Chapter Text
I face off with the snaky man, my new wand in hand, my friends and enemies around us. I notice his body language. He's about to raise his wand.
With the last horcrux, his snake Nagini, gone he is able to die. And it is what I must do, even if I die trying. Even though the horcrux inside me is gone, I still have the ability to speak with the slithery creatures.
I raise my wand as soon as he does, our spells shouted at the same times. He casts the killing curse whereas I cast Expelliarmus. I didn't know what else to cast, but the spells do something incredible.
They clash. I fight to keep my arm straight and to not break under the pressure but it is tough and expends a lot of power. I let out a yell as I fight for my life against him, i even grip my arm so it stays in place. But Voldemort doesn't seem to have the same problem as me.
I notice the red magic creeping closer to me, so I reposition my legs as best I can and fight back. It reduces and my spell goes further to Voldemort's side, surprising him. In a split second, he looses focus and the spell hits him.
I fall on my bum, exhausted, and watch as he becomes dust and dies. A soundless scream is placed on his lips as the last of him disappears. To where is beyond me, I am just glad he is dead.
I immediately take up fighting the death eaters once they attack. With their lord dead, they are in complete disorder and their tactics are brash and frantic.
The fight lasts for two hours longer with our side being victorious. The last few death eaters flee after realizing their inevitable defeat.
Something about the celebration of victory seems off to me. My chest feels heavy with burden, but I should feel none anymore as the death eaters are defeated and Voldemort gone.
Out of those dead, I find Tonks, Lupin, and Fred are gone with the rest of my friends around them. Tears slip down my cheeks as I stand over the last of my father's friends. Lupin became a father figure to me after Sirius died.
I am caught off guard when I am spun around and slapped across the face by none other than Molly Weasley.
"If you hadn't been twiddling your thumbs they'd still be alive! You don't get to cry when you're the reason they're dead!" She screeches in my face as she pushes me away from the deceased. Nobody stops her, they just stare. George gives me a blank look whereas Hermione, Ginny, and Ron give me looks of disgust.
Snape was right. They are disgusting pieces of shit.
"I'm the reason?! If it wasn't for me, we would all be dead! I killed Voldemort, Molly! Not you, me! I lost people too! Your grief doesn't give you the excuse to throw me away because you think I'm the reason this whole war happened!" I shout back as I step back from Molly, not wanting her to hit me again.
"But you are!" She hisses, her features reminding me of Aunt Petunia on the night that Hagrid arrived on that small island in the middle of the ocean. "You're the reason my son is dead! If you had just died that day all those years ago, this wouldn't have happened!" Did she forget about the horcruxes? The reason that Voldemort was able to come back in his nose-less glory?
"If I died when He attacked me when I was one, there wouldn't be a war because EVERYBODY WOULD BE DEAD! Everybody who apposed Voldemort and his following would be 6 feet under, Molly!" This only upsets her more.
"No, because we would have defeated him. We would've done a better job than you, Harlowe Potter. You don't deserve the title as Chosen One and the glory that comes with it," Molly barks out, her words stinging my heart like a whip as I realize that nobody is coming to my defense against her. Instead, they all are soaking her words up and agreeing with her!
"... you only believe that because you don't think I'm of use anymore. Because I've fought back against you. You, who has been stealing money from my account in Gringotts. Don't think that I didn't realize, Molly. Because I do. I found out months ago and have been slowly realizing your multiple flaws. You've been taking money along with Dumbledore ever since I first arrived at Hogwarts. Little amounts, as to not raise suspicion, but enough to make a dent in my money after seven years. Goodbye, Molly. Say goodbye to your payments and me, but it's not like you cared." I take a moment before apparating away. To Diagon Alley. To Gringotts, which is always open.
I enter the business and walk up to the head. I hand over my key and order the goblins to empty the entire account. They seem perplexed, but oblige after a few protests and convincing.
They hand over the money in a enchanted bag. I thank the short and ugly men and then walk off to the other shops, where I buy my essentials for travel.
I don't know where I am going to go, exactly, but I have heard rumors of a portal which transports the user to a world unknown. Its similar to the Veil, but it's not like I would enter that thing. I don't want to die, I just need to escape. To find something new, like what that portal leads to.
After buying an infinity bag, a new broomstick, potion making supplies, books, and other knickknacks, I'm ready to go.
I know what to do to find this portal as it is in the ministry. All I have to do is find it. Which should be easy now that I know how the Room of Doors works.
I apparate to the Ministry and slip into the place by fabricating my appearance, something I recently learned to do. There aren't many people, but I am on high alert as I limp over. My adrenaline rush has stopped and my ankle hurts like a bitch from how I twisted it.
I make it to the room and then to the Department of Mysteries using my invisibility cloak. I walk down the doors, looking at the plaques on each as I walk.
I finally come across one that I would estimate is my answer. Portal of Arda, says the plaque. That's the name I heard. The word sounds familiar, but I cannot place where it would be from.
I open the door and am met by a mossy cobblestone archway surrounded by more stone and moss. The scene is beautiful and serene. The portal beckons me. Unlike the Veil, I feel comfortable around it and want to step through. This may be a stupid idea, but what else am I going to do?
I shut the door behind me as I fully enter the room. I stand in front of this gateway to another world, hoping for peace in this new realm.
I reach my hand through first and feel a surge of energy as I do so. I feel my magic cackling and igniting under my skin. My skin starts to burn in a way similar to how my scar did when facing the followers of Voldemort. But I ignore the pain and continue on. It should be a sign to stop. To turn back, but I am sometimes stupid like that.
The portal envelopes me as I let myself fall inside. Feelings of warmth, fluffiness, and calmness wash over me as I survey my surroundings.
Then, almost like a Port-Key, my vision starts to get warped. But I have the smarts to level myself out like I saw those three men do back in year three. I land softly at the base of a mountain, a quaint hut behind me and a mountain range and lake in front of me.
I decide on going to the tree-surrounded hut. I notice a note on the door as I approach so I immediately start trying to read it, but I am having difficulty.
"That's odd..." I mumble as I take off my glasses. But my vision becomes as good as when I have them on, if not better. So, I read the long letter.
Dear Traveler,
If you are reading this, it means you have stepped into the Portal of Arda. Do not fear. This place hasn't much in the way of magical beings, but it has tons of ambient magic to draw from.
I am Professor JRR Tolkien. My works are not accurate through and through for the world changes each time I visit. Somehow, someway. But the people are always there. Sometimes they do not have the "right roll", but they exist in the world nonetheless. Use my books as that of a guide. The people still exist and those of high importance keep their status of that.
If you need guidance, seek out the wizard Gandalf. I do not know what you will find, Traveler, but I must say this; The world of Middle-Earth is a peaceful one (at least in the times I have visited). I quite like the hobbits and their company, but you may prefer the elves, men, or even the dwarves.
Depending on what year you are in, that is what the "story line" will fit around. Say, if it is in the First Age, your actions will affect that time. My main focus was on the Third Age as I typically landed in that timeline. I would suggest that you use the Tempus spell to tell the age and year. Inside this hut you will find the tools you need. It is enchanted to go by the time you are in, so no books stating what happens further in because that hasn't happened yet and we shan't know what is to pass until it comes to pass.
I shall send you off now, Traveler. I came unto this world seeking peace and hope that if you have such intentions that you find it. You do not need to use your earth-given name for this world. You have free reign to either rain havoc or peace upon the peoples of middle earth, though if it is the former then you shall be stopped by somebody.
I wish you luck in your endeavors, Traveler, and I hope you find what you are after in this world.
Signed,
JRR Tolkien
P.S. If you have vision problems or a fatal ailment, it shall not affect you further.
I stare at the letter in disbelief. I read those books years ago but remember just the basics of it. I follow the suggestion and cast the Tempus charm without my wand. Normally, such an act wouldn't work, but the amount of ambient magic surrounding me allows such a thing. I smile to myself as I feel the buzz of magic swirl in my palm as the year, date and time are portrayed on it.
TA 2885
Monday June 14
11:43 AM
I rack my brain for the year of when Thorin Oakenshield's company set out. I believe it was TA 2940 or at least close to that time.
I nervously swing open the door and find that the hut is nicely furnished and fits my tastes nicely. It is also much bigger on the inside. I find a table with a map on it with a red dot on where I am located. It is south of a mountain range called Ered Mithrim, with Grey Mountains in brackets beside the name. The lake isn't marked on the map, but the closest rivers are named on the map. R Greylin and Forest River. I will assume that the "R" means river. It would be the most logical answer.
I decide on looking around the house more. I find a bookshelf full of books, a room with many art supplies, the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and a weapons room. As I further inspect the kitchen, I find that the cookbook isn't a cookbook, but a spell book for summoning ingredients!
I empty my bag with my belongings and find everything I brought. I smile as I hold up one of the figurines from my childhood. Everything came crashing down around me, but I have found something new and that's what matters to me. I can leave everything behind and start anew.
First things first; find what species I look the most like. I walk over to the books and am not surprised when one comes off the shelves and floats into my hand. I open it and find the index. I flip to each section and figure out what I resemble the most, which turns out to be men and dwarves. I am short due to lack of food when growing, but I find that I do resemble dwarves a lot. Might as well take the part, eh? Half man and half dwarf sounds like a good fit.
I could pass as one too with the description given. Dwarves are known as tinkerers and toy-makers. Is that much different from making clay figurines? Nope. And making figurines is my specialty. My money could pass as a different currency from other lands if I said so. It is still gold, silver, and bronze. The people here probably just call them coins.
The art room has an array of supplies, all of which I can put to use. And I might as well do that. What else would I do around here while I know so little of the world?
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I didn't go far from my hut for 2 years while I soaked up the information, learned how to properly fight, and practiced making my art. And I had enough of the boring lifestyle after those 2 years. So, I packed up and headed east.
Apparently, in this world, the company of Thorin Oakenshield set out much earlier and none died on the quest. Erebor is a thriving kingdom again and Dale is the rich city it used to be. It has been 17 years since the company reclaimed the place and that's the kingdom I have chosen as my destination.
I used magic to take all the belongings in the hut and compact in into my bags. I packed them all on a wagon and then started off. My horses are two winged horses which I believe to be from the Granian breed as they move quicker than any normal horse. So quick that my journey to Dale is only a day. I cast a disillusionment charm on the wings of the horses and then make my way into the city. There are others on the way, walking. Not a lot of people have horses. But I am not a mean person so I offer a ride for the groups with children. Some do not take my offer, but others thank me profusely and hop on.
We get into the city with ease and I find an open spot to stop. I am approached by a person with a book. Probably the person who manages travelers. The people who hitched a ride hop off and thank me again before wandering off.
"Do you need a spot to set up shop or a house?" The booker asks rudely as he looks me up and down.
"Both, if its possible?" I ask possible. The booker becomes exasperated at the statement and then rambles about how I can only have one because I probably cannot afford the fee for a shop with a house atop it
"Just give me the amount, will ya?" I say over him as I stand up and reach for my bag.
"500 gold coins as a down payment," He states smugly as he looks at my reaction. I roll my eyes and take out 5 stacks of 100 galleons. The eyes of the booker widen, but he takes my money and gives me a place. I am able to stop my wagon at the front of the shop and haul my belongings inside on my own. I then take my horses to the stable after putting the wagon behind my new home.
I am quick to enchant the house and make it larger so that all my belongings will fit. I take the whole day and then-some to clean the dusty shop manually and start to set it up. I will need to come up with a name for the business which may become a hassle.
I stare at the stuff I wish to sell. Its a whole bunch of things I have made. From paintings to pottery, drawings to music boxes, swords to slingshots
"Potter's Art Shop? No... not eye catching... Harlowe's Art & Supply Shop? Hmm... I could make it catching... Eh, I'll go with it." I make the sign using my magic. I think it is now eye catching and will get me some customers when I set it up. But I am not doing that right now. No no, I need to unpack and set up shop.
I start by setting up shelves and tables for my artworks. My best pieces will be displayed in the windows and on the table in the middle of the shop. The summer heat and amount of dust causes me to open the door and windows of the shop to let more air through. I end up taking off my shoes and over-shirt when I get sweaty enough. I am doing all the work manually because I find that you cannot rely on magic for everything. That logic is stupid and gets you killed.
The heaviest of my boxes is the one which holds the many weapons I have crafted. Yes, weapons. I took up being a blacksmith for fun and have crafted enough good-quality weapons. My focus is on artistry, so they are beautiful blades in my opinion.
The people passing by look into my shop and I hear a few children shouting about wanting one of the "toys" I have set up in the window. But nobody comes in because I am clearly setting up.
I take a break around 3 PM, wondering where I could meet some people while I get food. I put my shoes back on and throw my over-shirt upstairs. I do not mind that I am only wearing an undershirt. It may not be proper style for this time period but I could care less what these people think. My biceps and scars are threatening enough for them to get the right picture of what type of person I am.
I walk to the closest tavern and find many types of people inside. Nobody pays me any mind except for the guards at the entrance who eye me up and down. I ignore them and walk over to the bar. I get some food which costs less than what I thought it would be. Since I am only one person, I sit at the bar and nurse a mug of low-strength mead.
My meal comes after 10 long minutes. I am not the type to approach people in fear that they will be rude, but somebody sits beside me and starts to talk with me after I get my food.
"Are you new to these parts?" The man asks as he sits down beside me. I look over at the gray haired man and assess his features for any malicious intent. I come up with none. He has visible smile likes and crows feet on his features and looks like a very kind person.
"Yes, I just bought a shop down the road and have been setting it up since this morning," I reveal to the dwarf. At least, that's what I assume he is. He looks nothing like the obvious men in the tavern and more like the drawings I have seen of dwarves.
"Ah, what type of shop? My name is Balin," The man introduces himself and I recognize the familiar name as one of the people who reclaimed Erebor.
"My name is Harlowe. I sell multiple things but you could classify it as an art shop. The name I have for now is Harlowe's Art & Supply Shop, but it is a working title," I say after I swallow my bites of food. I find it rude to speak with a full mouth.
"An art shop? What type of art?" Balin asks after a few seconds. I am almost finished my meal.
"As I said, multiple things. Sculptures are my main focus but I also have paintings, drawings, and I do have a few weapons." I have no qualms with revealing what I sell as Balin may become a potential buyer if I interest him enough.
"Weapons you say?" interest piqued!
"Yes, would you like to go look at them? I got a ton I want to sell and want some opinions on what I should do to sell them. I already heard children begging for their parents to get some of the items I have on my shelves," I admit with a laugh as I finish up my meal.
"I'll look for your shop later today and meet you there. Does that sound good?" Balin asks as his food is delivered
"Sounds great, Master Balin. I'll be working for as long as I can before I feel too tired which might just be well into the night. I will see you later," I reply as I stand up. I give the barman a tip and then walk slowly through the busy streets. I do not enter any stores but I do some window shopping as I walk, scouting out what shops I may buy from.
I make it back to the place I now call home and continue my work with new energy. My water-skin is enchanted to hold an infinite amount of water, so I need none of that. I happily work away as I listen to the children adoring my shop from outside.
Balin stops by just before dinner, knocking on the door before entering. Another dwarf follows behind him. I would assume that this newcomer is Balin's brother, Dwalin.
"Ah, Balin! How are you doing?" I ask as I peek at the knockers from around a corner. Open and closed boxes sit around the shop with random things strewn across the floor as my packing skills are subpar at best. But I do have boxes that are specific for certain items. Like the four boxes with the word "WEAPONS" in big and bold letters.
I set the items in my arms down and then walk over to those boxes with my pocket-knife in hand. I flip the blade out and then cut open one of the wooden boxes, revealing the large amount of weapons. Balin and the assumed Dwalin walk over and look into the boxes as I go back over to what I was doing last. Setting up the cashier station. I trust them enough to not run off with the weapons.
When I look back up I find them discussing the quality of craftsmanship and intricate design. Dwalin walks over with a dagger in hand and asks how much for it.
"Hmm... I'll give it to you for 50 silver coins," I offer as I set up the cashier counter. Dwalin looks surprised at the cheap offer, but takes it. They leave happily with the single dagger, allowing me to continue my work in peace.
The streets slowly become desolate as the world starts to darken with night. I close the shop door but leave the windows open for the cool summer night air to flow in. The cooler weather is welcome as I sweat. My shirt sticks to my body with sweat as I work, causing chills to run through my body as the wind blows through the open windows.
I decide on going to bed at around midnight. I could go for the rest of the night, but I would rather work when I am well rested rather than tired. I also need to have some form of a sleep pattern. I curse teenage me for being dumb and going to bed after midnight and getting 5 hours of sleep. Life is much better when well rested and fed.
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The next day is mostly uneventful. I made myself french toast for breakfast and then continue working on my shop. I get it all done by midday by cheating just a little bit. Well, maybe not a little bit, but it doesn't matter. Once I finish setting up I sit at the cash counter and draw some concept ideas for what I would like to make and . The door of my shop is open for any customers to come in and I did manage to put up the sign with a little bit of help from a passerby.
I get through most of the pricing by categorizing the items by how they're set up on the shelves and tables. When my brain and eyes start to hurt from the amount of math, I draw. I make some profits for the day, but not a lot as my store still looks unorganized since I have some boxes which will go upstairs or in the back still out.
After finishing the pricing I start setting up the back. It will have extra products, supplies, and extra candies. I always give out candies to the children who come into my shop when I set up in places. Most children bring their friends inside when they realize that I give them out for free.
I use my magic to organize the apartment upstairs. There isn't any point in my moving everything out of the boxes and around when my magic can do that in a flick of my wrist. I'd rather the people see me setting up when downstairs so that they don't get suspicious of how I set up in a few minutes.
After I finish everything, I sit around in the shop and draw as a few customers wander in. The weapons I sell are mounted on the wall behind me for safety purposes. Much like a gun store, almost. But guns do not exist in this world. I mean, I could probably manufacture them, but it would take a long time to make enough to sell.
Not many people come into the shop, but those that do leave with a lot more than they probably thought they would as my prices are lower than one would expect as I do not need any money. I realize that I forgot one thing and quickly whip up a sign and put it in the window.
It reads "Custom orders for sculptures, paintings, and drawings are available." A few more people wander into the shop looking at what I sell after I put that up. They make custom orders and allow me to draw their idea to get what they want down as they are looking for the sculptures.
I close shop when night starts to fall and then start making the custom orders until about 12 at night. I cheat on the simple ones but challenge myself by making the more intricate sculptures by hand. I decide on painting them the next day while sitting in the front so that I can show how I do my work for the passing peoples.
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After a few months of being in Dale, my shop has become very popular for my sculptures. I fully own my shop as the payments on the space were cheaper than I was expecting and I was able to pay it all of easily. In my spare time, I have been working on making more pocket knives to sell. I don't have very many as I need to fulfill my sculpture orders more. It would be better if I had an apprentice, but I do not. Not at the moment, at least. But a person does approach me for one, surprising the lights out of me
"An apprenticeship?" I choke out when the boy in front of me asks.
"Um... Is that a no?" He asks hesitantly, his features scrunching up as he waits for my answer
"Well... Um... what can you do?" I ask as I sit up straight and set down my paint brush
"I can paint and am looking to learn your craft," He says as he hands me a bag. I open it and take out some of the paintings. Needless to say, I am immensely impressed.
"I suppose you may have the job, if you're willing. What do you want to be paid? I can give you a starting salary of 100 silver an hour while I teach you and then we can go from there?" I offer as I stand and extend my hand. He takes it happily and introduces himself and Siven after he accepts the offer of 100 silver an hour
"How old are you, Siven?" I ask with an arched brow
"I am 15 years old, Miss," He responds politely. 15 is the age that dwarf children choose their trade and seek out an apprenticeship.
"Alright, Siven. Meet me here tomorrow. I have my shop closed on Sundays and I will take tomorrow to teach you the basics. You'll start off as a painter and then slowly start making things. Do not expect that you will learn how to make the complex sculptures first. I will give you reading material too," I inform the teen with as much responsibility as I can manage. Siven nods excitedly and then waits in the front as I run upstairs to get him a book on sculpting.
"You want me to read this all?" He asks breathlessly as I hand him the thick book.
"Not immediately. Just at least the first three chapters at least. If you want to read it all, that's up to you. But this job is about quality, not quantity. Keep that phrase in mind, kid. I'll see you tomorrow. Meet me here at about noon and we can start then." The teen nods vigorously and then happily runs from my shop and down the street.
I decide on closing shop early to work on custom orders. I often use magic to complete some of the orders as I wouldn't be able to do everything without it. Magic is apart of my everyday lifestyle and there is no changing as I do not want to get servants or maids to clean my home or do my shop work. I rather like doing the work on my own. It gives me a sense of independence, per say. And now that I have somebody to teach my line of work, its making me feel even more so. I struggle with depression and all the baggage which came from being so famous without and support system, but I manage and push through each day. Sometimes I wish I knew what the markings which appeared on my skin are, but I do not. And that is fine, because at least I feel like I am living life.