Harry Potter Through the Multiverse (Ch. 13)(Exclusive)

Harry Potter Through the Multiverse

Chapter 13

LOTR Arc

“Ooooh, Harry!” the busty barmaid giggled in pleasure as a pair of soft lips attacked her luscious breasts. She bit her lower lip and giggled again, arching her back as her lover’s body wiggled underneath the blanket. The night was cold, but thankfully, his body was warm … very warm, in fact. She wasn’t sure how long they had been going at it. What she did know was that he had made her cum multiple times, which was multiple times more than her husband had done over the last ten years. With his face trapped between her breasts, she felt him shake his head from side to side. No man had ever done such things with her body. Harry was playing with her, teasing her. He didn’t just simply thrust between her legs for a few minutes before finishing inside of her. He took his time and fully explored everything she had to offer. She let out an excited squeak when his teeth pinched the hard tip of her nipple. To make up for the slight pain he had caused, he rolled his tongue over the sensitive nub which nearly drove her mad with desire.

Most men loved her breasts. Nearly every single one who came into the tavern stared at them and undressed her with their eyes. It excited her. True, most of the men that came in weren’t the type she would willingly give her body to, but in her mind, it was still nice to be desired. When she brought their glasses filled with beer, their eyes would focus on her chest and eagerly watch as they bounced around in her dress. Quite often, she couldn’t stop her nipples from growing hard as dozens of pairs of eyes feasted on her form. And oh, how it made her husband jealous. So she had a roll in the hay with a handsome man here and there? What’s it to him? After all, wasn’t it he who was making eyes at the young milkmaid down the lane? When the man who came in calling himself Harry Potter smiled and asked for a drink, she knew that she just had to have him. He was very handsome and best of all, he was clean and sweet-smelling. It didn’t take much for her to hop into bed with him. A few honeyed words later and she was dragging him upstairs while her husband was out back chopping firewood. The new girl could handle the orders for a while. The look in his eyes when she pulled down her dress and showed her tits for the first time had her wet between the legs. It wasn’t long before he was making her cry out in pleasure.

She squealed and laughed loudly when his tongue tickled the underside of her breasts. As much as she enjoyed his lips on her nipples, she wanted even more. Pushing his head down, she gasped when he laid kisses down her slim belly. When his tongue wiggled against her belly button, she suddenly came again, a little louder than she would have liked.

The thin, wooden door of the room suddenly groaned as someone tried to push it in from the outside. The only thing that kept it shut was a small rectangle of wood that was nailed to the door frame. It was spun so that it rested horizontally over both the frame and the door itself. The door was pushed harder, and the wood creaked.

“MATILDA! WHO DO YA GOT IN THERE THIS TIME, HEH?!” a loud, gruff voice yelled from behind the door.

“NO ONE!” Matilda shouted back in a panic. “It’s my husband!” she whispered frantically to her newest lover.

“OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!” he boomed and put his shoulder into ramming the door open.

“JUST HOLD YER HORSES!” she called out.

“I’M GONNA …”

BANG! The door crashed open, and the makeshift lock splintered. Her husband rushed in. “AAAHA!” she shouted, looking around. “What the …” he asked, confused when he found his wife in bed … alone. He didn’t notice but his wife looked just as confused and perplexed as he did. That didn’t stop her from giving him a good tongue-lashing.

“Look what ya did ya big lump!” his wife cried out, pointing to the door. “We can hardly afford to fix the damage ya caused last night when ya smashed that mug over that fella’s head, let alone the damage to this door!”

“But I … I could have sworn I heard a man moan …” the husband said, scratching his head. Matilda shrugged her shoulders.

“Must have been the wind,” she said, giving him the lame excuse while covering her nudity with her blanket. In the lower level of the tavern, she could hear the laughing and other merriment becoming louder, letting her know that midday was nearing. The villagers usually took a break from their daily toils to have a quick drink.

“Maybe,” he replied, still confused before shaking his head. “I’ll go get me hammer and fix the door.”

When he left the room, Matilda quickly wondered where her lover had gone. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen, nor were his clothes and other things. “Harry?” she asked very quietly. She didn’t get a response. It was then that she noticed that something was in the palm of her hand. She opened her hand and found a golden coin resting in her palm. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. In a panic, she quickly hid the coin since there was no way that she could believably explain it. A moment later, her husband was fixing the cracked door while Matilda dreamed of all the things that she could do with that coin. It wasn’t often that a simple bar wench received such gifts. ‘Maybe I should sleep with my customers more often?’ she happily thought over the sounds of hammering.

HPTTM

In a small village along the Anduin River, Harry reappeared out of thin air. A young man, no older than thirteen yelled in fright at the sudden appearance of a completely nude man. He dropped his pitchfork and ran for home. Harry snorted and looked around. There was no one else in sight. He had appeared behind an old shack that was half-burnt. Opposite him was an empty field filled with dried grass. From the pile of hay left behind, the young man was collecting it for his family’s animals. Seeing an old mini barrel that had once held an ale or stout, Harry walked over and sat down on it. He dropped his armful of belongings onto the floor and began to dress.

Harry couldn’t keep the smile from his face. His most recent dalliance had reminded him of the good old days back at home. He had initially gone to the local tavern for a drink, but when he saw the barmaid, he just couldn’t help himself. He immediately reverted back to his old form. A nice pair of tits usually did that to him. Harry stood up and buckled his trousers before grabbing the rest of his things. Whistling a jaunty tune, he walked back into the village proper. By then, most of the men were in the tavern having a drink, leaving the women to do their daily activities. One woman had a crudely woven rug over a line while she beat with a thick, tree branch. With every strike, a cloud of dust erupted from the rug. Giving her a wide margin, he continued on. Another woman was milking a goat while her children ran around squealing happily as they played tag or some other childish game. Across the lane, an old woman with a wild mane of gray hair wove wet reeds from the nearby river into baskets. From his perspective, it was a very strange sight, like looking into the past.

There was nothing special about the village itself. In fact, it was unremarkable in every way. The main lane was unpaved dirt that had been packed down through years of use. The homes were nothing more than small shacks made of hand-cut boards and wooden shingles. Most were gray from being bleached by the sun. The largest building by far was the tavern which had a foundation of cut stones. The rest consisted of the same sun-bleached boards that the other homes were made from. The lack of color gave the whole village a very dreary feeling.

“Fresh veg?” a middle-aged woman with black soot smeared on her cheek asked. Like most people in these small villages, she looked rundown and prematurely old. Harry looked at what she was carrying. In her hands was an old basket that had seen better days. The vegetables that she was carrying looked none too fresh. Quite the opposite actually. The lettuce was brown and wilting, and the squash had squishy spots on them. Maybe this actually passed for fresh in these types of villages, Harry wondered. Digging into his pocket, Harry pulled out a gold coin identical to the one he gave Matilda the bargirl. Like his bag, Harry had enchanted the pockets of his trousers to have extra space. This also ensured that nothing would accidentally fall out.

He made his way to her and placed the gold coin in her hand. “But sir, I have no coins to return the balance,” she said, her face even more withered up close.

“Consider it a gift. Perhaps you should use some of it to buy a new basket,” Harry told her with some amusement, and as if on cue, the bottom of her basket gave out, sending her squash and lettuce to the ground. She yelped and began scrambling to pick them up. Harry took the opportunity to escape without her notice.

Everyone in the village had something to do, and everyone was trying to earn a few coins. While the village wasn’t very large, it did receive a steady stream of visitors. Not many, but enough to earn a living. The Anduin, or Great River, ran from the Grey Mountains of the north, all the way down to Gondor in the south. As such, there were many boats and ferries that passed by.

“Sir?” someone called out. Harry turned in her direction.

“I’m sorry. What was that?” he asked.

“I said are you interested in some pipe-weed perhaps?” she asked with a hopeful look on her face. This girl was the youngest by far that had tried to sell him something. A bit plain looking with dirty blonde hair that bordered on being brown, she still had a kindness to her as though poor village life hadn’t yet sapped her of her joy of life. Harry smiled at the girl, causing her to blush slightly.

Harry had heard of pipe-weed but didn’t know much about it. He assumed that it was a type of tobacco. Galadriel vaguely spoke about it when she told him tales of the Shire and its Halfling inhabitants.

“I’m afraid I don’t own a pipe,” Harry honestly told her. Her eyes lit up.

“I have one for sale!” she chirped and ran inside of her small, wooden home. She came back out with a roll of burlap in her hands. She unrolled it until a plain, wooden pipe fell into her palm. The bowl was roughly cut and slightly misshapen, and the pipe was long and curved. It certainly made for a strange sight. Harry took it in his hands and examined it. The wood was smooth to the touch.

“Do many smoke pipe-weed?” he asked her.

“Mostly in the north, I hear,” she told him. “But the village men enjoy it, and there are plenty of customers who come into the village from the river who like it!” she happily said.

“Do you grow it here in the village?”

She nodded. “Aye. Old Reiynor cultivates an entire field of it. He claims it’s the best south of the Shire … whatever that means.”

“What’s the plant called?” he asked, curiously.

“Sweet Galenas. It makes the entire village smell wonderful when the plants bloom,” she smiled cutely. Harry was intrigued.

“I’ll take the pipe and all the pipe-weed you have,” Harry told her. She looked at him like he was crazy. However, when he dropped a few gold coins and a handful of silver ones into her palm, she squeaked and ran off to get his wares.

All the pipe-weed she had turned out to be a dozen and a half pouches stuffed full. He packed away all but one. He opened the pouch and held it up to his nose. Inhaling deeply, he was pleasantly surprised by the smell. It was rich and earthy with a tinge of something sweet, almost like honey. He reached in, pinched some, and pulled it out. It was roughly shredded and dried. Light brown in color, it had a slight oiliness to it when he rubbed it between his fingers. Deciding to try it, Harry stuffed the pipe bowl full and lit the pipe with the tip of his wand. Harry sucked in and inhaled. Immediately, a pleasant calm overcame him, and his senses tingled. From only a single puff, his body craved more. When he exhaled, a large cloud of white smoke billowed from his lips. Harry coughed a few times, not being used to it. It was rough on the throat, he thought. Harry suspected that this was a low-quality leaf, and he wondered how good it was in the Shire. Harry placed his lips on the pipe and inhaled again. The sense of calm was renewed, but it was more than that. There was almost an electric buzz that ran through his body, making his nerves jump to life. It would be hard for him to explain, should someone ask, but he thoroughly enjoyed it. Harry coughed again, his throat dully burning.

‘I wonder if I can make it better?’ Harry thought as he took another long pull and blew out a cloud of smoke.

HPTTM

Harry flicked his wand and the rock split in half. He held up one half and examined it. Nothing. He flung it over his shoulder into the river. Harry had spent several days walking downriver, looking for minerals. So far he had found plenty of quartz and pyrite but not much else. A few hours later, Harry was very happy to find a large Peridot gemstone. He knew that back on Earth, they weren’t worth all that much. Harry didn’t want them for their monetary value, however. After not finding much more, Harry sighed. This was a lot of work for very little payoff. Something needed to be done about this. He needed to find a suitable trade partner. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much to trade. Yes, he had an abundance of Mithril, but that wasn’t really up for trade. He had plenty of gold, silver, and copper coins, and even precious gems that he could trade. None of this mattered, however, since he didn’t have anyone to trade with. He’d simply have to make do until he found someone. One thing he was sure of, he didn’t want to spend any more time mucking through the water looking for rocks.

“On to Mirkwood I go,” Harry stated, suddenly feeling much happier.

HPTTM

Trees towered over him, their canopies blocking the sun from hitting the forest floor. It didn’t help that high above, massive spider webs were strung from tree to tree, filtering out any light that would have made it down to ground level. The silence was eerie. A healthy forest would have been buzzing with insects while the songs of birds echoed throughout, but Mirkwood was not healthy … not by a long shot.

The bugs that seemed to flourish were the mosquitos. They would bite at the skin and irritate it before flying away with fat bellies filled with blood, only to be replaced with another. At one point, Harry saw a moving shadow that seemed to hum. He was surprised to see that it was actually a cloud of mosquitos searching for its next meal. No doubt a cloud of that size would kill whatever animal it came across. Harry decided to stay clear of any moving shadows while in the forest.

A loud squeal made him turn around quickly. He was only just able to spot a rat being pulled under a pile of dead leaves by a snake of some type. The rat’s legs were twitching as though it had been injected with venom. He would need to watch his step. Harry remained as quiet as possible, and once again, he wished that he possessed the Elves’ brand of personal magic that would allow him to walk across the forest floor without making a sound. Sadly, he did not, and with every step, there was a crunch of dead leaves or breaking twigs that seemed to be amplified by the silence of the ill forest.

During his time in the forest, Harry had the feeling that he was being watched. By what, he didn’t know. It was only a feeling, but it was still unsettling. There were many foul things that called Mirkwood home. It wasn’t long before he found some of them.

Going invisible, Harry watched as a troop of Orcs scurried across the forest path, the last in line dragging the carcass of a dead deer. Harry could tell that the carcass wasn’t fresh. It looked old and partially decomposed. Patches of its brown fur were missing, and the body was a little too stiff to be fresh. Still, the Orcs seemed happy enough. On a whim, he decided to follow them. He didn’t have to watch his footsteps as the Orcs were loud enough to cover the sounds he was making. Being downwind of them wasn’t the most pleasant thing, but Harry persisted. He followed them for over an hour before they broke through the shrubs and disappeared from sight. Harry slowly poked his head through and found a towering fortress staring back at him. Gray and dreary, the fortress was built upon a towering rock that only added to its impressive size. Pointed spires like a set of Orc’s teeth pierced the sky. Speaking of the sky, this was the first time since entering Mirkwood that Harry had seen the sky. What should have been bright and sunny with a smattering of fluffy, white clouds was instead cold and gloomy with clouds as dirty and gray as the rocks that made up the fortress’s foundation.

“Dol Guldur,” Harry whispered, and it was as beautiful as it was terrifying.

Dol Guldur was the Sindarin name for Hill of Dark Sorcery, and Harry thought that the name was quite fitting. He didn’t know much about the fortress, but from what little Galadriel had told him, it was created by someone called the Necromancer, and it had been used to house the vile creatures of Mordor. Upon its creation, a dark gloom fell over the forest, and it remained that way since. Galadriel had stated that she and a company of her peers had entered the fortress and defeated the Necromancer. She didn’t go into further detail, but if that was true, then why were the windows lit up with flickering candlelight? Why were Orcs using Dol Guldur as a playground? It was all a mystery to him. Harry watched as the group of Orcs that he had been following were met by another group of Orcs. Both groups then began devouring the dead carcass like lions on a zebra. Even from such a distance, he could clearly hear them crunching on bones.

A large, black spider similar in size to an Acromantula climbed up the side of the fortress as thunder rumbled high above. Crows cawed from the trees as they waited to scavenge whatever the Orcs didn’t eat. The air in the clearing was charged. He could feel it. It was like a tingle that crept across his skin. Suddenly, an earsplitting shriek made him jump. The bush around him rustled, but thankfully, none had noticed. Harry looked in the direction of the noise and saw what appeared to be a Dementor standing at the foot of the fortress. Dressed in a tattered, black robe, the thing had its hood up, covering its face in shadow. On its hip, a sheathed sword rested. Harry gripped his wand tighter as he silently snarled. He loathed Dementors, and he was surprised that they existed in Middle Earth. As the thing shrieked, the Orcs cowered in fear. The Dementor was then joined by two others.

Harry found something about them strange. He was close enough to them that he should feel at least some amount of despair, but he felt nothing. Were they Dementors, or were they some other type of creature, Harry asked himself. They certainly weren’t human. Humans didn’t shriek like that, nor would they make Orcs cower. He watched as all three cloaked figures went back into the fortress. Harry noticed that they walked, unlike Dementors who seemed to float. Intrigued, he continued to watch.

HPTTM

A man walked through the forest. Bumble was closer to what he was doing. Every footstep was loud and grating on the ears. Didn’t he know that the Orcs were always looking for their next meal? A fresh meal of man-flesh was something they wouldn’t easily pass up. Keeping a close eye on him, the elusive figure jumped from one tree to the next, avoiding those that had active nests in their canopies. Orcs weren’t the only creatures looking for their next meal.

The man was followed closely, though not too close. Though he was clumsy of foot, he was adept at making sure that he wasn’t being followed by the graceless beasts of the forest. It was obvious that he was attempting to be quiet, and he did an admirable job … for a man at least. His stalker knew of the Orcs well before the man came across them. Wondering what to do, there was a sense of shock when the man suddenly became invisible. Curious and confused, the observation continued.

Though unseen, his steps were not. They could easily be heard, and the indents in which his feet left were clear signs of his travels. The direction they were going was clear. “Dol Guldur,” he whispered from the bush. After waiting and watching, the bush finally rustled, and the man stepped out, visible once more.

HPTTM

Harry hadn’t taken more than a handful of steps when a massive spider jumped down from the trees. One of its long, spindly legs clubbed him in the back, sending him sprawling to the ground. As soon as he hit the floor, Harry rolled onto his knee and fired a Sectumsempra. The spider, who was reared up with its two front legs in the air, caught the curse head-on. Two legs on its right side were hacked off cleanly. The spider let out a squealing, clicking sound as it scrambled backward with some difficulty. As it lunged forward to attack, Harry fired a Piercing Hex that blew a deep hole right in the middle of its head. The spider stumbled to the side and hit the ground. Just as it rolled over, its legs curling in, two Orcs burst through the bushes from behind. They opened their mouths and let out gasping growls in his direction. Before Harry could answer, an arrow entered one of their mouths. The tip and shaft exploded out of the back of its head. Less than a second later, another arrow hit the second Orc directly in the middle of its forehead. Two perfect shots, Harry thought as they both dropped to the floor. There was only one being that could shoot like that. As if to prove him right, a beautiful She-Elf dropped down from the trees, just as the spider had done only seconds ago.

Tall and lithe with auburn hair and a bow in her hand, she made for quite the beautiful warrior. “You should not make so much noise in these woods. Next time, I may not be here to help,” she told him. Harry rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t need your help, but it is appreciated nonetheless,” Harry replied, looking at her closer. He had never seen an Elf with red hair. He had only seen one black-haired Elf, and that was a visitor from Rivendale. The She-Elf snorted at his response.

“Regardless, my advice stands true. Come along. I will take you to my camp,” she said, holding out her hand. Harry took it, and she helped pull him back to his feet. Letting go of her hand, he brushed the dirt from his knees. “I am Tauriel of the Woodland Realm,” she introduced herself.

“I’m Harry Potter of Lórien.”

Tauriel raised an eyebrow but did not verbally respond to his introduction. Instead, she jerked her head, silently telling him to follow her deeper into the forest.