Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor the Lord of the Rings franchise. I would be a far richer man if I did,

Summary: Attempting to escape from his bullying cousin Harry Potter, age six year and three months, has an accident which leads to an unusual adventure in a different world

Authors Note: A couple of years ago now I came up with an idea for a Harry Potter/Hobbit crossover after watching the first of the Hobbit film trilogy. I didn't think that I could write it myself so submitted a challenge on a forum on outlining the idea. This is that challenge: topic/125964/83720602/1/Harry-Potter-Hobbit-Crossover-Challenge-or-Request-Either-Way

Viviene Lily took up the challenge and you can see her take on it here: s/11241805/1/a-new-chance and the sequel here: s/11337573/1/back-to-middle-earth

I decided the revisit the idea myself and attempt to write the story. I will post the chapters up to the point where I've hit writers block and maybe continue it at some later date. Bear in mind, please, that I'm probably not the best at writing little kids in character.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

\/\/\/\/A Boy in Middle Earth\/\/\/\/

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"There he goes! Get him!"

Harry hunting.

The sport of kings, if kings resembled a small whale that had learned how to walk on land and accumulated a following of smaller creatures that swarmed about in the hope that if they led him to easier prey they wouldn't end up being prey themselves.

He dodged to the left to avoid a diving tackle, leapt over the fallen body and ducked under a flailing arm then shot off for open ground.

This was quickly becoming the playground favourite of St Gregory's Primary School. It was the fifth time this week this had happened, and it was only Monday!

It was all Dudley's fault of course. It always was. Every time they had a few minutes away from an adult Dudley would look for someone to torment, and it always ended up being Harry. Always. Probably got that from his parents.

More and more participants were joining in the pursuit. Corralling him like dogs on the hunt, trying to trap him. The key was to keep moving. Never stop, never get caught, dodge and duck and bob and weave. He only had to last until the bell then it would all be over.

It hadn't taken long for the other kids at St Gregory's to work out that Dudley was a grade A bully. Dudley had this way of making people pay attention to him. It might have been that he hit people, or it might have been that he shouted and wailed – to say he cried would not do the noise justice – or it might have been the fact that he was as heavy as cow and could squash another kid just by standing next to them. Whatever the case he was the biggest, heaviest, strongest, loudest boy in the classroom and he knew it and everyone else knew it too.

Harry, by contrast, was the smallest and weakest. He was thin as a rake and wore extremely loose fitting and worn second hand clothes – so much so that on a sunny day you could see his bones through the fabric of his shirt – and with wild untamed knotted hair and thick bottle cap glasses everything about him screamed "victim".

It was little wonder then that the rest of the class were all too happy to sacrifice him to save their own skins. And the worst part was he didn't even resent them for it. Really, if he was in their shoes' he'd probably do the same.

But Harry had fundamental weaknesses that made him the easier target over everyone else. He was an orphan, Dudley was his cousin and he lived with his Aunt and Uncle who hated him and adored Dudley. So the universe had decreed that Dudley was to be the bully and Harry was to be the bullied.

At the age of six years, three months and a day, give or take, it was kind of depressing that he'd accepted this as his lot in life and just went with it.

Rounding the corner was the mistake. He hadn't looked, he'd acted on instinct, and, boy, was it going to come back to bite him now! It was a dead end. Walls to both sides leading to a small corner garden containing the school's ornamental pond – used for teaching the kids about bugs and pond-life – and the pack was behind him. There was no way out.

"Got yer now Potter!"

Harry turned towards the voice and there stood a thin weedy boy with a face only a mother could love – or perhaps a rat. Piers Polkiss

"Just let me go Peirs, I've done nothing to you"

"No can do Potter. You had this coming"

"Why? I've never done anything!"

"Yeah, well, Dudley said so, so there!"

Harry knew appealing was in vain. Piers was Dudley's best friend – if you could call any of his followers friends – and was always the first to follow Dudley's orders. In fact, if you could count on Piers for anything it was to hold you down while Dudley hit you. Looking for mercy from him was hopeless.

The only reason Piers hadn't touched him yet was because Dudley wasn't there yet – a boy with Dudley's girth takes a significant amount of time to get anywhere – but the beating was sure to happen when it did.

Now, Harry thought of himself as somewhat brave but he didn't like get hit, he didn't like getting bullied, and he was afraid of it, or, perhaps, it would be more accurate to say, he was afraid of how powerless he was to stop it.

Unconsciously he backed towards the pool. Perhaps on some level he was thinking that he might be able to jump across it and shimmy up the wall to safety before Piers could realise what was going on and get away, whatever the case he misjudged the distance and just as his cousin's flabby profile blocked out the sun Harry slipped and tumbled into the water.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The pond was deep, far deeper, in fact, than any small ornamental pond aught to be.

It seemed to stretch deep into the earth, as if someone had tunnelled right through to the core then put a plug in and filled up it up with water. And Harry didn't just break the surface - he sank like a stone.

He couldn't help but panic. He didn't want to die, and he certainly didn't want to die like this. He thrashed around with all his might, trying to make some progress through the water, trying to find the surface, yet still he sank.

Down, down into the deep dark water he fell. The air leaving his lungs, the light fading from his eyes until all that was left was the pressure pushing him this way and that, squeezing him, stretching him, without pause or pity.

He broke the surface with gasp, choking on gulps of air while at the same time spitting out mouthfuls of water. He wasn't sure how he got out, he was sure he'd still been sinking, but he was out! He was alive!

He was safe!

…at least, as safe as he could be given the circumstances. Any minute now Dudley and his gang would jump on him and beat him up. They wouldn't care that he'd almost died. They never cared at all.

Nothing happened.

Minutes ticked by as Harry remain knelt over by the pool just waiting for the beating that was sure to come but it never did. He risked raising his head to see what was happening and froze.

This wasn't his school.

He was surrounded by trees and bushes and, and, and all other kinds of plants he didn't even know the name of. It was dark and dense and deserted, and he couldn't even see where the forest ended. Now he was paying attention he could hear the cacophony of forest life – the chirping of birds, the rustling of animals in the undergrowth, even the wind whistling through the trees – this made no sense!

He'd just fallen into the school's pond and come out in some forest. He may have only been six years and a bit but even he knew this wasn't possible. You can't fall into a few meters of water in one place and come out somewhere completely different. It just didn't happen.

The shadows in the forest twitched and danced in the fading light and to Harry they appeared like monstrous creatures lurking in the dark. He was afraid, and he was alone.

"Dudley?"

He listened keenly but without much hope.

"Piers?"

And what little hope he had was sinking.

"Anyone?"

No response. Panic set in.

"Please! Anyone! Someone! I don't know where I am!"

Still no answer.

This wasn't fair! All he'd wanted was not to get bullied by his cousin and now he was lost and alone in some dark scary forest. He just wanted to go home! Okay, it wasn't a nice home, but it was still home and still better than here!

Tears fell from his face in streams as the little boy wept and cried out piteously for help, help he feared would never come.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .