and spell burden. We’ll transport roughly 100 individuals at a time, so it won’t happen quickly. We’ll need at least a full day to accomplish it. I’ll come in the last group, and we’ll leave nothing behind that would allow others to follow us.”

* * * *

Harry shifted slightly as Hermione moved to sit up. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Hermione murmured and moved back down into his arms with a huff. “I’m so fucking tired I could sleep for a year, but I’m also starving.”

“I could eat the better part of that dragon,” Harry admitted and grinned when she laughed. “We need to get up and start work. We’ll need to clear out a space big enough for Oakenshield’s people, break the blood curse, put the dragon in stasis, build the transportation gateway, and I have to anchor a ritual circle for Razel.”

“Big list—what’s the priority?”

“Well, our first must-do will be storing the dragon carcass,” Harry said. “The rest will be for Oakenshield to decide, I guess. I think he’ll want his people from the Blue Mountains here before Durin’s Day, so that will be his focus. Ragnok’s situation is fluid and could change rapidly, so my priority will be building the connection to Razel.”

“What if those from the Blue Mountains protest the migration of the dverger?”

“Then you and I will leave—we’ll find some unclaimed land, and I’ll build the ritual circle there. Then Ragnok can treat with Oakenshield as any other dwarf lord on Arda. We’d have no issues clearing out the Grey Mountains for Ragnok’s people, but the King Under the Mountain knows very well he needs the dverger’s numbers to increase the power and standing of his own clan. He’s not going to part with them easily. The other dwarf lords have broken faith with him, and he won’t forget it. I think he’s forgiven it, but they’ll never enjoy the relationship they want with Erebor—not in any single way.”

“I smell bacon.”

“For the love of Merlin, I think Ada is making bacon cheeseburgers.”

“Oh.” She pulled free and rolled right out of the bed. “Giving him that cookbook from Earth was the best decision ever!” She trotted right out of his room without another word.

Harry laughed and scooted off the bed as well. By the time he reached the kitchen, Hermione was at the table assembling her cheeseburger with the kind of concentration she normally reserved for really complicated potions. The dwarrow were watching in amused silence. She had a whole plate of fried potatoes on her left. Harry would’ve complained if his Ada didn’t have more in the deep fryer they’d set up. He dropped down in the chair beside her and was promptly given his own plate.

“I love you,” Harry said, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was talking to his father or the unassembled sandwich on his plate. He made quick work of piling it together and wasn’t at all daunted by the fact that the finished product was taller than his mouth was big. “I wish I had ketchup.”

“How do you two feel?” Oakenshield asked.

Hermione waved a hand as she chewed. Then she flicked a bottle of ketchup out of her bracelet and offered it.

“Merlin, woman, we must talk about the contents of your bracelet,” he exclaimed and snagged the bottle. He swirled a generous portion on his bun and put it all back together. “Do you have any malt vinegar?”

She produced it and promptly doused her fried potatoes in it. “What sort of Englishwoman do you take me for? What else would go on chips?” She took another bite of her hamburger and chewed it with a near pornographic groan. “I’m going to need two more of these!”

Bilbo laughed. “Yes, I thought you might. Ragnok told us that you’d be starving when you woke up.”

“I feel fine,” Harry said after he’d eaten half of his hamburger. “Tired, but it’s more magical-tired than physical-tired. How long did we sleep?”

“A little over a full day,” Balin said. “We’ve started repairing the front gates from inside the mountain. No one, yet, knows that we’ve taken care of the dragon. Lake-town seems to be bustling along as normal, and there’s been no movement from Mirkwood that we could ascertain. Ragnok has started to prepare for the migration in earnest.” He paused and shared a glance with Thorin. “We think it would be best, politically, if the settlement in the Blue Mountains was brought here first.”

“I don’t disagree,” Harry admitted. “Are those who would protest the dverger coming to Erebor?”

“There are a few of the old guard that protest everything I do,” Thorin said roughly. “They were on my father’s council and assume to be my council as well, though I’ve never sat a formal one. When I do, they’ll be in for a very rude awakening.”

“Why?” Hermione questioned.

“Because the King’s Council is seated at this very table,” Thorin said evenly. “I won’t have a single one of those bastards who ignored my call for this quest to advise me on anything in the future.”

“That’ll go over terribly,” Dwalin muttered. “I look forward to every minute of it.”

Balin nodded. “It certainly has the potential to be entertaining. It would be best if Ragnok were to be included in any council you form. His people will probably expect it considering their numbers and circumstances.”

“They’ll be my people the moment they set foot in Erebor,” Thorin said. “All of the adults have sworn this already and will make vows on their magic upon my coronation, Balin. Still, I don’t disagree, and I’m certain we’ll need Ragnok’s council when it comes to integrating the more magical members of his clan into our own. Plus, I’d not want his wife or son to suffer a severe loss of status if it can be avoided.” He turned to Harry. “You said before you can ensure no one enters the mountain who is disloyal to the line of Durin.”

“Yes.”

“Could you put such magic on the temporary gateway in the Blue Mountains so that only those loyal to me will be able to use it to migrate?”

“Yes, and I was going to suggest it. I know you’re a bit uncomfortable with asking your clan to swear their fealty on their magic.”

“If they proved disloyal and were cast from my mountain, they could and probably would lose their ability to craft,” Thorin murmured. “They wouldn’t even be able to make their way in the human towns after such a loss.”

“Granted, but what do you owe a traitor?” Harry asked evenly. “Moreover, if they can’t swear a simple loyalty oath to the crown, then how can you be expected to trust them with what you hold dear?”

“It’s simple in the end,” Dori interjected. “They swear fealty, or they leave—because Harry’s right. We owe a traitor nothing.”

Thorin focused on Harry. “You’re a king in your own right. We’ve not discussed it because it clearly makes you uncomfortable.”

Harry’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head even as Hermione nodded. “No, I’m not. My mother brought a legacy back to the magical people of Britain, but they…betrayed her in the most base way and allowed her to be murdered by a dark wizard. I’ll never forgive them for it. I was in a position to inherit the legacy of the last magical king of the country where I was born, but I knew the moment I was told that I’d never accept it.

“Fortunately, I had a distant relation who claimed the legacy in my stead as regent. He loves his country, he respects the legacy of our people, and he has a vision for their future. I loathe seventy-five percent of the magical people I met, and I saw nothing changing that any time soon. If he serves faithfully, then his son will be allowed to claim the legacy in full and be the king they need.”

“Ragnok didn’t seem to be thrilled with your decision,” Thorin pointed out.

“No, not at all. He saw great potential in having me rule magical Britain because he knew I have no tolerance for the bigotry his kind has dealt with for hundreds of generations. The difference between Dumbledore and Ragnok, who both had their reasons to support my claim of regency, is that Ragnok ultimately accepted the decision was mine, not his.

“Dumbledore, given an opportunity, would’ve forced the position on me in the hopes that he would be able to manipulate me into doing his bidding. Though he failed to realize that if I’d claimed the crown, my first order of business would’ve been to try and convict him of treason. He’d have had a real hard time getting his agenda accomplished from a hole in the ground.”

He finished his first cheeseburger and was promptly presented with another. Hermione had silently plowed through a plate of potatoes and two burgers while he’d been talking.

“I don’t even know where she’s putting it,” Kíli exclaimed.

That earned him an obscene hand gesture from Hermione, which thankfully only the two of them understood, though from the laughter it earned her, the dwarrow had a pretty good idea of what it probably meant.

* * * *

They moved into the mountain with little fanfare save for the part where they had to coax the ponies back into the tent. The animals weren’t all that interested in being stabled again after so long in the large corral with fresh grass. Though winter was settling in, grazing would be largely curtailed. Hermione had used a harvesting spell to make several bales of hay for each pony that would feed them until Harry could make a few trips to trade for goods.

Harry had secured Smaug’s remains in a stasis in a large room just down from the treasury. Then he’d focused on shifting the wardstone for the mountain down into a small room under the throne that would be easy to guard and defend in the future. He’d laid heavy intent charms throughout the wards so that no enemy of the Line of Durin could enter the mountain proper. Though creating a pocket for diplomatic visitors that would accommodate a variety of motivations near the front of the mountain kingdom had been a bit involved. Eventually, he’d just copied what he remembered from the Horde’s wards regarding public areas of their banks to create meeting rooms and temporary sleeping quarters for any future guests.

All of that accomplished, he’d tapped into the large ley line under the mountain to create the destination gateway. The temporary connection in the Blue Mountains would be powered by Erebor since he already knew that the magic in the Blue Mountains was slowly dying, most especially in the halls where Thorin’s people had been allowed to settle by the other clans. It was no wonder, really, that the mountain was barely producing enough for them to live on.

Right now, the dwarrow were arguing over who would be going with him to the Blue Mountains to activate the other end of the gateway. He allowed the vehement discussion because, in the end, he knew there was only one choice, and he was waiting for that choice to make itself known.

“Enough!” Bilbo pointed a spoon at Glóin, who’d stood and drawn his axe. “This entire argument is ridiculous. The only one of you who can convince everyone to step through a magical gateway is Thorin. One or more of you might be able to coax a few people through, but not everyone.”

Glóin frowned but his axe away with a huff. “Right.” He focused on Thorin, who was still reading. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“I wasn’t participating in that ridiculous discussion,” Thorin said dryly. “It should be obvious that the task would fall to me, though I’m not thrilled to leave the mountain having just recovered her. While most would certainly believe you if you told them that you’ve used a magical device to travel back from Erebor and that we’ve killed the dragon, it’s going to take an immense leap of faith to get a single dwarrow to step through that gateway. They’ve followed me through much worse, with very little to show for it in the end.

“In the end, it comes down to Dís.” He laughed when they all groaned. “And not a single one of you could convince her to step through a magical portal. She probably won’t even believe me, but she’ll do it as she’d never question my judgment in public.” He turned to Harry. “But before we undertake that trip—we must deal with the curse.”

“If it were me, I’d have brought the curse to the mountain contained in an object,” Hermione said as she stopped going over Harry’s plans for the ritual circle.

“Agreed, the curse is complicated and would have taken weeks to entrench in the mountain and in the line of Durin. He would’ve wanted to plant it and walk away, which means he brought it wholesale into the mountain. I’d have made it very sturdy. Something hidden?”

“Or something so profoundly attractive that once found, no one would willingly part with it,” Hermione said, and Harry took a deep breath.

He turned to Oakenshield, who had paled. “Tell me about the Arkenstone.”

Thorin cleared his throat. “My grandfather, Thror, found it deep in the mountain. He declared it the Heart of the Mountain and a divine symbol of his right to rule. He shaped it himself and allowed no one to touch it during the entire process. In fact, it is said that no one was allowed to gaze upon the stone until it was polished for presentation. He presented it to the court and mounted it on his throne.” He paused and frowned. “My father often told the story as one might speak of a myth, though his account never varied in any single way.”

“Like he’d been taught to say it,” Balin agreed. “As if it were something he were required to…ah.”

“Not a single detail different between the first telling and the hundredth,” Dwalin agreed. “Our father never mentioned the stone at all unless he was directly asked about it, and he would only say it was the heart of the mountain.”

“Saruman might have magically influenced Thror to the point that he repeated the story so often to his own son that the details became concrete,” Hermione surmised. “A modified form of brainwashing which would’ve been highly effective when combined with the curse itself. It’s probably been spelled to be attractive to anyone who sees it. If it were me, I’d make it appear priceless to ensure that my targets never want to part with it,” Hermione said.

“We had to drag my grandfather out of this mountain the day that Smaug came because he went back for the Arkenstone,” Thorin said shortly. “If we have to destroy it, many of the other dwarf clans will consider it a sign that I should not be allowed to rule.”

“We might be able to cleanse it,” Harry said. “If we can’t—we can certainly make a replica of it that would pass anyone’s inspection. Well, anyone but Saruman himself. Though he’d have to make it all the way into the mountain to see it, and we’ll work to make sure he’s not allowed within a hundred miles of this mountain as long as he decides to linger here on Arda.” He paused. “Or until I kill him.”

“There is no or,” Hermione said tartly. “That dark git isn’t going to sit in his tower and plot against you the rest of our lives, Harry. If we wanted to endure that kind of bullshite, we could’ve stayed on Earth and just hobbitnapped your ada from the Shire.”

Harry grinned at her.

“Stop smiling at me, it makes me stupid,” she said crossly and went back to reading the ritual plan with a blush. “Go summon that stupid stone and see if it’s cursed.”

“As my lady wishes,” Harry said dryly and stood. “Come along, then, let’s go hunt for a cursed rock.”

“Not all of us,” Dori suggested. “Just those of us far enough removed from the line of Durin not to be impacted directly by the curse.”

Harry could tell that Thorin wanted to argue, but the king finally nodded.

“It’s for the best.”

“Also, if we’re forced to destroy it—you’ll be able to say honestly that you had nothing to do with the destruction of the Heart of the Mountain,” Ori said quietly. “I think that’s an important distinction.”

* * * *

“Well, it’s pretty,” Harry said as they all stared at the Arkenstone hovering in the air in front of him. He’d encased it in magic as soon as it had obeyed the summoning spell, so he wouldn’t have to touch it.

“Very,” Nori said. “I can see why any dwarrow who saw it would want to have it. Even without the curse, it’s probably the most beguiling gemstone I’ve ever seen.”

“It has the colors of an opal and the structure of a gem,” Bifur said. “How could Thror have thought for a moment that it was a natural stone?”

“The magic of the curse made him, I’m sure,” Harry said. “Does anyone feel unduly impacted by its presence?”

“I don’t,” Nori said. “And I’m easily the most inclined to steal amongst us. It’s pretty, but it’s not tempting due to how impossible it would be to sell.”

Harry laughed. “Right.”

“Is it cursed?” Ori asked.

“Without the curse, this would just be a fat piece of diamond,” Harry admitted. “All of that color you see is the curse. It’s profoundly powerful—more powerful than Saruman could’ve mustered in a single event. He must have spent decades building this.”

“So, he’s been corrupt for far longer than you ever thought,” Bombur said. “Well, if you end the curse, then it will just be a fat diamond? No one is going to believe it is the Arkenstone after that.”

“I can’t clean this. It’ll have to be destroyed. We’re going to have to recreate it.” Harry looked around the treasury. “We need a diamond of some size or several that we can combine. See how many loose stones you can find. We’ll try to match the weight and size first, then the color.”

“Do we tell anyone it’s not the real Arkenstone?” Ori asked curiously.

Harry hesitated. He didn’t want to lie to Oakenshield as he figured it might damage his relationship with the dwarf, and it was obvious his ada was emotionally invested. It was an annoying situation because he figured his father wasn’t far from picking out a place to dig a blasted cradle, and Harry wasn’t all that sure he wanted siblings, which made him feel like an arsehole.

“Keeping it a secret from the other dwarf lords is necessary,” Dori said finally. “In fact, it might lead to war if they discover that the Arkenstone has been destroyed. Their lines have sworn their loyalty on it.”

Harry exhaled in frustration. “Fantastic. Okay, let’s duplicate it first.”

An hour later, they’d uncovered a chest of uncut diamonds and found one far larger than the Arkenstone. Bofur proved to be the most skilled at shaping gemstones, so he directed Harry in cutting the diamond. Ori made detailed drawings of the original Arkenstone, and they used those to shape every single inch of the surface. Infusing it with color was easier as Harry simply duplicated the pattern of the curse with a ball of unfocused magic and pushed it into the diamond. The finished product, which took seven hours to create, was just as stunning and enthralling as the original.

They left the treasury in favor of the large community hall they were clearing out to house all those immigrating to the mountain in the short term. Harry put the cursed stone on the floor, cast a large shield around himself, and aimed his staff at it. It shattered under the strongest blasting curse he had in his repertoire. He cleansed all the residue of the curse away, vanished the diamond dust, and took a deep breath.

“Good job, lad,” Dori said. “Some would certainly disagree, but you’ve just saved the line of Durin from themselves. That curse would’ve seen to the end of them, I’m sure.”

“Agreed,” Bombur said. “We’ll tell the others, but make a pact not to share this with anyone. Can you make it magical? That way we can’t even reveal it under…less than sober circumstances?”

Harry laughed. “I can, yes, but it would be best if Hermione were to seal it since you’d all be protecting the secret of my actions. She’s very good at that sort of thing.”

* * * *

Thorin flinched just a little when Hadrian carefully put the Arkenstone down in front of him. He picked it up because he trusted Bilbo’s son wouldn’t have brought it to him if it were genuinely cursed. He’d held it just once—the day he was officially announced to be the crown prince and Thrain’s successor. That had been just three months before Smaug came.

“It’s not cursed then?” Dwalin asked with a frown.

“The original Arkenstone was nothing more than a large diamond used to anchor a very powerful curse,” Harry said. “We found an uncut diamond of a similar size. I used magic to make a replica of the stone, then destroyed the cursed one.”

“This is the replica?” Thorin asked in confusion. “Are you certain you didn’t destroy the wrong one?”

“I’m very sure,” Harry said. “Bombur has suggested we make a magical pact between us to never reveal that it’s a replica. With the right wording, it would prevent one of us from inadvertently revealing the truth. Dori believes that it could lead to war if the other dwarf lords learned it was destroyed.”

“He’s not wrong,” Balin said. “But I can’t believe…your craft work is stunning, Hadrian. I’m amazed you don’t have a mastery in any sort of jewel craft.”

“Bofur directed my magic throughout the whole process,” Harry said. “Without his guidance, I’d have probably gone through several stones before I got it right. He kept me from shattering it multiple times.” He turned to Hermione. “We’ll need you to seal the pact since it will hide my actions.”

She stood and drew her copper stave. Several of the dwarrow gaped at her. “What?”

“Where did you get that?” Fíli asked in shock. “It’s….”

“A fire stave,” Hermione explained. “I’m an elemental magus—which is why transfiguration comes naturally to me. I can control the elements—water, Earth, wind, and fire but I am at my most powerful with fire. High Priestess Lenore, my mentor, fired this in her personal forge the day she declared my mastery in transfiguration complete. I used it when we were in the treasury fighting the dragon.”

“Honestly, lass, you looked like just a big ball of magic to us until you fainted,” Thorin admitted roughly. “I was worried that your magic might have broken free from your body. It was like being in the same room with the sun.”

“Agreed,” Bilbo said. “It was difficult to see. I had to get as far from you as I could just to fire my crossbow.”

Hermione blushed. “Sometimes when I’m really focused, my magical aura glows like that. Sorry.”

Kíli laughed. “Well, it worked out regardless.”

She smiled and held out her stave in both hands, displaying the copper stave and the rubies that had been entwined with the metal. “A stave isn’t much different from a staff. Sometimes we need a robust magical focus to perform high magical arts. This allows me to expand my magic for various tasks without overtaxing myself. Neither one of us could have held Smaug down using just wands.”

“No, we’d have all been dragon food,” Harry said by way of agreement. “Let’s agree on the wording of the pact and get that settled before dinner. Tomorrow, the king and I will be ready to travel to the Blue Mountains.”

Return to the Series Page