Chapter Two: In Search of a Villain

Harry was tumbling through an endless vortex of grey light, spinning round and round. It was quite similar to travelling by Floo Powder, but not as violent. Before he really knew what was

happening, he was deposited in the middle of a desolate wasteland. He was sat on the side of a mountain, the sides covered in sharp, sand-coloured rocks, and the peak rising far above

him into the clouds. The mountain looked over a stretch of flat ground, reaching as far as the eye could see, covered in dead brown grass and pools of stagnant water. After the mountains,

the only bump on the landscape was an enormous black tower looming in the distance, the Dark Mark floating over the top.

Harry felt his heart sink. He'd read the Lord of the Rings books three times, so he knew that this was Mordor, and that he was at the edge of the Emyn Muil hills. He still had the Marsh of

the Dead to get through, then, and Cirith Ungol. Or he could take a more direct route, unless the author actually remembered the existence of Minas Morgul. But it would be a difficult

task, as he had no Smeagol to guide him, or a ranger like Faramir. Hermione would probably know the spells to get out, but Harry just had to keep walking. He couldn't use magic, either,

or Voldemort would probably know.

Harry picked himself up and started to step cautiously down the mountainside. The rocks shifted under his feet, making him stumble frequently, and there were several stunted, thorny

plants that he would cut himself on. Not only that, but Harry had the distinct feeling that he was being followed, as he heard padding feet behind him, crunching on the rocks. As soon as

Harry turned around at the foot of the mountain, there was nobody there. But there was still a low mumble. A low, harsh voice was whispering, "Is that the Boy Who Lived?"

"Of course it is, idiot!" whispered a second voice. "The Dark Lord told us to watch out for him. His telekinesis told us so."

The first voice barked, "Alright, turn around with your hands in the air!"

Harry turned around cautiously. Two men were standing there, dressed in black robes, with metal masks in twisted smiles covering their faces. Death Eaters, for sure. And not only that,

they had weapons: one had a two-handed axe strapped to his back, and the other was holding a short, curved sword and a shield. An Invisibility Cloak lay crumpled on the ground next

to them. The one holding the axe said: "Well, we're not going to be using magic here. Unlike Explodingbomb, the Dark Lord actually pays attention to the fictional rules of this universe."

The one with the sword giggled. "Exactly, Alethor. Should be an easy battle for you, then."

"Quite right, Penelor." said a female voice. Harry spun around to find himself facing a familiar person. She was a girl of seventeen, with the same unnaturally pale skin as Edward, so she

was probably a vampire. She was dressed in clothes that brought to mind somebody who wanted to look gothic, but had no idea what that actually entailed. MCR and Good Charlotte badges

were pinned all over her skimpy black top, and she was wearing a lot of black make-up. Harry gritted his teeth. "Hello, Enoby."

Enoby gave a hollow chuckle. "So ur her then? Kewl. U luk kawaii. Not as kawaii as Darkrco tho. OMG Drakco iz soooo UBERSEXYKEWLkeeeeeyoooootkawaii!!!!!!!!!"

Harry sighed. "I see you still haven't learned to spell, then. And I'm NOT BI! How could you and Tara do that to me? And what kind of middle name is Dementia anyway? Seriously, you're

such a -"

Harry was cut off by Enoby ordering the Death Eaters, Alethor and Penelor, "Vlodrmoet wants Vampire laiev! Take him in bondage! He hath telekinesis!" The Death Eaters looked baffled,

but shrugged at each other, hefted their weapons and began to charge Harry down.

***

Aragorn had found himself standing in the middle of an enormous stone hall, with five long wooden tables sitting there. The roof above was painted exactly like the night sky. There was

nobody about in the hall, and it was utterly dark. Aragorn drew Anduril from its sheath, and started to creep quietly through the hall, drawing his cloak around him. He could feel that

Sauron was in this place. Why would Tolkein have sent him there if he wasn't?

Soon, Aragorn was making his way up a staircase. This was definitely a strange place. The paintings were all snoozing in their frames, but kept waking up and irritably telling Aragorn,

"Get out of here, you stupid cloak-wearing bugger! You're waking us up!" Suits of armor clanked and wheezed at the corners of the hallways, and in the distance there was a maniacal

giggling noise and a clatter of wood. Even the stairs were annoying: every so often, one would shift out of position, or Aragorn's foot would go right through a stair.

On the fourth floor, Aragorn practically tripped over a skeletal-looking cat. The cat regarded him suspiciously with its pale eyes, then started trotting away down the corridor. Aragorn

started to trail the cat through the corridors; there was something wrong about it, something a bit off. The cat eventually came running to another man, an man of about fifty with straggling

grey hair and a sneering face. He fixed a penetrating gaze upon Aragorn, then gave off a sound that was half a laugh and half a wheeze. "So, Mrs. Norris has picked up another intruder!"

The man started to lurch towards Aragorn, who raised his sword, but the man took a pair of strange metal rings, linked by a chain, and put them round Aragorn's wrists. Suddenly, he couldn't

move. The man began to lead Aragorn off. "Heh. Sauron ought to pay me a tidy price for this!"

The man lead Aragorn up many more flights of stairs, until he came to a small room. The room was hung with more dozing portraits, and humming silver instruments sat about the room.

The dead body of a magnificent red and gold bird lay in a cage. And behind a wooden table there was a chair, turned towards the fire burning in one wall. The man threw Aragorn to the floor,

then reverently dropped in a bow. "My Lord, I have another prisoner here for you."

The man in the chair hissed (probably Sauron), "Very well, Filch. You may go." Filch bowed once more, and scurried out of the office, giving another dirty glare to Aragorn as he left.

The chair spun around, and Aragorn tensed himself for death, but it was not the flaming red eye he expected to see that he saw. It was a cruel-looking man in his thirties, with greasy,

straggling black hair, unhealthy sallow skin, and a ridiculous beak of a nose. "S-Sauron?" Aragorn stuttered.

The man in the chair laughed. "Indeed, man of Gondor. I have placed myself in the body of this worm so I shall not destroy all who look upon me. I know that normally, I could not do so,

but who cares, Explodingbomb says I can." Sauron picked up a small piece of wood, and pointed it at the wall, which made a grinding sound and began to move away. He swung the

piece of wood again, almost lazily, and Aragorn flew through the air, behind the wall that had shifted away. Sauron swung the wood again, and the wall ground shut.

Aragorn had found himself in an endless black void, with absolutely no light, except for a few almost infintessimal glimmers. Finally, a voice came from the infinite void. "Aragorn? Is that

you? Thank the gods somebody's here, we haven't seen light for ages!"

"Jon?" Aragorn said, startled. "How did you get here?"

"Oh, I made it to Forks just fine. Then some girl jumped on me and started asking where Edward was and rambling about how he was as beautiful as an archangel, and I was so distracted

I didn't notice a load of Others sneaking up behind me. Edward was in this place before me. We've had nothing to do but chat, and quite frankly, I think Edward's going a bit crazy. Say, have

you got any food? We're not hungry at all, it's just we haven't eaten in weeks. I think they're meaning to make us go mad in here."

Aragorn slumped on the invisible floor. This was hopeless. There was no way to get out, unless Sauron or one of the other villains opened the door, and if they wanted them to go mad, it

probably wasn't very likely. How long was it before they captured Harry or Roland, and left them to go insane in here as well? Jon had told him that Edward already seemed to be succumbing,

and he had had an almost maniacal excitement in his voice as well. Aragorn cursed Explodingbomb. To pass the time, he began plotting what he would do with him if he ever met him.

***

Author's notes: Yeah, this chapter isn't so good. I hope you're gonna like the introduction of Enoby as one of the villains' seconds-in-command, though (for those who don't know Enoby is actually

called Ebony, and she's from the notorious Harry Potter fanfic My Immortal). Thanks to ElvenSailorGirl, my one and only reviewer. Can more people review this thing, please?