The Gateway

Reading Time: 52 Minutes

Title: The Gateway
Series: Small Magic
Series Order: 5
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 had an undignified end, Grammarly Beta
Word Count: 13,020
Author’s Note: I’m incredibly jaded. I have no respect for canon, timelines, or even LOTR geography. Don’t get twisted.
Summary: Thorin and Harry go to the Blue Mountains to start the migration of the Longbeards to Erebor.

* * * *

“It’ll be fine,” Bilbo said.

Thorin looked up from his pile of belongings. The baroness had confiscated most of their clothes for the weekly cleaning, and his had been returned first because of the impending trip. “I’m not worried.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “You’ve folded all of your clothes four times.”

Thorin laughed and sat back on the bed they’d been sharing for several weeks. “There was a time when it would’ve taken me hours to fold all of my clothes…though I certainly wouldn’t have been asked to undertake such a task. It’s just another way that Smaug destroyed us. There were many in the mountain who didn’t have the skills to mine or work in the human villages. There were hundreds of jobs in the mountain that didn’t translate into a living outside of it.”

“Domestic work.”

“Yes, and we couldn’t risk our people in such situations, though honestly, there weren’t many humans who could’ve hired a staff to take care of their home. The public kitchens were open at all hours and always had a full staff. Miners worked in three shifts, and many craftsmen shared forges, so they worked in shifts.” Thorin paused when Bilbo nodded. “I don’t have enough people left to operate a mountain the size of Erebor, much less defend her.”

“You will with Ragnok’s people.”

“Yes,” Thorin agreed and took a deep breath. “I worry about the blending of the two groups into a strong clan. I trust your son, Bilbo, don’t doubt that, but all I really have is his word that I can have faith and trust in Ragnok.”

Bilbo nodded. “I trust that Harry wouldn’t bring a threat to your door on purpose. I also know that he would use his magic to defend you if Ragnok’s people prove to be untrustworthy. I think, though, that the fact you’re giving them a home in a world they don’t have to hide from anyone in a moment when they’re on the brink of destruction will work in your favor now and in the future. Harry blames himself for their predicament.”

“I know.” Thorin focused on his clothes. The trip to Erebor had been easy compared to what he’d expected, so nothing was in disrepair. Of course, everything had been a bit worn the first time he’d surrendered everything to cleaning, and it had come back to him looking new.

He was fond of the basilisk trousers, so he put those aside to wear and chose his best tunic. “I feel like I’m in a dream.” He flushed and glanced briefly at his lover, who didn’t look surprised at all.

“Did I ever tell you about the first time Harry got hurt?” Bilbo asked.

“No, I don’t think so. Was it a severe injury?”

“No, but he preferred to run instead of walking whenever it was possible. He fell and skinned both of his knees terribly on the road in front of Bag End. It was the first time he called me Ada—though he was screaming it. By the time I got him, half of my neighbors had come running as well. He kept begging me to fix it. Of course, I couldn’t fix it the way his mother had, but he didn’t understand. We did our best to calm him down and treat the wounds. I was really upset, of course, being a new parent.

“Later, he told me he was sorry. He was barely two years old, and he was apologizing to me for upsetting me.” Bilbo sighed. “He’s such a blessing, you know. I’ll never get the chance to meet his parents, but I feel like he’s a perfect combination of the two of them. Brave, strong, and with an amazing ability to sacrifice everything for the good of others.”

Thorin saw that. “His losses are immense, but he has you, and Fíli was right. You are an amazing father, Bilbo Baggins.”

Bilbo blushed. “Shut up.” He huffed when Thorin laughed.

He tucked the Arkenstone into his pouch. The pact that had settled over the company made it difficult to even acknowledge mentally that it was a replica. It was a good indication that speaking of it would be impossible just as he’d been promised. “I should bathe and redo my braids.”

“Did you find the beads you were looking for?”

Thorin nodded. “They were still in the box on the table in my rooms. The box fell apart as soon as I opened it, but the beads were fine. Cleaning the mountain will be the work of months, even with magic.”

* * * *

Harry dropped down into Hermione’s library and wandered through the stacks until he found her sitting at a table with books spread out around her. He watched for a moment, charmed by her intensity. It was heartening that she’d relaxed so much that she didn’t notice him immediately. The war had made her hypervigilant. He wondered if she was still having nightmares. They hadn’t discussed it, and he’d tried pretty hard not to intrude on what little privacy she had.

Finally, he walked to the table and sat down in front of her. “Find something interesting?”

“Perhaps, I realized, when I was monitoring the shelving charm that I’d managed, in my genuinely insane shopping trip, to create the largest magical library to exist.” She paused. “At least in materials written by humans. Lenore mentioned that they were also creating a knowledge archive to bring with them. Plus, I’m looking forward to cleaning up Erebor’s library.”

“Ori mentioned that it was dusty but mostly undamaged,” Harry said.

“Yes, there’s…charm work in there,” Hermione said and closed the book in front of her. “Mostly rune-based, but absolutely fascinating. I’m going to dig in and figure out who messed with their magic, Harry. Saruman the White might have more to pay for than the curse.”

“Certainly,” Harry said. “I’m pretty sure he’s already aiding Sauron, and if that’s true, then he’s literally trying to drag a monster back into the living.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve made the portkey.”

“Did you want me to go with you?”

“No, well.” He paused. “Yes, actually, but that’s not a good use of your time. I’m trying hard not to be unreasonable, and also I want you here to make sure no one does anything genuinely crazy while I’m gone.”

She laughed. “It’ll be fine. No one can get within a kilometer of this tent right now without our permission. You’ve got stupidly strict wards up right now.”

“Yeah, well, my ada is in this tent,” Harry muttered. “Also, is this dimensional space within a dimensional space a good idea?”

“Not if either had been created by wizards,” Hermione said wryly. “I bought both from the bank. Dverger dimensional spaces are very robust, which is why I also use their spellcraft for nearly all of my dimensional work and why I pursued a mastery with Lenore. I wanted a genuine foundation of spell craft.”

“I don’t think I ever really had goals for my magical life after I…met my fate,” Harry admitted, and she frowned at him. “I just wanted to come home and wallow in the comfort of the Shire.” He paused. “And ignore my cousin Lobelia’s judgment.”

Hermione huffed. “There’s always one. I had a cousin who practically gloried in trying to ruin my day every chance she got. Part of me wishes that I’d cursed her before I left.”

“Is that not a waste of magic?”

“I think you underestimate the value of spite,” Hermione said, and propped her chin on her hand, then stared at him. “But maybe that’s okay. You have enough going on without taking on spite as a hobby.”

“Probably,” Harry agreed and took a deep breath. “I think…. Did I ever talk to you about how Hobbits reproduce?”

“Heartseeds,” Hermione said. “That they plant in the ground. I’m not gonna lie, I thought for weeks that you were messing with me.”

Harry laughed. “I don’t doubt it. The thing is that I think Ada has one.”

“Oh.” Her eyes went wide. “He’s not said.”

“No, it’s a private matter, especially if he doesn’t intend to plant a nursery,” Harry said quietly. “And I’m wondering if I’m part of the reason that he’s hesitating.”

“I think…he’s probably going through a whole process,” Hermione said. “He’s passed the age when most would plant, right?”

“Right.”

She nodded. “And the circumstances aren’t ideal as well. When is the planting season?”

“He’d plant in the summer, and the emergence would come the following spring. Though it might have be longer since the child would be half dwarf.” He took a deep breath. “I should let it alone, right?”

“For now,” she agreed. “He’s entitled to privacy certainly, and you only know because of your own magic.” Hermione raised an eyebrow. “You’ve told me this because you want me to keep an eye on him.”

“Yes, of course,” Harry said and slouched down in the chair when she sighed. “He taught me to worry, you know.”

“I suppose there are worse things,” she said and shifted her books around before picking another title. “Are you worried about traveling with Thorin alone?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” she asked and raised an eyebrow.

“Well.” He shrugged. “I’m kind of stuck with him, right?”

She laughed, and Harry groaned. “Would you have any sort of problem with him at all if he weren’t sleeping with your father?”

“Probably not,” Harry muttered. “I’m gonna curse that dwarf bald if he hurts my ada’s feelings.”

“Probably should keep that threat to yourself,” Hermione said with a grin, and Harry groaned in the most exaggerated fashion he could muster.

* * * *

The portkey deposited them in an isolated spot of forest roughly a hundred feet from the well-traveled road that would lead them into the settlement. Hadrian said nothing as he stored the portkey in his bracelet. Thorin found himself at a loss for words—the trip hadn’t been, in his mind, much longer than the first one they’d taken using the magical device.

“I’d never want you to think for a moment that I take your abilities for granted,” Thorin said roughly. “Your father told us, early on, that many hobbits treat you like a source of entertainment.”

“It’s the least offensive thing they do,” Harry admitted. “And neither of us feels as if you’ve misused us. It’s honestly refreshing to be around people who don’t expect everything from me. The people from my original world were selfish and destructive. They saw me as a means to an end, and most of them didn’t even bother to pretend otherwise. I couldn’t trust most of them with my back, and that was never going to change. Hermione and…another witch I knew quite well were probably the only ones who ever bothered to learn anything real about me.”

“The other witch was special to you?”

Harry took a deep breath. “We were lovers if that’s what you’re asking, but she disappeared six months before the war ended. I found out that her father forced her to leave Britain for her own protection. I wasn’t…well. I could’ve loved her certainly, but she never really gave me a chance to. She told me once that she wouldn’t compete with what I felt for Hermione.” Harry cleared his throat. “Her name was Luna—she was sweet and prone to flights of whimsy that left me breathless. I sent her a letter a week or so after the war, but she never responded, so I don’t know if she’s okay or not. I asked Ragnok to check on her before he comes. I don’t know if he’ll have a chance to.”

“Perhaps a clean break was better for her,” Thorin said.

Harry hummed under his breath. “Why are we standing in the woods discussing my love life?”

Thorin laughed. “I suppose I’m stalling. None of this feels real to me, you know. I fear I’m going to wake up sleeping against a tree halfway between here and Erebor.”

“You have better dreams than I do, then.”

“War damages you,” Thorin acknowledged. “Even a battle where you are nothing but righteous can weigh on your mind for the rest of your life. I dreamt about Khazad-dûm for a decade.” He straightened his coat. “Let’s go then.” He turned to Harry. “You’re wearing all of your armor, correct?”

“Yes. Do you expect a fight?”

“No, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. I’ve not had a letter from my sister since we passed Bree, and none of the ravens I sent her were returned.”

Harry considered that and drew his staff. The emerald atop the magical focus glinted in the light falling through the trees from the morning sun. “After you.”

Thorin inclined his head and led the way. Halfway to the front gates, he wondered if he should’ve brought one of his nephews to placate his sister. She’d be much easier to deal with if she had proof that both of her sons were well. The moment the guards on the gates saw him, they started scrambling to open them for him. There were shouts from inside, and he figured that his sister would learn of his arrival far before he reached the main hall.

As it turned out, he’d no more than crossed the courtyard before his sister barreled out of the mountain proper in his direction. He caught her in a fierce hold. “Dís.”

“Thorin.” Her hands fisted in his hair, and she held on as she knocked her head against his. “Where are my boys? I’ll kill you if they’ve been hurt.”

“I swear they’re uninjured and currently in Erebor rebuilding the front gates to secure the mountain.” He put her down on the ground and tucked a thick braid behind her ear so he could see her face in full. “Smaug is dead.”

She gaped at him. “Thorin…how…what…you’ve not had enough time to get there and back, much less…what?”

“I had a little magical help,” Thorin said. “Sister, meet Hadrian Potter—he’s a magus and the son of the hobbit burglar we hired for the quest.”

Dís squinted at Thorin before she focused on Harry. “You’re…not a hobbit.”

“No, Your Highness, I’m not. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Harry offered her a short bow, and she flushed with a pleased smile.

“He’s thirty-two,” Thorin said under his breath.

She huffed and hip checked him. “I wasn’t….”

Thorin laughed. “You’ll get used to him. We have a lot to talk about, and I have announcements for the clan. We need a full assembly in the hall.”

* * * *

“You expect us to believe this nonsense?” Thuol demanded.

Thorin raised an eyebrow at the old dwarf. He was one of two members of his father’s old council who tried to throw his weight around the mountain as if he had power.

“Are you calling my brother a liar?” Dís questioned, a knife glinted in her hand, and she carefully cleaned one of her nails. “Why would he bother with such a thing?”

“To cover up yet another failure by the line of Durin to lead to his clan,” Thuol said evenly.

Dís laughed. “To what end? If he’s lied about anything he’s said, then it will be obvious in a matter of days when the wizard fails to produce the magic they’ve both said they can accomplish.”

Thuol glared at her. “I’m certainly not going to walk through some magical door. This whole conversation is ridiculous.”

Harry, who was lounging next to Thorin at the large table, flicked a box out of his bracelet. It expanded to full size as soon as he put it on the table, and he opened the box as the rest of the occupants of the hall stared in shock. Thorin barely refrained from grinning when the wizard proceeded to eat a sandwich. He passed one Thorin’s way and offered Dís one.

He watched his sister unwrap the food carefully and take a hesitant bite. She made a soft sound of surprise and took a healthy bite.

“What is this?”

“Chicken salad,” Harry said. He pulled out a teapot, filled it with water from his wand, and heated it with a spell. “Tea?” Dís nodded, so the wizard removed three cups from the box and set up tea for all three of them.

He pulled out another box. “The king told me that food would be filling but not particularly good for the time of the year due to slow trade, so I brought you all some supplies to last you while we handle the migration.” Two more boxes appeared. “Fresh meat, vegetables, flour, cornmeal, and my favorite oat for porridge. There is enough here to feed everyone in the mountain very well for a month, though I expect we’ll be ready to activate the gateway within two days.” He turned to Thuol. “And you can stay here for all that I care.”

Thorin looked around the hall. “Hoten—if you’d retrieve the food we’ve brought?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” the dwarf in question said immediately. “How do I….”

“The boxes will stay that size until you’re ready to open them. Just put it on the floor and step back. It’ll resize to a large crate, which you can open as you’d open any other. Each crate has been spelled to store five times more than normal, and all the food will stay fresh as long as the lid is closed,” Harry explained.

Hoten nodded. “Interesting rune work, Master Wizard. I’d like to hear more about it later, if I could.” He retrieved all three crates. “I’ll have the afternoon meal ready within the hour for the community hall.”

“You’re just going to trust….” Thuol trailed off as Hoten turned to glare at him.

“I trust the king, and if you don’t, then you should certainly stay here.”

“He’s not the king,” Thuol exclaimed hotly. “Thráin is king!”

“My father has been missing for decades,” Thorin said evenly. “If you’d rather follow him than me, then I welcome you to take your leave of this mountain and never bring yourself near Erebor because on Durin’s Day I will be crowned King Under the Mountain, whether you like it or not.”

Thuol drew his sword. Before Thorin could stand, Harry apparated out of his seat and appeared in front of the dwarf—sword drawn. He tucked the tip of the long elven sword under the Thuol’s chin in the silence that followed his magical movement across the room.

“You draw your weapon when you mean harm,” Hadrian said evenly. “Tell me, do you mean someone in this room harm?”

Thuol stumbled back, and his sword fell from his hand. “How did you do that?”

“I’m really fucking magical,” Harry said evenly.

Dís snorted and picked up her tea. “I can see why you decided to keep him, brother.”

Thorin sighed. “Dís.”

Harry hooked the toe of his boot under Thuol’s sword, flipped it upward, and caught it. “You can pick this up from the guards after you’ve calmed down.” He tossed it toward one of the guards, and the dwarf caught it easily with a nod. He apparated back to his seat and picked up another sandwich. “As for me, Princess, your brother is shagging my Ada. It’s one of the more emotionally wounding circumstances of my life. You should see them—they’re like tweens with a first crush.”

Dís burst out laughing.

“This is ridiculous!” Thuol shouted. “He’s not offered a bit of proof that he’s even been to Erebor.”

Thorin glanced briefly at Hadrian, who’d gone back to eating. He reached into his mokeskin pouch and pulled out the Arkenstone. It was galling that it was required, but he knew that Thuol was voicing concerns most feared to speak. He put the stone down on the table in front of him, and every single dwarf in the room stopped moving. Dís took a ragged breath from her place beside him.

“Your proof,” Thorin said evenly. “Questions?”

Thuol’s eyes were wide as he stared at the stone. “How did you…how could you…the maia can’t do the kind of magic you’ve spoken of! Who is this demon?”

“That is a terrible thing to say about someone who could grind your body down to dust with a single spell,” Thorin responded. “My company was introduced to Hadrian by Tharkûn before we reached Mirkwood. Hadrian helped us reach Erebor using magic, and he helped us infiltrate the mountain to kill the dragon. In fact, he and his future wife used their combined magic to hold Smaug down so we could kill him. We didn’t suffer a single loss of life in that skirmish thanks to the sacrifices they both made to see it accomplished. I’ve already told you this once, and your lack of gratitude shames us all.”

Thuol’s gaze fell to the Arkenstone. “It’s difficult to believe.”

“You’re welcome to stay here. I’d not force anyone to come with me through the gateway.” Thorin stood and picked up the stone. He dropped into his pouch and turned to Harry, who was glaring at Thuol. “Lad?”

“I’m just trying to figure out which spell I could use to grind him down to dust.”

“Certainly that spell you used to cleave that one-ton slab of granite in half so we could shape the ward stones,” Thorin said and ignored the shocked sounds of the dwarrow around them. “Let’s find a place to set up the portal so you can refine your plan for it. Your father expects the other end to activate in the morning.”

* * * *

“He’s asleep?”

Thorin nodded. “As much as he’ll allow himself. He spent the better part of a year in war and, as a result, sleeps little. He also sleeps light.” He focused on his sister as he sat down in front of the small fireplace in the quarters he’d shared with her and his nephews for over a hundred years. “You’ve done your son no favors, Dís.”

She frowned and averted her gaze. “I suppose you mean Kíli? I couldn’t let him go on such a dangerous quest without knowing the truth. He deserved to know.”

“He deserved to know decades ago,” Thorin said evenly. “You told him on the day he left here—he had not even an hour to speak with his father. I trust Kael so much that I left him in charge of the mountain security in Dwalin’s absence. How could you think that I would have a problem….”

“There’s no body!” Dís shouted and took a deep breath as she glanced toward Fíli’s room, where they’d tucked away the wizard for sleep. “Thorin—Thráin could return. You’re king in spirit. I know why you refused a coronation repeatedly over the years because you hoped to have him returned to us. I hoped that as well, but I also…I came to hate him for not allowing me to have my One. I was a coward for giving in and marrying Víli when I never wanted him. I was relieved by his death and ashamed at the same time, but not so ashamed that I didn’t celebrate my freedom in the arms of the only dwarf I’ve ever loved.”

“I hope Kael knew long before….”

“He held Kíli when he was just days old, and we spoke several times about leaving, but there was nowhere we could go where he would be accepted due to his elf blood. Maybe we could’ve survived in one of the human towns, but Kael said that he preferred to watch you raise Kíli than to see him torn away from his heritage and birthright.”

“When we are settled in Erebor, Kael may claim his son,” Thorin said roughly. “And if you wish it, you can marry. I’ll not let anyone interfere. He is your One, and I hope that when our father met Mahal, he was soundly berated for his folly.”

“Thorin.”

He focused on his sister and found tears streaming down her face. “What?”

“You mean that? Truly?”

“I’d hope you know well enough to know I’d never be so cruel to jest about such a thing,” Thorin said gravely.

She wiped her face and smoothed down her beard with a deep breath. “Tell me about the dwarrow from Hadrian’s world?”

“They still have magic—full magic in some cases. They’ll bring the magical crafts back to our people, Dís. Hadrian believes that Kíli could undertake a mastery in Runic Magic.” He smiled when her eyes went comically wide. “And he promised to find a mentor for him among those immigrating here. They’re a true boon to our clan, and I can only hope that those of us who are left understand that.”

“You’re the king,” Dís said. “You’ve claimed these dwarrow from the other world as Longbeards. Let a single dwarf say otherwise—they’ll meet with my sword.” She paused. “And my dagger.” She frowned. “And whatever else I can pick up before I can get to them.”

Thorin burst out laughing. “I’ve missed you terribly, Sister.”

“I’m glad because I have a confession that will make the situation with Kíli seem very reasonable.” Dís clasped her hands together. “I signed a marriage contract for Fíli.”

Thorin’s mouth dropped open. “You what?” His stomach lurched in horror. “Dís, he has plans to court someone…how could you be so high-handed to take that from him! He deserves love even if he doesn’t have a One!”

She held up both hands in peace. “I had no choice, Thorin. She came to me two months after you left on the quest and swore on her life that she was carrying his child. If he denies her or the child, she’s prepared to take her own life, Thorin. That’s how certain she is.”

“Who is it?”

“Duma, daughter of Luma, of the Iron Hills.”

Thorin slumped in relief. “That little git.” He rubbed his face. “He knows better than to….”

“She didn’t think she could carry at all, Thorin,” Dís said wearily. “She was just…worried that he would go on the quest and die. I don’t know how he feels about her, but she loves him completely and without any kind of condition. She just wanted to have him with her at least once before he went off and got himself killed.”

“Fortunately for everyone involved, he confessed to me in Rivendell that he planned to court Duma upon the completion of the quest,” Thorin said roughly. “She’s six months heavy with child then.”

“Yes, just,” Dís took a deep breath. “She’s staying with a friend tonight, but she’s been living with me since I signed the contract on his behalf. You’ll need to go explain things to him before he sees her, Thorin. He needs to understand the consequences if he, for a moment, questions the parentage of her child. The pregnancy has made her delicate—she was quite ill for weeks early on and could barely leave the bed.”

“Go get her,” Thorin ordered and stood. “She belongs here with us—not sleeping on someone’s sofa like she has no home of her own.” He walked to Fíli’s room and wasn’t all that surprised to find Hadrian sitting on the side of the bed. The door to their chambers shut with a thud, indicating that Dís had done as instructed. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough,” Harry said and took a deep breath. “How do you think he’s going to take this?”

“I don’t know. He spent some of last week looking through the royal jewels to find an appropriate courting gift for his queen. To find out that his mother has circumvented all of that…he’s a romantic lad.”

Harry nodded. “Did you want me to confirm paternity?”

“Can you do that without her knowing?” Thorin asked. “It’s not a matter of trust but one of…I’d just prefer to be able to tell Fíli without a single doubt that she’s carrying his child so he can be fully prepared.”

“Because even if the child isn’t his—she’s his wife,” Harry said and stood. “Your marriage contracts aren’t…there is no divorce among your kind, correct?”

Thorin took a deep breath. “There are very strict circumstances that will allow for a marriage involving no children to be dissolved, but it’s considered quite shameful for both parties to reach that point. I can’t fault Dís for her actions because we could’ve died on the quest.”

“Gandalf fully expected all three of you to fall,” Harry said, and raised an eyebrow when Thorin paled. “It wasn’t what he wanted, but he does have a limited ability to see the consequences of various actions. Reclaiming Erebor is imperative to the security of the east. He’ll be after us to clean out the Grey Mountains next, and that is all to do with whatever he sees coming for Arda.”

The door opened behind Thorin, and Harry inclined his head when the dwarf held up a hand toward him. It wasn’t the kind of conversation they’d want to have in front of a young, pregnant dwarrowdam. Pregnancies among their kind were fraught with enough dangers without increasing her stress.

Thorin turned to face the two dwarrowdams. Duma was pale, and her eyes were wet with tears. “Relax, lass, I promise you that I’m not angry with you.”

Duma’s hands curled over her stomach. “It’s not his fault either—I have—I never expected to carry. My courses have never been timely, and my mother suffered the same way. She was lucky to get pregnant with me, and the healers didn’t expect her to survive to give birth.”

Dís led her to a chair. “Sit. It’ll be fine. If he’s angry with anyone, it’s me. I’m the one who insisted on a contract.”

“You were just ensuring legal issue for the line,” Duma whispered. “I understood.” She touched her marriage braid and the lovely beads there. “I just hope he….”

“He told me during our travels that he wanted to court you, lass,” Thorin said roughly. “In fact, he scoured most of the royal jewels in the treasure looking for a courting gift to start the process. His only worry was that you might have already given him up for dead and accepted a gesture from someone else in the months that he’s been gone.”

“I would never…not even if there was no babe,” she confessed, and her cheeks stained with a blush.

“Hadrian was trained as a healer on his world—he’s so gifted in the healing arts with magic that he earned a Mastery in the field,” Thorin said. “Dís said you’ve been sick. With your permission, he’ll use magic to make sure you and your child are well enough to travel through the gateway.”

“I trust you, Your Majesty,” she whispered and bit down on her lip as Harry picked up a chair near the table and brought it forward so he could sit near her. “Hello.”

“We haven’t met formally,” Harry said. “My name is Hadrian James Potter, but most of my friends call me Harry unless I’m doing something they find vexing or baffling. I was born on a world called Earth, and I’m a variant of human called a magus. The males of our species are called wizards, and the females are called witches. My first mastery is in Defensive Magic, and my second is in Healing Arts.

“I earned my second mastery with distinction, which means, on my world, that four different masters of the discipline declared me superior in that craft. My parents were named James and Lily, but I was adopted at the age of one by a hobbit named Bilbo Baggins. My mother used her magic to send me here to Arda for my own protection. I was raised in the Shire, which isn’t far from here.”

Duma nodded. “I’ve been there a few times as part of the trade caravans. I’ve heard the name Bilbo Baggins. He’s…important in the village of Hobbiton? I was told that he set the prices for trade for all of their food goods the year I was there.”

“His family is wealthy and well-educated. Amongst hobbits, it is the duty of those like my Ada to make sure that no one takes advantage of his people. It was a duty my father did for many years, but since he’s currently in Erebor, that job has passed to another who will be trained by the Dúnedain to handle trade matters.” Harry drew his wand. “This is a wand. It is a magical focus, much like a staff. I have a staff as well, but it’s not ideal for the kind of magic I’m about to do. This wand is made of holly wood, and in the core it has a phoenix feather.”

“What’s a phoenix?” Duma asked curiously.

“An immortal bird from my world.” He swished the wand, and magic formed above it and took shape. A golden bird appeared in the air surrounded by fire. “They’re creatures of pure magic, really—beacons for the light, though like anything else they can be corrupted.” He slashed his wand through the image, and the magic disappeared. “I’m going to perform a spell on you that will tell me your basic health first—then we’ll work through a series of spells to determine the health of your child.”

She bit down on her lip. “Can you use magic to confirm that Fíli is the father?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Is that a concern for you?”

“No, not at all. He’s the only dwarf I’ve ever known.” She blushed and averted her gaze. “But there are those in the clan who question it—never to my face, but things have been said. Not everyone was satisfied with the contract Amad presented to the clan.”

“You should’ve said something,” Dís admonished gently.

Duma grinned. “I think our numbers are quite small already, Amad. You shouldn’t go around killing the ones we have.”

Thorin laughed.

Harry pulled out a familiar red ledger. “This is the book I use to keep track of all of my current patients—which is the company, my witch, and my father.”

“What’s your witch’s name? Is she here, too?” Duma asked and bit down on her lip. “My apologies, I’m curious beyond any measure of it.”

“In that I think you and your husband are very well matched,” Harry admitted and grinned when she laughed. “Her name is Hermione, and she followed me from Earth. She’s currently in Erebor, bossing everyone around in the king’s absence.”

“And she’s magical like you?”

“She’s very magical,” Harry said as he opened the book to a new section. A quill appeared in his hand.

“Did you want me to take notes for you, lad?” Thorin asked. “I’ve watched Hermione do it often enough.”

“Yes, thank you.” He held out both items, and Thorin took them before retreating to the table. “Fill out all the information you have regarding her family line, and the rest can be filled in later.” He waited while Thorin wrote and cast the first spell when he finished.

The diagnostic was familiar enough, though Thorin still didn’t understand any of it. It looked like a jumbled mess of runes to him—familiar but not quite right.

“She’ll need the nutrient potion. We’ll set up a daily dose for her once she’s in Erebor. Vitamin D is very low.” Harry ended the charm and focused entirely on Duma. “Have you been experiencing extreme amounts of fatigue? Is it difficult to get up some mornings?”

“Yes, but I’m pregnant, and that’s normal, right?”

“No, lass, it’s not normal,” Harry said. “It’s a sign that your diet isn’t meeting your physical needs and your baby is leeching whatever nutrients you do take in. Is there any bone or muscle pain?”

“Quite a lot,” Duma admitted. “Is my baby being hurt by this? What do I have to eat?”

“Let’s check on the babe,” Harry said and performed another spell. “Do you desire to know the sex?”

Her mouth dropped open. “You can see that with magic?”

“Yes.”

“Please, I’d really love to know,” she admitted in a rush.

“A boy,” Harry said. “Very healthy—he’s soaking up everything you have in the way of nutrients. We’ll need to supplement you daily since he’s such a greedy little thing.”

Duma smiled. “A boy. I thought so—he’s really active like his father.” She patted her belly. “Can you confirm that now?”

“I’m going to perform a spell that I can do in front of people that will confirm the situation. It’s one I can use to confirm family relations in a very obvious way.” A soft blue light flowed out of his wand and enveloped her stomach. Two beams immediately shot out, one connecting her to Thorin and another to Dís. “The dark green line connected to the king declares that your child is his nephew, or in this case, great-nephew. The pink line connected to Dís proves that your child is her grandson. If Fíli were here, a red line would be touching him, indicating his paternity.” He directed the spell toward Thorin then, and the dwarf just raised an eyebrow at him as beams of light shot out of him in various directions.

“The orange lines are cousins,” Harry said with some amusement. “When the spell is directed at an adult, it is far more expansive in its connections. The gold line between the king and Dís indicates their sibling relationship.”

“And this little purple line touching you?” Thorin questioned as his fingers trailed through the magic that was connected to Hadrian.

“It appears that you’re in love with my Ada,” Harry said bluntly, and Thorin felt his face heat in a blush. “And it is returned to such a degree that your small magic has claimed me as a son. It’s purple because I’m adopted. If I performed this spell on Ada—he’d have a few hundred orange lines and a purple one to me.”

“Is she healthy enough to traverse the gateway?” Thorin questioned roughly in the hope that he could change the topic of conversation.

“It’ll be no different than walking through that doorway over there. It’s a very stable method of transportation from one location to another, but it’s complicated magic that can be difficult to maintain on a long-term basis. More so for the fact that it’s a security risk since the current gateway in Erebor is in the middle courtyard inside the gates of Erebor. I could set a more permanent connection outside of the mountain if you desired.”

“No, this mountain has little to nothing left to offer,” Thorin said roughly. “In another year, I’d have been searching for another abandoned mountain to take over that hadn’t been infiltrated by orcs.” He paused. “But perhaps if we could secret one away near Bree, we could use it for trade?”

“I’ll have a look around to see if I can’t find a location I can secure magically as much as possible,” Harry said. “I can handle long-distance trade until the situation is settled enough that we can focus on rebuilding.”

He performed several more spells, rattled off details that Thorin had expected to receive first, and eventually, the wizard had retrieved the book and made several long notes regarding the pregnancy and future treatments. Then he’d stored the book and focused on Duma.

“We should discuss the birth. Have you been visiting a midwife?”

“Yes, but….” Duma took a deep breath. “I don’t like her. She has a daughter my age that she hoped that Fíli would match with. Gwin isn’t unkind to me to my face, but she’s made several comments when she didn’t know I was around about me trapping the prince into marrying me.” She rolled her eyes. “Like Fíli was some virtuous young dwarf saving himself for marriage.”

Thorin snorted. His oldest nephew was actually quite known for his inability to keep himself to himself.

“We have four months to make the decision, and there are several healers coming from Earth that specialize in childbirth.”

“Would you….” Her hands curled into her dress. “The king trusts you.”

“I would certainly be with you during the birth if that’s what you want, but I hope by the time we reach that point that you’ll trust my judgment regarding a midwife,” Harry said. “I’ve assisted in the births of over a hundred dwarrow children on Earth but never on my own. You’re very stressed and upset.”

“What if Fíli….” She bit down on her lip and shook her head. “I’m just borrowing disappointment.”

“Certainly,” Dís said and patted her shoulder. “Fíli will be thrilled once he calms down. A child is a gift.”

* * * * *

He’d made the gateway large enough to bring a wagon through to facilitate the move. They’d emptied out the training yard to construct it. Harry had placed the intent charms first and watched as a handful of dwarrow were pushed away from the yard. Once those were in place, he felt more comfortable turning his back on the entrance so he could set the gateway. Thorin and Dís were coming and going from the place as they worked with the populace, and in a show of trust, they’d left a single bench in the courtyard, which Duma was sitting on. She had a lapful of baby belly and a knitting project. Dark blue yarn was the main source of material for her project. Durin blue, Harry thought, when he’d seen it.

He fed her every time he ate since he didn’t have the potions needed to treat her, and with her permission, he’d tethered a monitoring charm to her so his magic could monitor her health. Putting the runes down for the gateway was easy enough since he’d done the real work in Erebor. He decided not to use any sort of magic that might be left in the Blue Mountains, which had simplified the process for his current task.

Harry set the final rune and drew his staff to cast the spell. He set the end of his staff on the large granite stone he’d set and pushed with his magic. The gateway sprang up between one stone and another like a magical rainbow.

“For the love of Mahal,” Duma exclaimed, and the two guards that were near the entryway turned to stare at them. “Is that….”

Harry offered her a grin and sent his Patronus through the gateway. Almost instantly, Hermione was stepping through. She had her wand drawn.

“How was the trip?”

“Very smooth,” Hermione reported and stored her wand. He noted that she was wearing her armor and had her sword strapped to her back. “The mountain gave a little shake when the connection was made. I’m not sure if it would’ve been felt in Lake-town or not.”

“The wards on the mountain will keep the humans back regardless,” Harry said and stored his staff just as Thorin entered the courtyard with Dís. “As you can see, Your Majesty, the gateway is stable and ready for travel.” He turned to Dís. “Your Highness, allow me to introduce Hermione Jane Dagworth-Granger, the Baroness of Raven. She’s agreed to marry me, eventually.”

Dís stepped forward, offering both hands. “Well met, Hermione. I’ve been told how you were instrumental in the recovery of Erebor. I’m personally glad that those idiots had a stabilizing female influence on the trip.”

Hermione laughed and accepted Dís’ hands in greeting. “Well met, Your Highness. I’m here to help you all pack.” She turned to Harry. “I’ll need you to harvest some wood to make temporary crates.”

Thorin cleared his throat. “If you’d both stay here with Dís and Duma until I’ve returned with Fíli, I would appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Harry said and motioned Hermione toward the bench where Duma was still sitting. “Allow me to introduce you to Fíli’s wife. He doesn’t know, yet.”

Duma offered a cheerful wave.

Hermione shared a wide-eyed glance with him before marching off to meet Duma. “Oh, you’re really pregnant.” She sat down on the bench. “Harry, have you….”

“Of course.” Harry pulled the book and offered it to her. “I’ve set all the potions I think she’ll need, but she’s not in terrible health for the situation.”

“I just step through?” Thorin questioned, and Harry walked back over to the dwarf king.

“Yes, but try to keep some of them on that side of the gateway for security’s sake,” Harry said, and Thorin nodded.

“Dwalin, Balin, and Dori, Nori, and Ori will stay as they have no immediate family in the settlement,” Thorin said.

Harry watched Thorin step through the gateway, then turned just as a red-headed dwarrowdam entered the courtyard.

“Emali,” Dís said under her breath. “Wife of Glóin.”

“I recognize her from her portrait, actually,” Harry admitted.

“My husband is coming through that?” Emali demanded as soon as she reached him.

“Shortly, I would assume, considering how vehemently he argued that he should come with me instead of the king.”

Emali huffed. “The guards would’ve never let you build such a thing in this mountain without the king’s permission.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at the gateway. She didn’t have to wait long; Glóin trotted through in short order.

Harry laughed and joined Duma on the bench. The dwarrowdam was frowning at an empty potion vial. “What?”

“That tasted terrible,” Duma exclaimed.

“Sorry, but you need it for the baby,” Harry said. “We’ll tailor a potion to your needs specifically, but there is no way around it if you want to stay on your feet for the next four months and deliver a healthy child.”

“Okay.” Duma made another face but handed the vial back to Hermione. “I’m grateful for your help, even if it is disgusting.”

“There are worse potions,” Harry confided. “Just don’t ever break a bone. The potion for fixing that is nothing short of warm goat shite.”

Hermione laughed. “Harry Potter.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he challenged.

“You know I can’t,” Hermione exclaimed in exasperation. “The only thing worse than Skel-Gro is probably polyjuice.”

“I don’t even want to know,” Harry said and would’ve complained some more about Skel-Gro, but Fíli had just stumbled through the gateway, pale as a ghost. “Right, let’s give them some sort of privacy.” He offered Hermione his hand, and she took it with a small smile toward Duma.

He took Hermione across the courtyard to the other side of the gateway to keep an eye on everything and to also keep track of how many of the company were on the Erebor side of the gateway.

Fíli was, when Harry looked that way, on his knees holding both of Duma’s hands speaking in an urgent way that spoke to the only kind of apology a man could make in such circumstances.

“They’re adorable,” Hermione said with a small smile. “I should go back to the tent and start working on her potions. So go get my trees. Try not to get them all from the same place. There’s no need to destroy anything’s habitat.”

“Bossy,” Harry murmured and pressed a quick kiss against her temple.

* * * *

In the end, they made five hundred crates each for the migration that were expanded on the inside to be as large as they needed. Dís was instrumental in distributing the crates after they were made. Hermione had gone back through the gateway with Duma and Fíli after she’d finished the crate project. Harry spent most of his time in the courtyard, monitoring the gateway and ensuring that the magic stayed stable. He was proud of the construction, and his biggest concern eventually came from keeping dwarflings from darting back and forth through the gateways as if it were a game.

The king stayed with him more often than not, taking note of the adults who were dissuaded from going anywhere near the gateway. It didn’t surprise either of them that Thuol could barely enter the courtyard at all. The elderly dwarf was openly hostile regarding the migration and how the rest of the clan had embraced the magical transportation. There were three others—two males and a dwarrowdam who appeared only hostile with Dís rather than Thorin himself.

Thorin called a meeting with Dís and the four people who couldn’t get past the intent charms. Balin had returned from Erebor to witness the meeting as the King’s Advisor—an official position that had left Thuol foaming at the mouth in fury.

They all sat, and Thorin cleared his throat when Thuol started to speak first.

“You’re all here because you won’t be migrating to Erebor with the rest of us,” Thorin said plainly. “All of you have been refused entry by the magic of the gateway. It’s been spelled specifically to prevent those who are not loyal to the royal family from entering. You should know that this same magic is also on the mountain itself.”

“What bloody right do you have to do such a thing?” Thuol demanded, but he was glaring pointedly at Harry.

“I did as the king instructed,” Harry said mildly. “I’ve secured the gateway, and I’ve secured the mountain to protect the clan and the ruling family from sedition. If you can’t be loyal to Thorin Oakenshield, then you have no business trying to live in his mountain.” He tapped an herbal out of his case, and the cigarette lit in his hand with a flash of fire.

“I know exactly why Thuol is unprepared to follow me,” Thorin said, and he focused on the dwarrowdam. “Why is the gateway turning you away?”

The female averted her gaze, but not before she glared pointedly at Dís. Harry noted with some amusement that the princess didn’t seem to give a fuck. She was relaxed back in her chair with a cup of tea.

“Yaf,” Thorin said sharply, and the dwarrowdam focused on him. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

Yaf’s nostrils flared with fury, and her lips whitened under pressure before she leaned forward slightly. “Your sister has interfered four times with my daughter’s attempts to court Prince Kíli. She insults me and my line with her unseemly behavior. She uses her social station to mistreat any single female who goes near her youngest son.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow. “My nephew, Kíli, prefers males exclusively. This has been announced, Yaf. He has no interest in a dwarrowdam for any single reason whatsoever. I made it clear to him when he was just fifty that I would not expect him to seek out a female for marriage. As it stands, his brother has already provided an heir for the line of Durin. If Dís has interfered, it was merely to save her son from an awkward and embarrassing situation where he would be forced to reject your daughter or any other that might come along who has no respect for his preference.”

“He should be made to do his duty to the line!” Yaf snapped.

“I thought rape was a crime on par with murder amongst the dwarrow,” Harry said idly as he smoked.

Yaf jerked back as if he’d slapped her. “What are you saying?”

“What is a forced marriage but rape sanctioned by both family and society?” Harry asked. “Your daughter’s wants appear to be so important to you that you’re willing to subjugate another in a marriage he has no desire for. What other decisions would you like to make on behalf of a Prince of Erebor?”

The dwarrowdam paled. “My daughter and I will join the annual trade caravan headed to the Iron Hills. If we leave tomorrow, we’ll meet with them before they leave Harlond.”

Thorin watched her rush from the room before he focused on the two that remained. Rhon and Lhon were brothers. Their father had perished in Erebor the day that Smaug had come to the mountain. They were much older than Thorin, merchants by trade, and prone to drinking. They’d managed to avoid the Battle of Azanulbizar and were considered cowards for it.

“Do you distrust the magic of the gateway, or does your disdain for my grandfather continue to taint your opinions of the line of Durin?” Thorin asked.

“Thror brought that bloody dragon to the mountain with his greed and madness,” Rhon said. “Now you’d have us return to it and watch you fall to the curse of your line. You’re all corrupt, mad, and our clan would be better served in the hands of others. Durin himself is cursed to live over and over again. If you had an ounce of honor in you, you’d step down and take your cursed family away from the rest of us.”

“I was going to suggest that you undertake the trip to Erebor in the hopes that the trip itself would change your opinion,” Thorin said carefully. “But I won’t. Neither of you is welcome in Erebor—not as long as the line of Durin has the throne. You can stay here and rot for all I care.”

“And me?” Thuol demanded.

“You’ll be given enough gold for a pony and supplies,” Thorin said. “You can travel wherever you’d like, but if you come to Erebor, you’ll be turned away by the same magic that is refusing to allow you to migrate with us unless you’re prepared to accept that Thráin is no longer the king. Perhaps you don’t know if you can accept the future direction of the clan. I’m sure you’d be welcomed in the Iron Hills if that is the case.”

* * * *

Harry summoned the carcass of the large boar, wrapped it in a stasis spell, and dropped it into the trunk that was opened on his left. The forest around the Blue Mountains was rich with game, so he’d been hunting every day since their arrival. The guards were currently scouring the mountain to make sure no one had been left behind. In the end, everyone who could enter the gateway had agreed to go, and the rest had departed.

He closed the trunk, shrank it, and picked it up. Harry apparated back to the courtyard and stepped through the gateway. The main hall was bustling with activity, and Hermione was on the opposite side of the arena size room from the gateway. He resized the trunk and placed it in the area Bombur had set up for food preparation. He was offered a few cheerful waves. The staff that Bombur had assembled for feeding everyone was working well and was quite used to Harry arriving with a trunk of some sort of food.

Harry made his way across the central floor area and came to a stop next to Hermione, who was supervising the sewing of canvas tents. She’d produced a pattern in short order, and everyone who could handle a needle had been conscripted into the project. He knew so far she’d managed to produce over a hundred tents. He’d been tasked with adding the enchantment spells to the tents to create temporary households for everyone. Though several large tents had been created already to house those without extended families into a series of nicely equipped barracks. He’d made sure to include full bathing and toilet facilities in each tent to avoid any health issues that could arise with a large group if there are problems with general hygiene.

“Hey.”

Harry glanced around them. “How are things going?”

“Very well,” Hermione said. “Due to the small size and their talent in putting the design together, we’ll be averaging about a hundred tents a day. Of course, my ability to enchant can’t keep pace with their production. Are you finished in the Blue Mountains?”

“Yes, we’re doing a final check, but Balin has taken a head count and is certain everyone, but the four teams of guards we have searching, is accounted for. I’ll go close the gateway shortly, and after lunch, I’ll be able to start enchanting with you. Do I need to redo any of the comfort spells in this room in the meantime?”

“No, everything seems to be working very well. I had to reset the smoke-eating charms early this morning, but that’s not a surprise considering how many fires we have going to keep the room temperature up.” Hermione accepted a stack of tents she was offered by Ori and took them over to her own work table. “Thank you, Ori. Make sure everyone gets a lunch break, please.”

Harry followed and dropped down in the chair beside her. They had to put fortification spells on the tents before they did anything else, so he split the stack with her and did his part until Kíli trotted up the table and told him they were ready for him to close the gateway.

“Did you want me to go with you?” Hermione questioned.

“I’ve already made my portkey to return here. I have to make a quick stop in the Shire to pick up the grain I’ve ordered on behalf of the mountain. Plus, I need to deliver the trade agreement to the Thain.”

“Do you think they’ll try to keep you for long?”

“No, love, he knows I’m very busy helping to prepare the mountain for it to be lived in. Plus, I want to fortify the front gates and do a little recon to make sure no one has noticed our activity.”

Her mouth quirked. “You do realize, of course, that there isn’t a force on this world that could push through your wards, right?”

“I’m not sure of that,” Harry said. “And our wards are designed to….” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what kind of magic remains in orcs. I don’t know the structure of their minds. I can’t be certain that intent charms will keep them back entirely. This magic was designed by humans to work on other humans and, of course, the dverger as well. The orcs are corrupted elves. House elves on Earth might have descended from some form of high elf, though clearly not a version of elves we have here. Remember those lessons?”

“Yes,” Hermione bit down on her lip. “Harry, house elves were able to ignore wards of all sorts like they weren’t even there.”

“Right.”

“Oh, that’s frustrating as fuck,” Hermione said. “Let’s go kill all those things right now. What if they can get through your wards on the Shire?”

“Those wards are designed to hide the Shire from anyone with ill intent. I couldn’t very well hide this mountain. The Shire already had a few natural defenses that I used to settle the ward, and there is fey magic there that I tapped into as well. Though I will be notified if anything manages to find the Shire and push through the protection and I’ll go there and make whatever it is really regret its stupid actions for the very short time I let it live.”

Hermione laughed. “Don’t dally.”

* * * *

Dís and Thorin were near the gateway when he stepped back through to the Blue Mountains. In the week since the migration had started, Dís had traveled to Erebor just once to get Duma settled before she’d come back. She’d supervised the packing and moving of the entire clan without much rest at all. The siblings were seated on the single bench that was still in the small courtyard.

“Is something wrong?”

Thorin shook his head.

“It’s overwhelming,” Dís admitted. “I’ve spent so many years here that it’s difficult to really believe that we can return home.”

The guard team that Dwalin was leading stood just a few feet away from Thorin and Dís. Harry shared a look with him and walked across the courtyard. He stopped at the closed doors of the mountain. There was a large lock clamped on the doors.

“Problem, lad?” Dwalin asked.

“I was going to perform a spell to check to make sure everyone is out,” Harry admitted.

“We’ve sent a raven with the key to Lord Vasig of the Firebeard clan, as they have the nearest settlement in the Blue Mountains to this hall.”

Harry nodded and glanced back into the courtyard. Thorin was tugging his sister through the gateway. He watched them leave and gave Dwalin a nod as he directed the remaining guards through the gateway. Harry waited until the runes deactivated to ensure that the travel was complete, then he drew his staff. He ended the gateway spell and summoned the anchor stones.

He glanced around once more, letting his magic spread out a little, but found nothing out of place. He apparated to be Bag End as was his habit when he entered the Shire. After checking over the smial, he apparated to the Great Smials. Fortunately, from his point of view, the Thain wasn’t at home, so he left the trade offer with his assistant, picked up his grain, and activated the portkey that would take him back to Erebor.

Harry landed in the tent, which was empty, so he took the grain to Bombur. He was given a bowl of stew for his trouble, which he gladly took in trade, before heading off to sit with Hermione, who was back at her work table.

“Did you eat?”

“Two bowls,” Hermione said, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Get everything accomplished?”

“I really hope so. I’m exhausted.”

“Then you should head to bed early,” Hermione said and glanced up from her work. “You don’t look well, at all, actually.”

“The magic in their former halls is dying,” Harry said roughly. “It’s probably been in a death spiral of sorts for several hundred years. It was difficult to sleep there as a result.”

“Ragnok needs you fully rested when you activate the portkey platform,” Hermione said, and sighed when he responded by shoving food into his mouth. “Harry.”

“I’ll sleep, I promise. I’ve just missed you as well. I’m kind of out of the loop on this end of things, so tell me what you’ve been up to while I was west.”

“I added everyone’s family to the company tent, which meant some of us lost individual rooms. Bombur has six kids. Did you know that?”

“I think he mentioned it on the road,” Harry admitted. “Who doubled up?”

“The king and your Ada were first. I was going to make Kíli and Fíli share until Duma’s arrival. Gimli and Kíli are sharing instead. Bombur’s children are in one room, and I activated the barracks spell on the beds in there. They’re thrilled with the bunk beds.” She pursed her lips. “I gave Dís my room, and I moved in with you.”

He raised an eyebrow because they’d yet to share a bed as lovers. The set of her shoulders was tense, so he just nodded and left it at that. The last thing he wanted was to pressure her for intimacy before she was ready, and he hoped that was clear to her. There were too many people around pretending they weren’t listening to have a full discussion.

“The tent originally was designed to sleep twenty.”

“Yeah, with two rooms set up like barracks,” Hermione reminded. “I didn’t want to give up the work room or the dueling room, so there was some rearrangement. I think everything’s settled. The expansion charm is taxed on that tent, so we can’t add any more space to it. I can build another, but I hope we can make do until we can get enough of the rooms clear in the mountain to have proper quarters.”

Harry finished his stew as he considered that. “I’m sure the king has a plan for that.”

“He does, yes, but we suspect we’ll spend upwards of six months in this room in tents because safety has come first, and we don’t know how much damage the dragon did to the structures deep in the mountain. Beyond cleaning, there is repair and inspections. Plus, the arrival of the dverger from Earth will cause a fair bit of adjustment and stress.”

Harry found the whole idea exhausting, but he’d made a commitment to see Ragnok’s people settled on Arda, so he pushed all of that aside. He was tired and still hungry. He glanced toward the kitchen area but judged it too far to walk. He set aside his bowl with a pout and slouched in the chair to watch Hermione work. She was the efficient sort, so she’d set herself up a little routine that he found amusing to watch.

“I’d know that pout at a league.”

Harry turned and found his ada standing beside him. “Hey, how are things going?”

Bilbo offered him a bowl of stew. “Very well, I should think. The guards report there’s been no movement from Mirkwood or Lake-town to indicate that anyone in the region has realized we’re here and the dragon is not. You look hungry.”

“I’m starving,” Harry admitted and took the bowl. “Thanks, Ada.”

Bilbo took the empty bowl and patted his son on the shoulder before sharing a look with Hermione that looked like pure conspiracy to Harry. He waited until his father had meandered back toward the kitchen before focusing on his witch.

“What are you two up to?”

She raised one fine brown eyebrow at him, and Harry tried to frown at her, but it was hard because deep down he was still so amazed that she’d given up her entire world for him. He couldn’t say that others hadn’t sacrificed just as much in the past for him. James and Lily Potter had died so that he could live and be safe. His ada had sacrificed as well—giving up a young, blossoming love in favor of adopting a child that no one in the Shire understood and most feared.

But Hermione had given up her whole world for him and a life on Arda that she really wasn’t prepared for.

“Tomorrow is your day off,” Hermione declared. “We’ve all decided.”

“I have a fuckton of work to do.”

“That’s not a real word,” Hermione said crossly. “Not in any single language you know.” Harry laughed. “And you need the break, both mentally and magically. So, unless something immensely terrible happens, you’re going to sit around and smoke those ghastly herbals of yours.”

“You’re working very hard yourself.”

“Yes, but I’m also getting eight hours of solid, restful sleep, and you haven’t had that since we both passed out from exhaustion after the dragon thing.” She waved a hand. “So, you’re sleeping, eating, smoking, and that’s it, Harry Potter, for the next twenty-four hours at least.”

Harry found the idea kind of amazing, so he just nodded and went back to his stew, which was fantastic. “Is Ada eating well? You’ve kept a watch?”

“Yes, but I didn’t need to. Bombur takes your Ada’s dietary needs very seriously. Honestly, we should probably start lessons on small magic and how to maintain a healthy relationship with your magical core. They all could use it, and it would probably benefit them when it comes to their craft and general emotional welfare.”

She paused and frowned. “One of the stone masons who was working on the front gates came to me yesterday because Bofur noticed he was stumbling around on his feet. He was magically exhausted, Harry. He had no idea, of course, that he was even capable of such a thing since they know nothing about their small magic. I gave him a pepper-up potion and ordered him to rest for no less than a day before resuming work.

“I spoke with Bifur, who is in charge of the project, and outlined what kind of humane schedule he could maintain for his craftsmen to keep their small magic healthy. He immediately put it into practice.”

Harry nodded. “I wonder how many dwarrow over the years have burned their magic out without ever knowing they had it because of the lack of knowledge and the way magic barely moves on this world.”

“There’s honestly no telling,” Hermione murmured and frowned. “So, we have to teach them. Ori is going to start a research project to try to figure out when their knowledge of magic began to disappear.”

“Have you discussed your theory about outside interference?”

“Yes, of course. Ori is a great researcher and, like every dverger I’ve ever met, he works best with as much information as possible.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Dwarrow.”

“It’s a learning curve, right?”

She nodded. “More so for me, I would suppose, but I wouldn’t want to insult anyone. Though I don’t think any would be insulted unduly, as the word dverger actually means dwarf or dwarves.”

“You’ll rest as well,” Harry prodded.

“Yeah,” she said with a quick smile. “Of course.”

He retreated to the tent after watching her for another few minutes and slouched down on the sofa near the fireplace. Emali, Glóin’s wife, appeared in front of him and put her hands on her hips. Harry stared for a moment, oddly intimidated, and that was practically foreign to him.

“Did you eat?”

“Two bowls of stew,” he reported and yawned.

“Glóin explained to me that when you’re tired, you can damage your magic,” she said pointedly.

“It’s possible, but I’m not specifically magically exhausted. The migration magic was static after it was cast.”

“I noticed how it worked,” she said and continued to stare. “But you had to deal with a bit of stress as well, correct? Traveling with the king and keeping us all safe while we traveled through that gateway.”

He started to speak, and she sat right down. Harry realized at that point that he was genuinely cornered. He considered signaling Hermione through her dimensional store. Surely she’d come to rescue him.

“The responsibility for the lives of others should never be…casual,” he finally said. “I mostly worried about the children. They’re little chaotic movements in the magical fabric of this world, and more magical than any of the adults. They’ve not been…worn thin by the circumstances.”

“I see.”

He thought she did, and that was sad. “You were told that I’m a healer.”

“Yes.”

Harry nodded. “Is there anything you’d want to discuss with me in private?”

She stared for a moment and shook her head. “Do you know the others that are coming well?”

“Chieftain Ragnok’s people sheltered me and prepared me for war,” Harry said because he figured there was no need to deflect the topic. Drarrowdams like Emali were key to the clan’s full integration. “They’re honest in their crafts—magic or not. I believe that the Longbeards will find true kinship with them if we are patient and thoughtful with the integration. It won’t be easy, but the rewards are obvious.”

“They’ll outnumber us.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “They’re going to take a knee for Thorin Oakenshield as dverger and rise as Longbeards. That is the nature of magical oaths, and they’ve all agreed to do it.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at him. “Truly.”

“Truly,” he assured. “Ask yourself—what would you do and give freely for freedom for yourself and those that you love, because every single one of them did ask that question. They answered it with agreement to come here.” He waved a hand. “Even with orcs and Sauron potentially looming in the distance.”

She nodded. “Thank you for speaking with me, Master Potter.” She paused and frowned. “Go rest before I tell on you.”

“I’m surrounded by genuinely bossy people,” Harry muttered, but went to his room and slouched down on the bed after he pulled off his boots.

Hermione had tucked a trunk near the back of the room next to his own, and that was the only indication that she’d be sharing the space with him. It felt like trust and a good step in the right direction for their relationship. But also, he figured he had some work to do on that front since they were both just meandering toward the future on a series of assumptions they’d yet to fully discuss.

After a few long moments, he got up to undress and put on some pajamas. Well, he put on the bottoms, crawled under the covers, and went to sleep between one breath and the next.

* * * *

Thorin took a deep breath and put his bag down on the bench at the end of the bed. They’d basically been sharing a room for weeks, so the move that had taken place while he was in the Blue Mountains wasn’t unwelcome. He shed his coat and tucked it away in the closet, as Bilbo always gave him little looks if he left his stuff lying around. He didn’t mind it much, as he knew he should be more careful with such things.

“Took a team effort, but Harry’s down to sleep,” Bilbo said as he pulled the door shut behind him. “Apparently, Emali is intimidating. Something to keep in mind for the future.”

“Good. He looked exhausted,” Thorin murmured. “He doesn’t really know how to stop.”

“No, he’s always been full tilt,” Bilbo said and took a deep breath. “I should’ve asked you about sharing a room.”

“It’s more than fine,” Thorin said and wondered if he should mention the magical connection that Hadrian found with the family spell. Then pushed it aside because he wasn’t even sure what to do with it and didn’t know if he could handle a heavy conversation.

“Something wrong? Did you and Harry get along?”

“He was very supportive,” Thorin said. “Helpful, as always.” He sat down on the bench, took off his boots, and exhaled slowly.

“Is something wrong?” Bilbo questioned as he scooted up onto the bench beside him.

“I’m relieved,” Thorin murmured. “We’re home, but it’s…like a dream.”

“A very good dream,” Bilbo said. “After years of nightmares.”

“There were good times.” He cleared his throat. “But yes, things were hard, and often I was made to make choices that I didn’t want to make. We made sacrifices that felt reasonable at the time but are appalling in retrospect.”

“In the Shire, there was a hard winter,” Bilbo said. “Eventually, it would be called the Fell Winter. Winter came so early that year, and our crops were sparse or outright destroyed. We had food stores, but not enough. Rationing was difficult, and my parents fed me first, then themselves. Sometimes, they went whole days without eating at all. Eventually, orcs and wargs crossed over the frozen rivers. I was just twenty-four, quite young by Hobbit standards.”

“Extremely young by our standards,” Thorin said roughly. “The age of majority for dwarrow is seventy.”

“Thirty-three in the Shire,” Bilbo said. “The Fell Winter killed my parents—even if it took years. It killed many in the Shire slowly and surely for years afterward. I was young but not so young that I don’t have very vivid memories of it.” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t know what to do with myself after they died, one after another, like I didn’t matter…. I mean, I know that’s not what it was. But that’s how I felt at the time.”

“Wounded and alone,” Thorin said quietly and offered Bilbo his hand. “I understand. Grief isn’t rational, and it lingers on you forever. I kept waiting for it to change—the loss of Erebor, my parents, and my brother.”

“And your identity,” Bilbo said, and Thorin took a deep breath. “When do you suppose you stopped seeing yourself as the Crown Prince of Erebor?”

It hurt to think about, but he wanted to be honest with them both about it. “Realistically, Smaug took that from me the very day he invaded Erebor, but I believe the last of that ideology was stripped away from me somewhere between here and the Blue Mountains. We buried so many, left so many here in this mountain to rot where they fell. The bones…gods, the bones.” He shuddered, and Bilbo took a deep breath. “But not enough bones, and I know it. I hate to think about what happened to their bodies.”

“We’ll….” Bilbo exhaled slowly. “I have no idea what to say to that. Harry might be able to use magic to link remains…the bones to family lines. Then we can place them in the memorial cairns deep in the mountain.”

Thorin considered that and nodded slowly. “Is it better to know or not?”

“Better to know,” Bilbo said firmly. “Even if it takes months to sort all of the remains left behind, even if there are only bone fragments left. Everyone who died in this mountain deserves a proper rest.”

“Proper rest,” Thorin said, then pulled Bilbo close. He took a deep breath against the Hobbit’s hair. “You have more heart than anyone I’ve ever known, Bilbo Baggins.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It is the best thing I’ve ever known,” Thorin confessed and closed his eyes as he let the grief his people settle differently on his shoulders. “I thought to die for my people.”

“And now?”

“I will live for them.”

The End