Chapter 63
It took a few more seconds before Sirius lifted his head to see who had entered his domain, only to not see anyone. The older dwarf looked around the room before looking at the door.
“What?!” Sirius gasped.
“Hello, Sirius.” The dwarf gave a hesitant smile.
“You’re dead.” Sirius’ voice was flat.
“It seems rumours of my death, have been greatly exaggerated, brother.” Regulus grimaced.
~~~
August 21st 2926
“Regulus Arcturus Black!” Sirius snarled.
“Sirius Orion Black?” Regulus replied.
“What the Hell?” Sirius whispered, all the fight evaporated. “You died getting the locket. Harry told us so.”
“I…” Regulus blinked. “I don’t know anyone called Harry.”
“Harry Potter.” Sirius answered. “He’s James and Lily’s eldest son.”
“Eldest son?” Regulus asked.
“Harry, Rosen and Monty, plus two girls, Briar and Daisy.” Sirius answered, before he shook his head. “He said you drank a poison, gave the locket to Kreacher and told him to leave.” He paused. “There was also a letter to Voldy.”
“It wasn’t a letter.” Regulus argued. “It was just note.”
“A note, he says.” Sirius shook his head, again. “It wasn’t a note, it was a bloody taunt, you idiot. You signed it with your initials. Be thankful it was Dumbledore that drank the potion, while Harry kept the locket, otherwise, Voldy would have got the locket and inferi or not, he’d have made your life – no, your existence – Hell on earth. He’d have resurrected you, just to torture you for as long as he could!” He ended on a near-shriek.
“I don’t think he could have…” Regulus answered. “One second… One second, I was drowning in a cave, at night, and the next, it was the middle of the day. I remember being pulled under the water and trying to breathe and drink the water at the same time… then I was… I was lying in a creek, that ran through the middle of a huge open field.”
Sirius tilted his head as he considered that. “Did anyone speak to you? Between the cave and the field? I fell into the Veil, courtesy of Bella, but I remember speaking to someone. I can never quite remember what they said, or what they looked like. But I definitely remember talking to them.”
Regulus frowned. “I think so…?” His head tilted in the same manner as Sirius’. “Yes. There was a… a man(?) or at least he was a male. But I can’t… I can’t recall what he said…”
“Yeah, that seems to be the general reaction.” Sirius sighed. “Only young Colin can remember what the being they spoke to, said.”
“And?”
“He was told that he’d be needed.” Sirius replied. “Nothing more.”
“Well, that’s helpful.” Regulus grumbled.
“Yeah.” Sirius shrugged. “So, where’d you land?”
“The Iron Hills.” Regulus answered. “I spent over ten years there, got an apprenticeship as a cartwright. Once I finished that, I continued to work for my Master for another four or five years. Long enough to earn enough gold to buy a chest for my tools and a pony and wagon to haul them and headed south. A few people paid me to deliver messages to family in Minas Tirith and Lower Gondor, so I had a little extra for the journey.” He shrugged. “Spent the last seven or eight years wandering the south as a travelling cartwright.”
Sirius blinked. “When did you leave the Iron Hills?”
“2920.” Regulus answered. “Early April, just after the first spring thaw. Why?”
“If you’d visited the healing halls, before you left, you’d probably have met up with Snape. He arrived mid-March.”
“Snape?” Regulus’ eyes were wide. “Severus Snape?”
“Yeah…” Sirius sighed. “He arrived…” For the next hour Sirius explained to his brother everything he knew about what had happened since Regulus’ supposed death.
“I don’t suppose you need a cartwright, do you?” Regulus sighed.
“Actually…” Sirius grinned. “We do. It’s one of the few trades we don’t have.”
“How would I go about renting workshop space?”
“Let me send Harry and Kingsley a Patronus and we’ll go visit Isengar.” Sirius replied. “Harry’s our highest ranked dwarf, he has a Grand-Mastery in knife fighting and is set to Trial for a second Grand Mastery this coming March. Kingsley has just agreed to be our dwarven Trade-Master, but he's still shadowing Harry. And Isengar is the village’s Mayor.”
“If Harry’s your highest ranked dwarf, why’s he not Mayor?” Regulus asked. “Or Trade-Master…?”
“He was Mayor, but it took too much time away from his trade, so he decided to step back. Kingsley agreed to take on the post of Trade-Master, he's got a bit of experience, he was Minister for Magic, at least until he joined a group of refugees in coming here. Isengar was one of the Thain of the Shire's sons and he'd been trained to take up the position if need be. He was asked to take over the position of Mayor and it’s basically his trade, now.” Sirius answered.
“Ugh, good grief…” Harry muttered, after he’d listened to Sirius and Regulus’ story. “How many more people are going to front up? Who’s next? Tom? Grindelwald? Merlin? The ruddy Founders?”
~~~
November 5th 2926
“Oh well done, little lion.” Harry beamed as Jax stumbled his way across the courtyard in front of Harry’s workshop. “One year old and already walking.”
“Just like his father.” Lily added. “Although, you didn’t really do much walking, you went straight to running and chasing the cat.”
“I wonder whatever happened to Baxter?” James hummed as he leant against Harry’s workbench.
“Baxter?” Cedric stuck his around the doorframe. “Baxter? Who’s asking about Baxter?”
“Mum.” Harry replied. “Apparently, Baxter is what she and dad named their cat.”
“Oh, is that where he came from?” Cedric countered. “Mum brought him home one night, never told us where she got him, just looked sad whenever anyone asked.”
“Elsbeth was a good woman.” Lily nodded. “I could see her doing that.”
~~~
March 14th 2927
“Welcome to the Whomping Willow’s Pond, Master Karol.” Harry gave the older dwarf a bow.
“You welp.” Karol snarled.
“You didn’t like my gift, then?” Harry snorted, he knew the older dwarf wasn’t in earnest.
Karol raised a fist and shook it at him. “Mithril, you welp. You left mithril. More than most dwarrow see in a lifetime.”
“Enough to make your old age comfortable.” Harry countered.
“If you didn’t have nadnith in your arms, I’d show you ‘old’, you young cur.” The older dwarf snarled.
“I am glad you decided to come.” Harry let the humour fall from his voice. “We already have two Sigin'Tarbûnel, here at the Pond. Lavender can swing an axe but she’s not great with a sword or dagger. And Master Harden is convinced that I’m ready for my Trial, but I’ll feel happier with a second opinion and I know you’ll give your honest opinion.”
“That I will.” Karol nodded. “When do you do your training?”
“Every morning.” Harry answered. “I’ll show you where, after we get you settled in the Quad.”
~~~
March 15th 2927
“Well, that’s a sight…” Karol sighed. “I’ve never seen blades like them, but yon lad’s knife-work was beautiful. He’s ready for his Tarbûnel beads. Standing against him and them blades? No easy feat.”
“I trained Colin, though.” Countered Harry. “I know how he moves.”
“Dain't matter.” Karol shook his head. “You can know all his moves, but you still have to counter them. You still have to have the skills to avoid his blades. Knowing is less than a quarter of the battle. Skill makes up the rest. If you don’t have the skill, all your knowledge is wasted.”
“Welcome to the Whomping Willow’s Pond, Master Tavric.” Harry grinned as he greeted the dwarf that had started him on his Middle-Earth journey.
“Young Harry.” Tavric shook his head at Harry. “You scared the blazes out of my cleaning staff, you know that, don’t you?”
“Didn’t they like my gift?” Harry’s grin grew.
“You left a filled sceptre to be divided among them, plus an ounce of mithril for each of the three laundresses.” Tavric chided.
“And…?” Harry laughed.
“I should have listened to Karol.” Tavric mock-moaned. “He warned me you were trouble.”
“Ha.” Harry laughed. “You need to have a talk with Minerva. Or Hermione. They’ll tell you exactly how much trouble I can be. You’ve seen nothing, yet.”
“Oh, Mahal…” Tavric shook his head.
Harry just laughed. “And I was nice enough to leave you a gift, too.”
“Mithril, Harry, mithril.” Tavric huffed. “You left a pound of mithril for Karol, Sílor and myself. A pound! Each!”
“I did.” Harry grinned as he spoke.
~~~
March 18th 2927
“Welcome to the Whomping Willow’s Pond, Master Barric, Master Forli.” Harry grinned at the pair.
“Harry, lad.” Barric looked slightly overwhelmed by the number of people milling about.
“Harry.” Forli just grinned.
“Ashamâkh, young Harry.” Tomma leant against her wagon.
“Ashamâkh, Tomma.” Harry gave the tattooist a short bow. “Didn’t expect to see you, here.”
“I figured that you might want a new tattoo to celebrate your Grand-Mastery.” The dwarrowdam answered.
“Hmm…” Harry hummed. “Let me get through the Trial and talk to my wife, before you start drawing up designs.”
“Got a wife and babe, been busy, haven’t you?” Tomma teased.
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.” Harry laughed.
~~~
March 19th 2927
“Master Sílor.” Harry crossed the Tankard’s barroom to join Halphi and the two beadsmiths that had answered his invites. He gave the Master Beadsmith a bow.
“Ah, Master Harry.” Sílor raised his tankard. “Have you met Felton, yet?”
“Not as yet.” Harry gave the other dwarf a short bow. “Master Felton.”
“Master Harry.” The redheaded dwarf nodded back. “Halphi's been telling us about your knife Trial at Tharbad.”
“Ah.”
“Is it true? That you had no idea, that Uzbad Thorin and his cousins had set you up for Grand-Master’s Trial?” Felton asked.
“Oh, most definitely.” Harry replied. “Not the faintest clue. Caught me complete wrong-footed when Thorin explained. And that wasn’t until after I’d faced Nori Ri.”
“I look forward to watching your training sessions.” Felton laughed. “Standing against Nori Ri, is as bad as standing against Karol. And I understand that you did that quite well?”
“Eleven minutes, twelve seconds.” Harry confirmed.
“And you stood against Nori Ri, without your preferred blades and still bested him.” Felton nodded. “Yes, I’m looking forward to this.”
~~~
March 20th 2927
“Master Fundin, welcome to the Whomping Willow’s Pond.” Harry greeted the older dwarf.
“Young Master Harry, you’ve done well for yourself.” Fundin bobbed his head, grey hair only just starting to outweigh the deep chestnut, that reminded Harry so strongly of Hermione’s.
“Your sons have rented one of our cottages for the month, so if you’ll follow Teddy, he’ll lead you there.” Harry laid a hand on Teddy’s shoulder.
“Much appreciated, young sir.” Fundin nodded to Teddy and dug out a coin from his belt pouch.
“Master Dwalin already gave a florin, Master Fundin.” Teddy shook his head.
“Ah. He’s a good lad.” Fundin nodded.
“He’s gonna teach me how to use a knuckleduster, only… don’t tell mama, she wants me to learn staff fighting first.” Teddy continued to chatter away to the older dwarf as he lead the way towards West Hill.
“You won’t need the livery yards.” Harry called, before they got too far. “There’s plenty of room for your ponies, the block’s a couple of acres.”
“That’s grand.” Fundin threw Harry a quick smile over his shoulder and hurried after Teddy.
~~~
March 22nd 2927
“Moody.” Harry barely glanced up from the lock he was working on.
“Potter.” The old Auror replied.
“Nope, dad’s the potter, I’m the locksmith.” Harry refused to answer to a surname, anymore.
“Oh, ha, ha…” Moody said in a flat voice. “I want to buy a block of land, but I’m not sure it’s marked or labelled, or whatever you do here.”
“Where is it?” Harry finally looked up.
“Up past where Mill Road crosses North Creek.” Moody answered.
“Yeah, that’s not marked.” Harry sighed. “Let’s go see Isengar. We’ve been meaning to mark up to Mill Road, but just haven’t got there, yet. How far beyond the crossing?”
“About a mile.”
“Hmm… not planning on dividing up blocks, that far up.” Harry frowned. “Might be easier to mark up just the block you want.”
“I’d like a few acres.” Moody grunted. “Want to grow some berries.”
“Berries?” Harry blinked in surprise. “You want to grow berries?” Moody as a berry farmer? Harry couldn’t see it.
“Yeah.” Moody nodded. “Raspberries and blackberries, all around the block, lots of thorns. No-one’ll be getting through them. Only way in or out ‘ll be apparition and you’ll have to keyed into the wards, or you’ll be spat out in the middle of the Brandywine.”
Harry snorted. “That… is more like what I’d expect from you…” He just shook his head. “Yeah, show me where you’re talking about and I’ll mark it up and inform Isengar.”
“Does he have to know?” Moody frowned.
“It has to go in the records.” Harry answered, as he tidied up his work bench. “And you need to key in at least two people to your wards. Preferably, Bill Weasley as one, he’s the closest we have to a warder.”
“Nymphadora.” Moody answered.
“If you want a Green Amethyst shard as your wardstone, it’ll cost you.” Harry warned.
“Green Am…?” Moody gasped. “You have Green Amethyst? For sale?”
“The village wardstone is about the size of a plum.” Harry decided he needed to explain a little more before he actually answered Moody’s question. “After buying this place we went hunting through all the gems we had, private as well as communal. We found one hundred and three stones and fifty-two shards of Green Amethyst. Only one stone and two shards had fractures, we ground them down to powder and used them in the mortar of the Quad to boost the building’s magical maturation. It’s not sentient like Hogwarts was, it’s too young for that, but instead of taking five or six hundred years to gain that sentience, the Quad is likely to ‘wake’ in about one to one hundred and fifty years. After talking it over at a meeting we decided that we would break down the three largest stones into shards. That should give us enough to ward about a thousand individual properties, up to about ten acres each.”
“One thousand…” Moody whispered.
“Oh, that’s only just the beginning.” Harry smirked. “Since arriving, we put out the word, that we were looking for a particular type of stone… we gave a description and left out a name… and that any dwarf that found one, would be well paid. We’ve gained another ten stones and twenty shards, through that. We plan to keep a minimum of fifty as stones suitable for warding an entire village, something of a similar size to the Pond. The other stones will be kept for the future, some might be broken down, but definitely not all of them.”
“Green Amethyst…” Moody whispered again.
“Think about it and let Kingsley know, he and Bill Weasley are in charge of the stones.” Harry shrugged. “Now, show me this block you want.”
~~~
March 24th 2927
“Welcome back, lads.” Dwalin nodded to Fíli and Kíli.
“We’re not too late, are we?” Fíli asked.
“Harry’s not done his Trial, yet?” Kíli asked.
“Nay, lads.” Dwalin shook his head. “Day after tomorrow.”
“Oh, thank Mahal.” Kíli sighed in relief.
~~~
March 25th 2927
Harry and Hermione watched as Bilbo faced his Trial for knife fighting. As his primary Master, Harry shouldn’t Judge him, not unless there were no-one else of his rank available, but thankfully, Nori Ri had turned up the night before and offered to Judge the hobbit’s Trial.
After Bilbo, it would be Colin’s turn to fight. He was Trialling for Tarbûnel’s beads in staff fighting and a tarbûn shopkeeping and gem setting. And unknown to Harry, he’d been asked to stand as one of Harry’s opponents as part of his own knife fighting Master’s Trial.
“He’s doing well.” Hermione said, nodding to the hobbit, who’d just slashed Nori Ri's leg.
“He is.” Harry grinned.
“How’d he go with knife throwing?” For someone muggle raised in the eighties and nineties in greater London, Hermione had acclimated to Middle-Earth surprisingly well. Only the day before, she’d been through her own Trials, for sword and staff fighting, earning utrab and tarbûn beads, respectively, to go with the beads for her magical studies.
“No advancement, yet, but it’s clear that he’s improved.” Harry replied. “Nori says that another year will see him with a Tarbûnel’s bead.”
“When’s the Quest, again?” Sirius leant towards them and asked.
“2941.” Hermione answered.
“So we’ve still got… um… fourteen years?” Sirius frowned. “Is that right?”
“Fourteen years, next month.” Hermione nodded.
“Right.” Sirius rocked his head backwards and forward, not quite a nod but something close to it. “Has Thorin made mention of it, yet?”
“Not really.” Harry shook his head. “He’s mentioned his father a few times and from what I can remember, looking for Thráin is a catalyst.”
“Not really, Harry.” Hermione corrected. “It’s a combination of things. That his people in the Blue Mountains are struggling for food. That there aren’t many dwarflings being born. That looking for Thráin puts Thorin where Gandalf can find him. Plus a few other things. The Pond might be helping, as far as some food and treatment for the dwarrowdams is concerned, but only in a very small way. We’re not enough to change their circumstances, all that far. They need a better place than the Blue Mountains and that’s Erebor.”
“So, the Quest is still going to happen?” Harry asked.
“We haven’t done anything to stop it. So, yes, the Quest should still happen.”
“Good.” Harry turned his attention back to Bilbo and Nori’s bout.
On another set of seats, on the other side of the Training Grounds, another conversation was taking place.
“Well, now…” Gloín huffed. “I thought you were going to leave Master Baggins for another couple of years before Trialling him for a Grand Mastery?”
“I had thought that, yes.” Thorin nodded. “But after talking to Harry and Nori Ri, I decided to bring it forward.”
“Why?”
“Master Baggins petitioned Harry for lessons with Griffin Blades.” Thorin answered. “And while he’s unlikely to make Sigin'Tarbûnel with them, we felt it better to finalise each of his weapon styles before he gets too far into a new field.”
“Remind me what he’s got?” Gloín asked.
“Utrab for hand-to-hand and sword.” Thorin began to list Bilbo’s achievements. “Tarbûn for knife throwing, staff fighting and Healer’s Aid, although Nori did note that he’s significantly improved with his knife throwing and believes that another year or two, will see him with a Tarbûnel for it. He’s Trialling for knife fighting today and administration tomorrow, with Griffin blades on Monday.” Thorin paused while he counted them out to ensure that he hadn’t missed any.
“And Scribe, too.” Dwalin added. “Balin said if he was going for administration, he should go for Scribe, as well. He can’t go beyond tarbûn in Common, but it’s still enough to be recognised.”
“Well, now.” Gloín repeated his earlier huff. “That’s a decent collection of beads. Hobbit or not.”
“Aye, it is.” Thorin nodded. “And he’s requested permission to commission a set of Family Beads. Apparently, his father’s health is failing and both he and his mother find comfort in the concept of our mourning beads.”
“There’s little worse than watching a loved one’s health fail.” Gloín said sombrely.
“And Master Baggins clearly doesn’t intend the request as a mockery, not if he’s already got, and wearing, a number of atrâb beads.” Dwalin added.
“No.” Thorin agreed. “No mockery intended.”
“Then I say, let him.” Gloín declared.
“I agree.” Dwalin nodded.
“As do I.” Fundin said from his seat, on the far side of Gloín.
“You were listening, Adad?” Dwalin asked.
“I was.” Fundin replied. “And the hobbit is doing himself and his Master proud, out there.” The older dwarf nodded to the last two still in the Trialling Circle. “He’s dispatched them all, bar Nori Ri and while he’s been blooded twice, he’s well past ten minutes. He’ll wear mithril for this fight.”
“That’s high praise.” Thorin stated.
“No.” Fundin corrected. “Not praise, at all. How many people… dwarrow or otherwise… do you know, that can stand against Nori Ri for ten minutes?”
Dwalin and Thorin looked at each other and blinked a few times.
“Two…? Possibly three…?” Dwalin phrased it as a question to his cousin.
“Yes…” Thorin nodded. “Harry, definitely. Obviously, Master Baggins. And possibly young Colin.”
“Three?” Fundin blinked. “I knew that Master Harry wears mithril but I’d forgotten it was Nori that he faced. But who is Colin?”
“Colin is Harry protégé.” Dwalin answered. “He’s also Trialling this week.”
“Huh…” Fundin grunted. “I look forward to his bout.”
“I never thought I’d declare a hobbit, as Sigin’Tarbûnel.” Nori Ri stood beside Masters Harden and Sorren on the Judges’ podium, as he spoke to the gathered audience. “But that’s exactly what I’m doin’. Bilbo Baggins bested five experienced Masters and then stood against me, a Grand Master, for another eleven minutes and thirty-eight seconds. Only one person has lasted longer and tomorrow he Trials for his second Grand Mastery. But today, Bilbo Baggins has earnt the right to wear mithril!”
The cheer that rose after his declaration was bright and loud. Many dwarrow had come to know and like Bilbo and a Grand Mastery was rare, even for a dwarf. Bilbo was the first non-dwarf in living memory to be granted mithril and only the second in recorded history, the first being Celebrimbor, who along with his partner Narvi, had built the great Doors of Durin that lead into Khazad-Dûm. The deep rumble of dwarrow voices was echoed by the lighter cheers of the local hobbits, many of whom would be Trialling for their own beads in the coming days.
“Step forward, Bilbo, son of Bungo, son of Mungo, and receive your mithril.” Nori held up a simple chain of black-steel holding a single bright mithril ring.
When the only slightly smaller hobbit stood in front of him, Nori held the chain in both hands to form a wide loop and slipped it over the hobbit’s head. He laid his hands on the hobbit’s shoulders and turned him to face the crowd.
“I give you Bilbo, son of Bungo, son of Mungo, Grand Master of the Knife!” Nori stepped back and along with Harden and Sorren, left Bilbo standing at the front of the podium.
“Rest you well, tonight, young Master.” Harden advised Harry, as he and Hermione were leaving the Training Grounds. “Tomorrow is a big day, for you.”
Harry didn’t answer, but he did heave a sigh.
~~~
March 26th 2927
Harry was nervous. Why was he nervous? He already had a Grand Mastery, what was there to be nervous about?
That didn’t change the fact that he was nervous.
Harry stood at the edge of the Trialling Circle, waiting to see who he was going to have to fight against.
“Harry, son of James, son of Fleamont,” Thorin’s voice filled the Training Grounds. “You come before us to be Judged if you are worthy of mithril. Griffin blades are a new style of blade, which requires a new style of fighting. Finding dwarrow capable of fighting against you was not the easiest of tasks. Finding dwarrow capable of fighting against a Grand Master was even more challenging. But find dwarrow we did. Forli, son of Makli, son of Tonli. Grinlan, son of Vanlan, son of Borlan. Larric, son of Barric, son of Verric. Delmah, son of Tannah, son of Sonnah. Malleg, son of Twaleg, son of Sammeg. And lastly, Colin, son of Russell, son of Joseph.” He paused to let the audience absorb that. “It should also be noted that this bout shall be considered a Master of Knives Trial for Colin, who has been training with Harry for the past few years.” He turned to Harry. “Harry, son of James, son of Fleamont. Are you ready to be Judged?”
“I am.” Harry was suddenly calm, in sharp contrast to a few moments ago.
Thorin turned to the gathered fighters. “Fighters? Are you ready to stand against one who is to be Judged?”
As one, the six dwarrow spoke. “We are.”
“Then step to the Circle.” Thorin ordered. “You six stand against Harry, when he draws your blood three times, you will withdraw from the Circle, not to enter it again. The same applies to you, Harry. If, or when your blood is drawn three times, you must quit the Circle. If you are not within the Circle within two minutes, you forfeit the bout. If you forfeit or you are forced to quit the Circle, you cannot challenge again for this weapon, for five years. When you are ready, enter the Circle.”
Harry closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, when he opened his eyes, he turned to look at Hermione, as she sat between his parents and Minerva.
“At least it’s not a Basilisk, again.” He said, just loud enough for her to hear.
“Or Voldemort.” Hermione replied. “You know you can do this.”
“So… Get it done, huh?”
“Mithril looks good on you. Go get it.” Hermione knew she was pushing the boundaries of propriety with that comment, but he was her husband and if she wanted to flirt with him, she would, spectators be damned.
“Yes, ma'am.” He grinned and stepped over the carefully sunken ring of timber, into the Circle.
~~~