Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: The Unlikely Visitor (#4474)
Author: MrsAnalytica
Chapters: 25

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Crossovers
Description: After the War of the Ring, Sauron got thrown into the Void as a bodiless fÃ«a. As he wasn't expecting to ever get out of there before Dagor Dagorath, suddenly falling out of the sky and crashing right into another world came as a bit of a surprise. 
Sure, he was happy enough to have a body again... but as soon as he realized he had fallen in the middle of a large family of messy, redheaded wizards, he doubted his luck.
Will Sauron cope with the Weasley Family, or are we in for disaster? Either way, it's going to be a rough ride...
(Plays during the Goblet of Fire in the HP Universe, obviously AU but tries to follow the main events of the book as good as possible.)
Published: 24 May 2013
Updated: 20 Jun 2013
Warnings: sex, torture, character death, cussing
Type: Humour
Characters: Sauron; Ginny Weasley; Aurora Sinistra; Voldemort


Chapter 1 - In Which An Unexpected Visitor Enters Through The Roof.

The Void was big, boring, and very empty. That was about all there could be said about it. Sauron had forgotten how long he was there already, for time didn’t really matter anyway when you were both sentenced for life and technically immortal. He knew it had to be a long time. At first he had been angry, and his guess was that he had been for quite a few years. He still was, but it was a less all-encompassing anger now and he was capable again of producing a thought that wasn’t some foul expletive. It was a pity, actually. You didn’t notice the slow passing of time so much when you were focused on wishing Eä and all its inhabitants to hell. 
The Void was a confusing and disorienting place, but as soon as he had gotten used to floating in nothingness, he had had all the time in the world to think over his situation. He was used to being disembodied; he had lost his body… six times now, over the course of the ages. It could be seven too. Even for an immortal Maia that was quite a track record. Not all his physical manifestations had been equally attractive; actually they hadn’t been attractive at all after Númenor, and his last one certainly hadn’t been the most practical one. And now, being cast into the Void, his chances of getting a new body were about zero. Not a pleasant thought. 
Sauron knew that eventually he would be obliged to start thinking over his actions rather than his not very variable situation, but for now he pushed that in front of him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have the time to do it later, he had eternity in front of him.  However, it turned out that he had less time than he thought he had. The changes came unexpectedly and quickly, and later on he wouldn’t be able to recall what exactly had happened and how. The only thing he suddenly knew for certain was that he wasn’t floating anymore. He was falling. As in, rapidly plummeting towards the ground under the influence of gravity. The realization came so suddenly that he barely had the time to brace himself for impact. 

The first thing he encountered was obviously not the ground, because he managed to break through it. He didn’t have the chance to realize what it was though, before he hit the second obstacle and broke through that as well with a sickening bang. In total he crashed through 9 layers of hard material before he finally landed on what he presumed was the ground. Lying there, he made two important realizations; realization A, he had a body. Realization B, he might very well just have broken every bone in it. Rather dazed he opened his eyes and looked up. Above him he could see a patch of blue sky, through a series of holes in a structure. Great. Of all places the Void could have spit him out, he had to fall right through a building. Bless the Valar, he sarcastically thought. 

The Weasley family was sitting around the table for dinner when it happened. A loud, crashing sound resounded on the attic. Molly looked up in worry.
“What was that?”
Ron dismissively shrugged.
“Probably just the Ghoul being loud.”
Then the second bang resounded, quickly followed by a louder third one, and it dawned on the Weasley family that it wasn’t the ghoul. For a moment they listened to the increasingly loud crash-bang-boom sounds their house was suddenly producing, until Bill all of a sudden understood what was going on…
“EVERYBODY BACK AWAY! SOMETHING’S FALLING THROUGH THE HOUSE!”
They were just in time, as the moment they all dived away from the dinner table the ceiling broke through and a human shaped object crashed straight through the dinner table and floorboards, sending smashed glassware, wood splinters and other unidentified material in all directions. For a moment after the crash, everything was quiet. Then Arthur Weasley crawled up and exclaimed,
“Merlin’s dirty buttocks! What was that?!”
No one really knew the answer. They all curiously peaked into the crater in the floorboard to see what had fallen into their house. To their surprise it turned out to be a man, who was both surprisingly unscathed and completely naked. 
“Is he dead?”
“I don’t think he’s dead, he’s breathing.”
“How the hell did he ever manage to break through 7 floors and a roof?”
“Don’t forget the dinner table.”
“Maybe a broom accident?”
“You obviously know nothing about brooms. Even with a Firebolt at maximum speed you wouldn’t have gotten further than the second floor. Besides, does he look like he was sitting on a broom?”
“He’s naked.”
“Exactly.”
“How is that guy still alive?”
The men got caught up in a discussion about brooms, dangerous quidditch moves, muggle pararashushes, and the thickness of floorboard, all the while ignoring their uninvited guest. It was probably part shock and part male nature. Molly, who had been more than a little shocked over the loss of her dinner table, was the first to recover and point her attention to the stranger, whose eyes were now open. 
“Sir? Are you all right?”
It was a stupid question, because obviously someone who had just fallen straight through a house wasn’t all right, but it was the only thing she could come up with to say. The stranger blinked a couple times, before uttering something that sounded completely unintelligible. 
“Err… Excuse me? Do you speak English?”
Again, an unintelligible phrase, but this time with a distinct tone of irritation in it, as if it was her fault that he didn’t speak English. Molly turned to her oldest son, Bill. As a curse breaker he had to be familiar with a whole lot of languages, so maybe he recognized whatever this specimen was speaking.
“Bill dear, do you happen to understand what he’s saying?”
“He’s conscious?”
“If you had been less focused on Wronsky Feints Gone Wrong you would have noticed that. Yes he’s conscious and I don’t understand a word of what he’s saying.”
“Well, let’s see…”

Sauron was annoyed. His whole body hurt, and although it wasn’t the worst pain ever it still was pretty unpleasant, seeing that he hadn’t felt pain in couple hundred years. That he was completely naked and surrounded by curiously staring redheaded Men didn’t really add to his mood. To add insult to injury they were all conversing in a language that didn’t sound the least bit like any language he knew. He was softly cursing to himself when one of the Men suddenly took out a short wooden stick and waved it around in a complex manner, while chanting something in another language than the one they had been speaking so far. For a fraction of a second there was a bright orange light, and then suddenly Sauron realized he understood what they were saying as if they spoke normal Quenya. 
“…you think it worked?”
“Well, if he understands us and we him, it worked.”
“What did you do?”
“Just a two-sided translation spell I picked up on an Egyptian excavation. Useful for talking to the locals.”
They were discussing the spell one of them had used. Since they could use magic, obviously they weren’t normal Men. Sauron was just contemplating what they might be when suddenly the woman in the company pointed her attention at him. 
“Sir, do you understand us?”
“Yes. I do.”
“What happened to you?”
“Err…”
Now that was a long story, and not one he felt like telling these creatures. The woman interpreted his hesitation as something other than unwillingness though.
“Oh Merlin I am so impolite! Are you injured? Can you get up? Give me a moment, I’ll find you something to wear. My, my, I’m very sorry Sir, it’s just that people don’t usually fall through our roof.” She turned and yelled at the other men with the stature of an army commander. “Don’t you stand there like a bunch of dunderheads! Arthur, go get me one of your robes, and the healer’s kit! And the rest of you, out! Go see how bad the damage to the house is!” She then turned back to Sauron and smiled politely. “Useless without explicit directions, that bunch!” 
She said it without malice, he noted. He guessed based on general looks that the other inhabitants of the house were her family, so perhaps that was no surprise.
“My name is Molly Weasley. Just call me Molly.”
“Molly Weasley…” He tasted the name on his tongue. It sounded a bit like a Hobbit name, but the woman was far too tall to be a Hobbit. It seemed she was waiting for him to return the introduction, so he gruffly said.
“I am Sauron.”
He tried to move and found that although everything was very sore, his new body was apparently made of rather sturdy material. Or maybe some remnant of the Void had protected him from the worst of the impact, he didn’t know. Suppressing a moan, he tried to sit up. Immediately the woman reached out to help him. He shook his head.
“I’m fine, leave me.”
The woman raised an eyebrow, as if she dared him to repeat that, and soon Sauron found out that one did not simply say no to Molly Weasley. A few waves of her magic stick later he was sitting on a couch, dressed in very unfamiliar clothing, and she was checking the various scratches on his arms, legs and face. 
“I can’t believe you’re not hurt worse than this. What did you do? Did you have a broom accident?”
“A… broom… accident? What do you mean?”
Sauron didn’t think he had understood that very well. Perhaps the translation spell was malfunctioning. How could a cleaning device have something to do with him falling out of the sky? Molly eyed him suspiciously. 
“You don’t know what a broom is?”
“Of course I do! I simply don’t see how it could possibly be related to my incident.”
Molly’s eyebrows shot up again.
“You are a wizard, aren’t you? I mean, I didn’t think there was much doubt, as I don’t see a Muggle survive such a fall, but…”
“I am not one of the Istari, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Sauron believed he had never been so confused in his entire life, and knowing he was older than time that was quite a feat.
“Istari?” Molly turned her head and yelled through the hole in the ceiling. “Bill, your translation spell is malfunctioning!”
Someone, most likely “Bill”, yelled back.
“It doesn’t translate slang words, mom! If you don’t understand a word, ask him to explain it in different words! By the way, Ron’s bed is broken too!”
“Damn! Do you think the insurance will cover it all?”
Another voice answered in Bill’s place.
“Cause of damage: mystery dude falling from the sky? That will go over well!”
“Ron, the ‘mystery dude’ can understand you now!”
“So?”
The household of Molly Weasley was very, very loud, Sauron thought. He wondered how they communicated when there wasn’t a hole in the ceiling. Perhaps they simply yelled louder? The conversation upstairs was apparently no longer interesting to Madam Weasley, because she turned back to him.
“So, Istari? Bill says the spell doesn’t work on some words so you have to explain those differently.”
It was slowly yet steadily starting to hit him. This was not Middle-Earth. A rather late realization, Sauron thought. Usually he was faster in picking those things up. He swallowed a very ugly word in Black Speech and thought fast. How had this happened? Why was he here? Could he get back? How had he gotten a body? What did it look like? Was he still able to reach his powers? A plethora of questions suddenly overwhelmed him. Molly Weasley was still staring at him, waiting for an explanation of the unfamiliar word. How was he supposed to explain this to her when she wasn’t familiar with the concept at all?
“Men call them Wizards. They use magic.”
They usually also had long beards, pointy hats and fancy staffs, and in general they weren’t too friendly with him. That he didn’t tell Molly. He had no idea what kind of world this was and how power was divided here. It would do him no good to reveal that he had enemies in wizards back on Middle-Earth, as it would cause a whole lot of questions he really didn’t want to answer now.
“Well, we are wizards, the whole family.” She frowned. “You just said you are not a wizard, but you are obviously well acquainted with magic…”
It was unavoidable. He knew far too little to masquerade as one of them, so he had no choice but to be honest… to a certain extent.
“I… I am not of this world.”
“How do you mean?”
“I come from a place called Middle-Earth. A part of Arda. It’s… not here.”
Molly looked at him with big and slightly disbelieving eyes.
“You’re not from Earth?”
“Well… Arda is sometimes referred to as Earth, but it’s… different.”
“So, if you aren’t from earth, how did you get here?”
Sauron pondered a moment on what to say.
“I don’t know, actually. One moment I was minding my business, the next moment I was falling rather quickly out of the sky here.”
“Usually I would say such a thing is completely impossible, Mr Sauron… I’m not a nonsensical witch, you know, not like some people here in Ottery-St-Catchpole… But given what has happened I think I have no choice but to believe you. I see no better explanation anyway.”
“Thank you.”
He was tired and confused, and he really didn’t want to spend energy on convincing a hobbit-like overbearing she-wizard that he really was a being from another world. That she believed him just like that was worth being grateful for.
“You sound awfully tired, Mr Sauron. Do you want to eat something? I’m afraid your arrival smashed our dinner, but there’s loads left in the kitchen still!”
Molly was really very Hobbit-like... Just thinking about Hobbits and their manners and their ridiculous obsession with everything edible made his anger come up again. He really, really hated Hobbits and whoever had come up with the idea of them deserved to be thrown into the Void, chained to a Balrog. Frodo Baggins. The name alone made him want to scream in frustration. He muttered some very foul things in Black Speech under his breath, forgetting his conversation with Molly and staring at his missing ring finger. Of course they hadn’t given him 10 fingers. They wouldn’t let him forget his defeat a single time. His Ring… He clenched his fists as the anger came up. Then Molly’s voice broke through his thoughts, and the rage faded again.
“Are you all right, Mr Sauron? Your eyes just did something strange.”
He blinked a couple times and looked slightly confused at the woman.
“Oh? Did they? I… Well, actually I wouldn’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve seen myself.”
A while since there was anything to be seen as well, but again, that he didn’t tell Molly. 
“Do you want a mirror? Don’t worry, I’m sure I have a mirror here somewhere…” 
In no time she was ruffling through drawers and boxes, until she found a somewhat feminine looking handheld mirror. “Here you go!”
And so he got to see his face for the first time in a while. It was quite a shock. It looked a lot like his appearance in the First Age, with long black hair –however awfully tangled- and golden-brown eyes… but he looked far younger than ever before. Maiar didn’t know childhood; he had been created in an adult form right away. This body didn’t look like it was a lot older than 20 years of Men, and Sauron couldn’t figure out whether he liked that or not.  He stared at his reflection with unhidden fascination, completely forgetting Molly…

Molly Weasley was a no-nonsense woman. She had to be, as being in charge of a family like the Weasley’s required a lot of pragmatism. All the pragmatism in the world however didn’t tell her what to do with the mysterious guest from another dimension who was currently observing his own face as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever laid eyes on. She had thousands of things she wanted to ask him, but the man looked as if he hadn’t seen a bed in days and her motherly side reprimanded her for keeping him up like that. 
“You should really rest a bit, you look like you’re absolutely exhausted. I’ll make you a bed in no time. Do you mind sharing a room with Ginny? Normally I’d make you share with Bill, but I think Ron will sleep there because you damaged his room too much.”
“Err…”
Molly was already climbing the stairs, expecting him to follow her apparently. Wincing at the painful protest of his body, he got up. Meanwhile, the woman hadn’t stopped talking. 
“Ginny is coming home in an hour or two, I think. She went to visit her friend Luna. I’m sure she won’t mind sharing her room; she had to do so often enough. We have visitors a lot you see, although most of them use the front door, or the floo, perhaps.”
Sauron tuned her out. He didn’t know what a floo was, or who Ginny was, and he certainly didn’t care about her friend Luna, or the fact she had to share her room with visitors often. His surroundings alone were confusing enough just like that… The room belonging to Ginny was filled with strange moving pictures of women in bizarre garbs who apparently flew around on… brooms. One mystery solved, in this world flying cleaning appliances were apparently a normal mode of transport. He was so tired and overwhelmed he didn’t even wonder about how the pictures were able to move before his eyes. Molly apparently noticed his state, because she said,
“Just use Ginny’s bed for now, Mr Sauron. I’ll see that you get a bed of your own tonight.”
She didn’t have to say that twice. Molly had only just left the room or he dropped himself on the –surprisingly comfortable- bed. Perhaps if he slept a bit the whole situation would clear itself up and turn out okay. He doubted it –situations he was involved in rarely ever turned out okay for him- but it didn’t hurt to hope, did it?

AUTHOR'S APOLOGIES
Normally I would call this part "Author's Notes", but I feel I need to apologize to both Harry Potter and LoTR fans for this. Please don't flame me. I am more familiar with the HP Universe as a story setting, but I like to think that I know enough of LoTR characters too to make this work. Nevertheless, it's going to be AU. Here are some comments I felt I had to make.
A) The scenes at the Quidditch World Cup do not take place in this story and aren't mentioned either. This is because the summer months before Hogwarts will focus mostly on Sauron getting used to living with the Weasleys.
B) As this is a fanfiction, not all characters will have the same kind of motives as they have in the actual books/movies. I try not to make it too blatant and I don't think it's all that disruptive to the storyline.
C) This is NOT, I repeat, NOT a Sauron/Ginny romance. That would just be... pedophiliac, I'm afraid. There will be romance though, eventually.
D) Sauron is either very, or a bit OOC, depending on what you generally think of him. It has its reasons; in this story we take it that Sauron spent a 100 years in the Void, and... well, it has racked his brain a bit. Understandable, no? Not to mention that he finds himself in a completely unknown world. He's still highly intelligent, powerful, manipulative, strategic... you know, the usual things. You will find however that he has developed a little OCD, that he can be ridiculously childish, and that he isn't as "purely evil" as he' sometimes portrayed. Oh, and he has a bit of a temper problem, and can't control his Maia powers properly for some reason (although he still has them). 
E) On the language spell Bill used: more explanation will follow in a later chapter. Just take it now that they understand each other.


Chapter 2 - The Unfortunate Bombing Incident

Chapter 2.
In which Ginny is curious, Fred and George make a bomb, and Sauron just wants to be left alone.

Ginny came home to a complete mess... The Burrow was always messy, but this was simply complete destruction. She looked up with raised eyebrows. There was actually a hole in the house? Fred and George must have really gone too far this time… She heard her family, but didn’t see them.
“Mom? Dad? Where are you?”
“They’re upstairs, trying to ward the roof against the rain I think.”
Ron was sitting on the couch, and Ginny opened her mouth in surprise.
“What happened? Did Fred and George do something? What did they do?”
Ron shook his head with a disbelieving grin. 
“You won’t believe it, but a naked dude fell straight through the house, right through our dinner table, and he barely had a scratch. He spoke some totally wacky language but Bill knew a translation spell for that. Oh, and apparently he’s from another dimension, or something. He’s also sleeping in your bed at the moment.”
Ginny frowned at her brother.
“Ron, it’s not funny!”
“I told you that you wouldn’t believe it! It’s true though. Mom had a bit of an interrogation session with him and we were all listening in through the hole, and that’s what he said, more or less. And he’s really sleeping in your bedroom, go check if you want to!”
Ginny ran to her room and threw the door open. She couldn’t wait to have a reason to throw something at her annoyi… there was someone in her bed. There. Was. Someone. In. Her. Bed. She considered the possibility that Ron had spoken the truth after all. It was unlikely, but hey, there was someone in her bed, and there was a hole in the house, so maybe it wasn’t entirely impossible. Carefully she approached the sleeping figure. He was somewhat curled up, and under a mop of thick black hair Ginny discerned a handsome but rather tormented looking face. He really looked as if he was most uncomfortable… She just wanted to step back when her eyes were drawn to the mysterious man’s ear. It was pointy. Okay, so maybe Ron was telling the truth. She had never before seen anyone with ears like that… Instead of leaving the room, she went to sit on her desk chair and observed the sleeping man. After all, how many times did you find a guy from another dimension in your bed?

The Weasley household was loud, but Sauron was exhausted enough to sleep in the middle of the ruckus… for a couple hours. His dreams were chaotic and filled with fire and pain and other unpleasant commodities, but it was rest, of some sort. Only when he relived being cast through the Door of Night and falling into the Void, he woke up with a start, a harsh curse escaping his lips. 
Ginny had been watching the fitful sleep of the mystery visitor for a while already, when suddenly he shot up and yelled something foreign and quite possibly unpleasant, a haunted look in his eyes. He looked a bit like a threatened animal, she thought. The he caught sight of her, and the haunted-ness made place for suspicion and calculation. 
“You must be Ginny.”
He had a melodious voice with an accent she couldn’t place, and under his scrutiny Ginny suddenly didn’t know what to say. 
“Err… Yeah. I’m Ginny. Who are you?”
“Sauron.”

It was bizarre to use that name and not see terror and fear in people’s eyes, Sauron thought. He wasn’t sure he liked it. The female named Ginny was young, although looks could be deceiving (he only needed a mirror to know that) and he had no idea of the longevity of these creatures. She stared at him with both curiosity and slight apprehension, and suddenly she blurted out,
“Ron said you’re from another dimension.”
“Another… dimension…” He hesitated a moment. “I suppose you could call it that.”
Now her eyes widened. 
“Oh… So it’s true.”
“Yes.”
The girl obviously didn’t really know what to say. 
“Are… Are things very different in your world?”
What sort of question as that? Of course things were different! He was completely at loss with about three quarters of all things he had seen and heard of so far, and the things he did recognize were so warped that for all he knew they might have completely different purposes. He hadn’t forgotten about the brooms… The irritation must be clear on his face, because Ginny looked a bit taken aback. 
“I’m sorry if I offended you or something. I’m just curious. Are you a wizard?”
There was a strange and not entirely unamusing irony in the fact they kept asking him that. He slowly shook his head.
“It’s difficult to explain. In my world “Wizard” is a title, a… job occupation of sorts. I am not a wizard among those terms. I am however of the same… species… as Wizards are. We are called Maiar.”
“So… you can use magic?”
“I could. I don’t know whether I can in this form. It’s new to me.”
The girl looked very excited now.
“You mean you can shift shapes, like an animagus?”
“What is an… animagus?”
“A wizard who can change himself into an animal.”
“Not… really.” Sauron remembered his animal transformations rather well… They also reminded him of another painful defeat. In a moment of dramatics he wondered if there was there anything left in the world that didn’t somehow remind him of a painful defeat… He cleared his throat and said,
“It doesn’t always happen entirely voluntary, and not all my forms have the same qualities. I don’t always choose how I come to look.”
This time he had gotten lucky concerning appearance… He hadn’t thought that after Númenor he would ever get his good looks back… Not that looks were very important if you had power, but here in this unknown world not looking like a giant flaming eyeball was definitely a plus. Ginny was obviously confused. Good, Sauron thought, now I’m not the only one who’s puzzled anymore. 
“So, you’re a Maiar?”
“Maia. Maiar is the plural.”
“Oh. Right. What species live on your world?”
“Many. Too many to explain.”
He didn’t feel like talking about the species of Middle-Earth, because that would undoubtedly bring him on the subject of the Valar, or Eru forbid, Hobbits. The unexplainable anger was coming up again and he gritted his teeth… 
“Your eyes become red when you’re angry. You’re angry, no?”
Sauron looked at Ginny and frowned. Such a telltale sign was no good; he had always liked to keep a stoic façade despite inner rage. 
“Yes. Let’s just say that not all species of my world are equally agreeable. I would prefer not to speak about them.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry. Here the species thing isn’t really complicated. We have Muggles, those are people who can’t do magic, and Wizards, those are the people who can. And there are other creatures as well, like Merpeople, Centaurs, Goblins and House Elves and so on, but they’re not that important.”
“House Elves?”
“Really friendly little creatures who like to do house work and often work for a family to keep their house clean. Only very rich families have them though, and they’re often not treated very well, a bit like slaves actually…”
Sauron tried to picture Elves doing housework. Elrond in an apron, trying to clean the halls of Barad-dûr. It was a ridiculous notion… slightly amusing as well.
“How is your world ruled?”
He wanted to strangle Ginny, all of a sudden. His world should be ruled by him, would be ruled by him if not for those Hobbits! 
“I do not want to talk about it. Speaking of my world brings back unpleasant memories.”
“Oh… sorry again. I’m just curious, I don’t mean to offend.”
Sauron nodded and hoped she would leave. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to learn more about this new world, he did, but at the moment he required solitude. The little sleep he had gotten had helped against the worst exhaustion, but hadn’t done anything for the general state of his mind. His head was a complete chaos and he didn’t want to be around anyone until he had his thoughts under control again…

Ginny decided that if Sauron’s eyes only flamed red when he got angry, the guy definitely had an anger issue going on. They had barely spoken and he had already thrown her more than once a truly murderous look! She found him fascinating… 
“You know; if you’ve slept enough you should meet the rest of the family.”
“How large is this family of yours?”
“Well, there’s me, I’m the youngest, and then Ron, Fred and George, Percy, Charlie and Bill. And our parents of course. Charlie isn’t here, he’s breeding and taming dragons in Romania.”
She couldn’t quite read the man’s expression. It was a mix of surprise, despair, and the face you make when you smell something disgusting. Apparently he didn’t exactly look forward to meeting her family… Trying not to feel insulted, Ginny said,
“You don’t have to meet them now, you know. If you’re still tired introductions surely can wait.”

Sauron wanted to moan… Nine red-haired, loud, chatty and Hobbit-like wizards in one rather small house? What a nightmare… Although one of them was apparently out taming dragons. He wondered whether dragons here were anything like dragons in Middle-Earth, but doubted it; somehow he couldn’t really imagine one of the scrawny red-haired wizards taming a creature like Glaurung… He broke from his musings and addressed Ginny.
“I would like to rest a little longer.”
“Sure, no problem. I’ll be off.”
And then, finally, Ginny left the room. Sauron lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, where a woman on a broom flew around in a large picture. He listened to the noises outside the room, and wondered how long his reprieve from these people would last… 

The reprieve didn’t last long, as was to be expected. You couldn’t really fall into someone’s house, say you were coming from another world and then expect to be ignored completely until you’d pulled your mind together again… Even though Sauron thought that a decade of non-Void-like solitude would probably do his messed up brain some good. Instead he got to meet the entire Weasley family, and they all wanted to know countless inane details about Middle-Earth, from food and sports to job opportunities and clothing. They were practically always around him, and when they did leave him alone for a moment there was always something or someone making a lot of noise to spoil the silence. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the house –or Burrow, as they called it- was dirty. Cluttered. Messy. Chaotic. Any adjective that described a state of complete disorder would do, and it irked him to no end. 
Perhaps he was being ungrateful, after all he was out of the Void and back in a rather attractive body… but Sauron was slowly starting to think that this whole situation was just another punishment the Valar had thought out for him. He wouldn’t put it past Námo to come up with something like this… Everything was strange and unusual here, from their food to their brand of magic, and he couldn’t even go to the toilet without being baffled by how they did things here. Most of the time he felt so confused that he couldn’t sleep. The messiness of the house only made everything worse…
Most people wouldn’t associate the likes of Sauron with orderliness, but they were wrong there. He was an organizational freak; nitpicking over details and making sure every single tiny microscopic little thing went according to plan was simply in his nature. Those skills had always served him well while planning for world domination... 
He didn’t care about esthetics too much, that was true, but he was partial to order and neatness. Sauron liked it when there was a plan. Preferably his plan, but on some occasions any plan would do. Living in the Burrow, which was inside and out a place without a plan, was even more of a nightmare than the Weasley family itself… 
It didn’t take long (only a week) before it got on his nerves too much and he decided to do something about it. Not being able to sleep, being surrounded by noise all the time and being cooped up in a small messy space with too many people had its effects after all, even on immortal Dark Lords… He began in Ginny’s room; removing all the clutter from her floor, putting her clothes in the laundry basket, making her bed, placing all the papers on her desk in neat heaps, hanging all her posters straight, and ordering all the books in her bookcase according to the cover’s color. He disliked the room, he disliked how cheery and light it was, but when it was orderly, being there was less unbearable. 
From Ginny’s room he went to the only other rooms he used in the house, the living and dining room. While the boys were upstairs, Arthur outside, Ginny at her friend’s place and Molly in the kitchen, Sauron cleaned the house. He tried not to think about the humiliation of that, right now being in an orderly place was worth it. He didn’t come close to tackling all of the clutter, but after three hours of shifting through stuff he had no idea what it was for, the living room looked less like a bomb had exploded there. Given its previous state, that was almost worth a little pride. Almost.  
Unfortunately, Sauron had no idea that right above his head two redheads were actually working on a bomb. Technically it was just a potion for one of their joke products… until George decided to add a little too much erumpent horn powder to it. Sauron had just finished cleaning and was admiring his work when he heard yelling above him. 
“WATCH OUT! IT’S GOING TO EXPLODE!”
Before he knew it, something that looked suspiciously much like one of Saruman’s explosive devices tumbled through the hole in the ceiling. He jumped away behind the couch, right in time because the thing exploded and sent a magical shockwave through the ground floor, messing up everything including the shelves Sauron had so diligently sorted out. When he got up from his hiding place and saw what had been done, his already frayed nerves decided to short-circuit. A string of extremely foul expletives in Black Speech left his mouth at a volume that could contest with the Weasley Family as a whole. In a way it was worse than his punishment after losing Tol Sirion, it was worse than Númenor… Perhaps it was even worse than the Void. It was the ultimate proof that whatever he did, be it trying to rule a world or trying to clean a living room, there would always be something or someone thwarting his plans. He wasn’t allowed even a single success; no matter what he undertook it would fail per definition. At that point, Sauron decided that there was nothing, nothing at all in the entire universe that he hated more than his own life. 

(Author's Apologies)

Are you feeling sorry for Sauron already? You should. We see here the first demonstration of his Void-induced unhingedness... Let's just say that being around nothing at all for a hundred years has made dear Sauron a bit oversensitive to clutter. And mind you, there's a lot of clutter in the Weasley household. Also, Sauron screaming in Black Speech is no good. No good at all, really. 
Advice, Critics and Comments are always welcomed!


Chapter 3 - Lightning strikes and Sauron laments on his life.

Chapter 3. 
In which lightning strikes, Sauron laments on his life, and Ginny displays unexpected maturity.

Ginny was fascinated with her otherworldly roommate. He never said much, and when he did say something he sounded bored, confused, or irritated. The robes Bill had borrowed him looked as alien on him as bridesmaid dresses would on Crabbe and Goyle, and he himself also seemed rather out of place in the Weasley household. They had gotten used to his gloomy presence over the week, a bit like they had gotten used to the hole in the house. It was there, and it was a bit impractical, but it was also interesting, and… well, there was not much to do about it anyway. 
Sauron was quite possibly the most mysterious person Ginny had ever met… It was just a hunch, but she had the feeling he was also one of the grumpiest people she had ever met, this including Snape. Something about him just appeared to scream “I Don’t Like You”, no matter what or whom it was that he pointed his eyes at. Ginny deducted that there was simply very little that Sauron liked. It made her wonder about his world… Was theirs so foreign to him that he just wasn’t capable of appreciating anything in it? Ginny shook her head. She knew the guy for a week and she was already drawing conclusions about him, ridiculous. He hadn’t seen anything of their world except for the Burrow; maybe he just wasn’t partial to redheads and messiness.
When she walked home from Lovegood house, she immediately noticed something was very wrong at the Burrow… Dark, stormy clouds hung above the house, like a thick black disk in the middle of a clear blue sky. She started to run, and just as she pulled open the front door, lightning struck into the house, straight through the hole in the ceiling, right into the small crater where Sauron had crashed. Standing in the door opening, she watched the inside of the house with open mouth. It appeared an explosion had taken place there, and guessing from the remnants of a molten cauldron she would say the culprits were the Twins. The real surprise however was Sauron. He was standing in the middle of the destroyed living room with his hands in his hair, repeating over and over a phrase in that harsh, tongue-twisting langue of his. 
“Err… What happened here?”
No one answered, even the twins had been struck silent and the Burrow was eerily quiet apart from Sauron’s mutterings. Since no one was reacting, Ginny decided to do something bold. She got in and took Sauron by the arm, sort of dragging him outside and then forcing him to sit down on the grass in the backyard. She just sat next to him until the attack of whatever-the-hell-that-was had passed. It didn’t take long, about five minutes later she heard him sigh and utter dramatically,
“I hate my life.”
Ginny suspected that that was what he had been saying all the time, only now she could understand it. She wondered why the translation spell had malfunctioned at first… She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Why?”
“Nothing I want ever happens the way I want it, if it happens at all.”
He said it dejectedly, as if he didn’t care, but Ginny knew better. You didn’t cause a lightning strike when you didn’t care.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Right.”
They were silent for a while. 

Sauron was… ashamed. Not only had he voluntarily done something as humiliating and servile as cleaning, he had gotten a breakdown over a simple, tiny explosion. He was pretty sure that never in his long life he had fallen so awfully low. And now he sat here, next to the redhaired girl he shared a room with, and he had no idea what to do or say. Usually he had a plan, and a backup plan, and a second backup plan for when the previous one failed, but now he was completely clueless.  The Valar had chosen a terrific punishment, he thought, they had successfully combined everything he hated in the universe and thrown him in the middle of it. It was pretty sickening.
“You know, this whole thing proves at least one thing.”
Ginny remarked. He raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“You’re definitely a wizard. I mean; that was quite a bit of accidental magic.”
Accidental magic. Sauron looked at the now dissolving black cloud above the house and decided that it was a rather accurate description of it. Perhaps it was positive that he wasn’t completely without powers in this world, and he should be more content about that… but if it took him a nervous breakdown to access them, they weren’t very practical. Not to mention that he could hardly try to exert power in a world he knew nothing about. With all the strangeness he had encountered so far, he estimated that it would take him about a decade to get used to everything. It was depressing…
“You’re really a mess, aren’t you?”
It was surprisingly honest, coming from a mere child. By now he had realized that these people had about the same kind of lifespan as Hobbits –again, those horrid creatures- and that Ginny had truly only lived about fourteen years of Men. Her lifespan was barely the blink of an eye compared to his, and yet she dared to be so frank with him…
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Do you miss your home world?”
“No.”
“Really not?”
What was there to miss? The Void? He definitely didn’t miss that. Maybe… maybe he missed Barad-dûr, a bit. He had always liked his citadel... But in general, he mostly missed understanding the workings of the world around him. 
“I don’t miss my home world, specifically. I miss being in a world that I know.”
Again, they were silent for a while. Finally Ginny said,
“Perhaps we haven’t been very considerate with you. We haven’t really explained anything to you, have we?”
“You have mostly asked a lot of annoying questions.”
“Yeah, and meanwhile we let you figure out yourself how to flush the toilet.”
Another low in his career, that one. The bizarre, apparently flushable latrine had been puzzling to the point where he had spied on one of the other redheads to find out how to use it. Apparently he had been less inconspicuous than he had thought at the time… 
Ginny chuckled.
“I think none of us realized how different your world really is. But it really is completely different, no?”
“We don’t have toilets that flush. Your food is very different too, as are your clothes. Your house is filled with things I don’t know the function of…”
And it successfully combines the disorderliness of an Orc encampment with the crammed cheeriness of a hobbit house, Sauron mentally added.
“What was your house like?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Sometimes it helps to talk about things, you know.”
He sighed. He had spent a lot of anger already; he supposed he would be capable of telling the she-wizard about Barad-dûr without causing another lightning strike…
“I lived in the highest citadel of Middle-Earth. From the top of the tallest tower I could look out over the whole world if I wanted to.”
Ginny appeared to be very impressed.
“Wow. That’s… I can see why you don’t feel comfortable in the Burrow...”
“Yes. Your house is very small in comparison.”
“Our house is very small in comparison to almost anything, you don’t have to tell me… It’s home to me, but… well yeah, it’s small. Did you have a family living with you?”
“No. Only lots of servants and slaves.”
And an enormous army, but once again he didn’t say that out loud.
“Oh. Right. What did you do, back in your home world?”
Yeah, what did he do? Trying to conquer everything in sight, mostly. He didn’t suppose he could tell that to Ginny. She probably already suspected he hadn’t been the most innocent individual back on Middle-Earth...
“I… have done multiple things. I have been the adviser of a king. I governed my own region, for a while. I… worked as a smith too, some time.”
Ginny seemed both awed and suspicious.
“You’re very young to have done all that.”
“I am older than I look.”
“How old are you actually?”
Good question. Sauron had to admit he didn’t know; he had lived in the Timeless Halls before the creation of Arda, and it was rather hard to measure time in a place where time didn’t exist. 
“I don’t know exactly. I am very old.”
“Hmm… Old as in… middle aged? Or old as in elderly, more than a hundred?
“More than a hundred, definitely.”
Far, far more than that. He was as old as the world he had wanted to rule, at least a couple thousand years. The redhead next to him observed him.
“Well, you don’t look it.”
“I suppose that is a good thing.”
Ginny smiled.
“ Yeah, it is. So… of all the things you’ve done… what was your favorite job?”
Urgh, and they were back to the inane questions. 
“I have none.”
“I’m sorry, I’m asking stupid questions again, no?”
“Yes, you are. As I believe I’ve told you before, I don’t like to talk about my home world because it holds many bad memories.”
“I’m not asking to annoy you, you know. I’m just trying to understand what your world is like, so that we could make things a little easier for you here.”
Sauron decided that perhaps the strangest thing in this new world was the way they treated him. Never, not once, had he been spoken to like this little wizard girl spoke to him. It was… he suddenly realized she spoke to him as if they were equals. Not commanding, not submissive, just equals. It was very presumptuous of her… 
“Do you have books about your culture? I learn better from the written word.”
“Would you be able to read them?”
“Does your magic work on books as well?”
“I should ask Bill about that…”

Meanwhile in the Burrow, an impromptu family meeting had been called together. Topic of the day: Sauron. 
“That guy is a serious heap of crazy.”
“He fell through the roof, I think it was to be expected that he wouldn’t be entirely normal…”
“Does he really have to live here? I mean he always stares at us as if we’ve kicked his kitten! Shouldn’t he try to be a little nicer with all we’ve done for him?”
“Boys, be nice. He comes from another world, it’s not like he can help that. This is probably just awfully confusing for him.”
“You really believe that? Maybe he escaped from St Mungo’s.”
“Yeah, and all St Mungo’s patients can make lightning strike when they’re angry. Not to mention falling through a house and surviving without a scratch. Besides, have you seen his ears?”
“Fine, so he’s from another world, or dimension, whatever. But he destroys our house!”
“It wasn’t on purpose…”
“And what about the lightning?”
“Fred and George scared the bejesus out of him with that exploding cauldron. How would you react if someone threw a bomb at you, you think?”
“He didn’t have a wand or anything… I wonder how he did it.”
“Strange alien magic…”
“Maybe just accidental magic? Perhaps he’s a wizard who never got a wand… I’ve heard that when you get older, accidental magic bursts become less, but when you do have one it’s usually really big and only when your life is threatened.”
“His life wasn’t threatened…”
“…it was just a little explosion!”
“For all we know he had never seen something like that! Didn’t you think it terribly rude to throw an explosive potion at a guest? Did I truly fail to raise you two? I am disappointed, in all of you! Ginny is the only one who has treated that poor man with a little respect!”
“Where is she, by the way?”
“Outside, with him. Probably trying to talk some sense into him.”
“That’s my daughter. At least one of my children knows how to behave herself!”
“So… what are we going to do about him?”
“Technically I have to alert the Ministry about him… But it’s possible that in that case the Unspeakables will come and get him for research.”
“He is definitely not a research subject! You can’t do that Arthur, I will not allow it!”
“Molly, he can’t just stay here, can he? In time Ginny will probably want her room back, and what when they go back to Hogwarts? It’s not as if he can come with them now, is it?”
“Maybe he should go with them. Dumbledore would probably know what to do… He might even help him to get back to his home.”
They all considered the possibility. If anyone would know what to do about their uninvited guest, it would be Dumbledore… And deep down no one –not even Ron- wanted to hand Sauron over to the Unspeakables, who would do Merlin knew what to him. Eventually Arthur said,
“I will write a letter to Dumbledore.”
“Good. And until we know Dumbledore’s answer, no one bothers Sauron, okay? Try to behave yourself and don’t blow up the living room, or anything else for that matter!”
With Molly’s warning, the decision was made… Sauron could stay. For now.

Bill didn’t know a good reading translation spell, but he did know a voice-spell for blind people that literally read the texts out loud. And so Sauron started his studies. He began with Ginny’s History Of Magic textbook, and Ginny found that it was surprisingly educational to listen to when told in another voice than Binns’. She often watched Sauron as he listened to the strange voice reading the books out loud and made notes in a bizarre alphabet. He looked terribly serious and concentrated, and eventually it took Ginny four chapters of Goblin Revolutions and the first part of the Witch Burnings before she had gathered the courage to ask him about it.
“Err… Sauron?”
He closed the book to stop the voice from reading further, and looked up, a little annoyed.
“Yes?”
“I know you hate questions but… what language is that you are writing?”
Unexpectedly, Sauron did not give her the usual “I Don’t Want To Talk About It” answer.
“The language is the Black Speech of Mordor. The script is called Tengwar.”
“Black Speech… is that the language of your home world?”
“Not my whole home world. Only Mordor, my land. There are other languages that are more common, like Quenya, Sindarin or Westron.”
He seemed a bit lost in thought for a moment, then he gave her his “Are You Done Yet” look.
“So, is your curiosity satisfied? I would like to continue studying.”
“Yeah, sure.”
He opened his book again and ignored her further. Ginny stayed in the room, listening to the escapades of the Spanish Inquisition and the various witches and wizards that burned at the stake or ultimately escaped their fate. It was almost cozy. Almost, because she didn’t think any room that was so clean could be considered cozy. She had done the test and misplaced a couple books on her shelf; next time she checked, they were back in their color-coded order. Mentally she had added “order” to the small list of things that Sauron liked, obsessively so even. Which was a bit of a problem in the Weasley household. In any other situation she would have rebelled against his obsessive-compulsive tidiness by making a complete mess… but in a moment of maturity she decided to grant Sauron his refuge from the disorder in the rest of the Burrow. It was difficult enough for him already. 

(Author's Apologies)
All cheer for Ginny, and the diplomatic gifts the rest of her family lacks!
Also, a job description for Sauron: harder than you think. xD
Comments and critics and questions are always welcomed!


Chapter 4 - Quidditch is war, a Bludger makes a detour, and Ginny learns the Three D's

Chapter 4.
In which Quidditch is war, a Bludger makes a detour, and Ginny learns the Three D's

The more books Sauron “read” -listened to was a better description- the less bad company he was. The gloom-and-doom aura that permanently hung around him didn’t disappear, but it seemed that now the workings of their world were becoming clear to him, he managed to be courteous at least. Molly’s warning had helped a lot with that; the flood of random questions about Middle-Earth had finally subsided and that did a lot for his mood. Also, now the basic things (central heating, running water, the workings of the toilet) had been figured out, he was starting to ask questions himself.
“Ginny.”
He didn’t ask for her, he just said her name and expected her to listen. Ginny found it a little comical. 
“Yes, Sauron?”
“The women on your moving pictures… They appear to be engaging in some kind of game. What is it?”
Ginny grinned. Finally, he was showing interest in something she liked!
“They’re playing Quidditch. It’s my favorite team, the Holyhead Harpies.”
“Qui-ditch?”
“Quidditch. There’s two teams of seven people, respectively three Chasers, two Beaters, one Keeper and one Seeker, and the game involves four balls: a Quaffle, two Bludgers and a Golden Snitch.”
“How does it work?”
“Well… There are three Goalposts at each end of the pitch; those are large pylons with a hoop on top. The Chasers have to try and toss the Quaffle through the hoops of the other team, each time they do that their own team gets 10 points. The Bludgers have a bit of a will of their own; they attack the players. The Beaters have a bat with which they keep the Bludgers away from their own team and try to knock them in the direction of the other team. And then there is the Golden Snitch, it’s a tiny golden flying ball and the Seeker has to try and catch it. When the Snitch is caught the game ends, and the team whose Seeker caught the thing gets 150 extra points.”
“I suppose the goal of this game is to gain the most points?”
“Yep. It’s awesome. We have a Quidditch pitch here in Ottery-Saint-Catchpole, sometimes we meet with other people for a couple friendly games.”
“Friendly games? Are these games usually unfriendly then?”
Ginny grinned wider as she had been hoping he would ask something like that. 
“When it’s taken serious, Sauron… Quidditch is war. I think the best example of that would be the game between Flanders and Transylvania in the World Cup of 1473.”
“Oh?”
“All seven hundred Quidditch fouls were committed, including transfiguring a Chaser into a polecat, trying to decapitate a Keeper with a broadsword, attacking an opponent with an axe, setting fire to the opponents’ broomtails and releasing bloodsucking vampire bats on the other team.”
“I see how that can be interpreted as unfriendly.”

Quidditch sounded… surprisingly much like war, indeed. The presence of broadswords and axes in the game was somewhat reassuring on that plane; at least he knew his way around those. It would be interesting to engage in one of these games… Sauron mentally shook his head. When was the last time he had ever engaged in any type of game? It just wasn’t done when you were the aspiring ruler of a world. But then… he wasn’t on Middle-Earth anymore. It was obvious that here grown men and women played this Quidditch thing, and as he had learned on Númenor engaging in local culture was a perfect way to gain popularity. Back then he had bitten his teeth –he hated water and the most beloved pastime of Númenoreans was apparently sailing- but this game sounded like something he might find a bit of satisfaction in…
“Would it be possible for me to learn this game?”
He hadn’t estimated the girl wrongly. She seemed very enthusiastic about his question.
“Duh! We’re meeting the Lovegoods, Fawcetts and Diggorys for a game in a couple days. We’re not a full team, but that’s okay because the other families don’t manage to make a full team either. I bet you’ll love it!”
“We’ll see.”

The Quidditch game day arrived, and the Weasley family gathered equipment and made its way to the town’s Quidditch pitch. There Sauron got to see the first other wizards that weren’t Weasley redheads. Two blonde and strangely dressed individuals got introduced as Xenophilus and Luna Lovegood. Sauron didn’t know much of the clothing of this world, but somehow their colorful getup struck him as unusual. Luna –a girl Ginny’s age- observed him bulging blue eyes, and eventually said.
“So you are Sauron… Ginny talks a lot about you.”
“I was not aware of that.”
“Oh, she only says good things.” She cocked her head to the side and mysteriously said, “Quite a change from what you’re used to, no?”
For a moment there, Sauron was confused. She couldn’t possibly know about his life on Middle-Earth, could she? Then he realized she had simply been talking about how this world must be very different from his home world. He curtly nodded.
“Yes it is.”
She smiled dreamily at him, her head still cocked to the side.
“Good things happen when you’re open to it.”
Eru, she was unnerving! He wasn’t easily unnerved, but this girl was just too odd. There was no physical likeness, but the way she spoke in riddles reminded him a bit too much of a certain Elven queen for his taste. They stood awkwardly together in silence, until Xenophilus called for her and she walked away without saying anything else. For the first time since his arrival Sauron was grateful he had ended up with the Weasleys… Things could definitely have been worse. 
The other players arrived as well, and Sauron got to meet Cedric Diggory and his father, and the entire Fawcett family. The two teams agreed to play two games in total. For in-between the games, all families had brought picnic baskets. Sauron just got to sit back and watch the game, together with the other non-playing people.
He watched the game with the eye of a warlord, and immediately saw the holes in the team’s strategies. Or better, the strategy among the holes, because it didn’t seem as if any team had put a lot of thought in it. Slowly yet steadily he felt his annoyance rise. Each team had obviously strengths and weaknesses, but they did no effort at all to make use of those! With clenched fists he watched how the Weasley’s lost the first game because Fred got a bludger against his shoulder, Ron was too slow around the goalposts and Arthur was too clumsy a Chaser. It was downright frustrating!

When Ginny landed and caught sight of Sauron’s deeply annoyed expression and slightly orange eyes, she knew something must have happened, somehow. 
“Hey, did you like the game?”
He frowned at her.
“Like it? You were terrible! The lot of you!”
A little insulted, Ginny asked,
“What? What do you mean?”
Sauron sighed deeply and dropped his head in his hands. 
“Strategy, Ginny. You had no strategy, at all!”
“It’s just a friendly game…”
“When you go to war, you fight to win! Loss is possible, but you must do all that is within your might to avoid it!”
 Ginny suddenly wondered whether comparing Quidditch to war had been such a good idea… She set her hands in her sides and cockily said.
“If you know it so much better, then tell me what we must do to win.”
“If you gather the others, I’ll explain.”
That was an unexpected answer. Not knowing what else to do, Ginny called the rest of her family together and told them Sauron had something to say. That sparked everyone’s curiosity, and soon the baskets of food were forgotten and the Weasley’s gathered around him. He repeated the statement he had made to Ginny, gaining everyone’s indignation.
“What? We’re not that bad!”
“We are definitely not bad at…”
“…this, we are the Gryffindor Beaters!”
“What do you know about this? Ginny said you’d never heard of Quidditch before!”
Sauron took a deep breath and explained.
“Fred, George, from what I understood Beaters are supposed to distract the other team. Playing a Bludger from one Beater to the other is not distracting the other team, not to mention that there are two Bludgers and you were watching only one, resulting in shoulder injury. It’s perhaps only a friendly game, but that doesn’t make it a playground.”
“Oh…”
“…Right.”
“Arthur, you are not a good Chaser. I’m sorry, but you’re really not good at it.” 
The oldest Weasley smiled a little sheepishly.
“Well… I guess that’s true. My aim isn’t what it was anymore…”
“Ron, you are slow. From what I can tell, you’re not a bad Keeper at all, but those girls on the other team are lightweight and fast. Without focused Beaters…” He looked sternly at Fred and George when saying that, “you stand little chance against them.”
Ginny smirked. This guy was really something special… Never played quidditch, apparently never even seen a flying broom before, and he pointed out all the mistakes in their game after watching them for only thirty minutes! 
“So, what do you suggest we do?”
“We take Arthur out of the game, and Fred takes over from him.”
“Then who will be the second Beater?”
“If you’ll allow me, I’ll give it a try.”
Everyone stared at him with wide eyes. Ginny’s mouth fell open a bit. 
“But… you’ve never flown on a broom before!”
“I’ve flown on plenty of other things in my world, I’m pretty sure I’ll manage this.”
They all hesitated.
“Err… are you sure about this?”
“I am.”
Ginny decided that this was the very first time she saw Sauron being enthusiastic about anything. It was not exactly the cheerful and energetic kind of enthusiasm… but in its own right it was enthusiasm and it felt wrong to deny him. It wasn’t as if falling off a broom would damage him so much, he had survived a fall through the Burrow after all. 
“I say we should let him try.”
Now they all looked at Ginny. Arthur, who looked longingly at the waiting picnic basket, shrugged.
“Well, I suppose you know him best. I’m okay with it.”
After that, the others didn’t see much use in protesting anymore, and Sauron continued his explanation.
“The other team has two big advantages: very fast chasers, and a good Seeker. Their major weakness is their Keeper. She’s too small and obviously unfocussed, it should be easy to sneak the… what was it again…”
“Quaffle.”
“Yes, to sneak the quaffle through a hoop she isn’t watching. They have only one good Beater, so there we should have an advantage too.”
“Right… so it’s mostly a question of distracting Luna and Sarah Fawcett from scoring.”
“Am I right to suspect not all brooms are equally fast?”
“Definitely!”
“Diggory’s broom is far faster than yours, Ginny.”
“I know… So we forget about catching the Snitch?”
“Not at all… What you lack in speed you can make up for in strategy.” A rather evil smile formed on Sauron’s face. “Distraction, Deception and Determination, Ginny.”
Ginny felt a shiver run down her spine. Those words sounded as if he had used them more than once already… but in a much more sinister context…
“I’ll try my best.”
“I may hope so.”

He had three millennia of battle experience. He had flown on dragons. He would not be bested by a piece of cleaning equipment. With a look of solemn determination, he took the gloves and beater’s bat from Fred and eyed the other team. They had no idea what they were in for…
After a short 101 from Ginny, he knew the basics of broom usage. He mounted the thing with caution, but quickly got the feel of it. For a piece of wood it didn’t sit too uncomfortable… He flew a small test round while the others had some snacks, and then the game began. The other team clearly didn’t know what to think of the Weasley’s new player… and they made the mistake of underestimating him. Terrence knocked a Bludger straight his way, probably hoping to destabilize him… Sauron’s grip on the beater’s bat tightened. He had singlehandedly knocked down whole cohorts of Men and Elves at the Battle of Dagorlad; he could easily handle a measly magic ball… With that image in mind he swung the bat and hit the Bludger, knocking it with a remarkably loud bang out of the Quidditch pitch. Out of vision, actually. 
“Merlin’s beard!”
“What the fuck!?”
“He did not just do that… It’s impossible…”
“Where did it go?”
“Bludgers always come back…”
“I can’t even see it anymore!”
They were all distracted, even the Weasleys. Watching out for the other Bludger, he quickly steered his broom to Fred and hissed,
“For Mordor’s sake, make use of the distraction!”
They did. Both Fred and Bill stopped peering at the sky and went after the Quaffle. Meanwhile, George hit the Bludger straight at Sarah Fawcett, making her release the ball. Next thing, the score shifted in favor of the Weasley’s with thirty points. Sauron observed it all, when suddenly he heard next to him,
“Sauron, can you do me a favor?”
That was not something he often heard…
“What?”
“It would be a great help if you could stay somewhere around me. I’m going to distract Cedric when I see the Snitch… but to catch it myself I’ll need some extra propulsion.”
“Wait… what?”
“Hang around and you’ll see!”
Ginny flew off, and Sauron saw how she hovered in the air a bit, waited for Cedric to notice her, and then suddenly took a dive down, as if she had seen something. Having a hunch of what she was up to, he followed her. Close to the ground she suddenly flew right next to him, so close that the foot supports of their brooms locked together. 
“Up, now!”
He didn’t hesitate, and their locked brooms steered upwards, where Sauron indeed saw a small fleck of gold. Cedric followed them, but their two brooms together were faster than his, and when Ginny stretched out her hand she caught the Snitch before him. With the fluttering golden ball in her hand she grinned at Sauron,
“Distraction, Deception, Determination.”
Ginny Weasley was a good student, he decided. 
“Good to see my advices are heeded.”
Cedric interrupted their conversation.
“That was foul play! You’re not allowed to Blurt!”
Ginny grinned widely.
“Not at all, Blurting would be locking brooms with an opponent. Sauron happens to be on my team.”
The older boy frowned at them.
“This was not a fair game.”
Ginny laughed and shrugged.
“Life isn’t fair!”
Ginny was still laughing when she descended, and Sauron couldn’t help but feel… could it be a tiny bit of pride? No, of course not. He pushed it to the back of his mind, but doing that Luna’s words suddenly occurred to him again. 
“Good things happen when you’re open to it.”
Perhaps he was proud. After all, Ginny had used his strategy, and his strategy had won them the game… And that was definitely a good thing. He came down to the ground, and got practically ambushed by the other Weasleys.
“How did you DO that? You knocked a Bludger completely out of the field and the thing didn’t come back!”
“That was a shot worthy of the World Cup, really…”
“Seriously, and you’re saying… 
“… That you’ve never played Quidditch?”
“That was just brilliant, Sauron. Never seen anything like that before!”
Sauron felt he had to blink a few times. Sure, he had received congratulations more than once… but he was quite certain he had never received them so freely for him just being himself. Perhaps Melkor had told him once or twice that he had completed a task well… but usually his deceptive strategies didn’t exactly bring him praise. Not quite knowing what to say, he shrugged.
“I told you we would win this.”
The other team wasn’t so happy, at least Amos and Cedric Diggory weren’t. They kept going on about it being foul play, that what he and Ginny had done was forbidden, and that the Bludger must have been tampered with for Bludgers always came back to the pitch… Sauron almost tuned them out and ignored the twosome, when he suddenly saw something small and black in the distance, quickly approaching. He kept a straight face while the Diggory’s continued arguing, and when the missing Bludger hit Amos Diggory full force in the backside, knocking the man to the ground… all he did was smile mockingly.
“You see no tampering occurred, for even this Bludger returned to the pitch.”
With that he turned his back on them and walked back to the Weasleys, whom were all laughing at the situation. Bill remarked however,
“I don’t think the Diggorys are going to forget this…”
 “That’s all right, I’m used to having enemies.”
And he crushed them, mercilessly. It was too bad no broadswords had been involved in this particular Quidditch game…

(Author's Apologies)

These are apologies, so I apologize hereby for any mistakes I made in the description of the Quidditch game. 
The Teams were:

TEAM A1
Keeper = Ron
Beater 1 = Fred
Beater 2 = George
Chaser 1 = Bill
Chaser 2 = Arthur
Seeker = Ginny

TEAM A2
Keeper = Ron
Beater 1 = Sauron
Beater 2 = George
Chaser 1 = Bill
Chaser 2 = Fred
Seeker = Ginny

TEAM B
Keeper = Lucy Fawcett
Beater 1 = Xenophilus Lovegood
Beater 2 = Terrence Fawcett
Chaser 1 = Luna Lovegood
Chaser 2 = Sarah Fawcett
Seeker = Cedric Diggory

The Fawcetts are a family known to live in Ottery-Saint-Catchpole, but I made up their names. 
Also, I just couldn't resist having Sauron play Beater; he would be SO good at it xD 
Comments, critics, questions, always welcomed!


Chapter 5 - Language Barriers, Strange Wands, and a Hogwarts Letter for Sauron

Chapter 5.
In which there is a language barrier, Sauron gets his Hogwarts Letter, and a strange wand finds an owner.

He had been correct; engaging in local culture was indeed the best way to gain popularity. Sauron found that after the quidditch game the entire Weasley family had decided to like him. Popularity was power, so he didn’t complain… When they got to the Burrow however, something unexpected happened to thwart his mood… as usual. This unexpected something had a long beard and a pointy hat, and it came out of the hearth surrounded by green flames. The first thing it made Sauron think of was enough to make him curse something very ugly under his breath. It couldn’t be Olórin, it just couldn’t be… When the man looked his way, he almost sighed in relief; it wasn’t that particular wretched wizard. It was still a very Istari-like wizard though, and Sauron knew better than to trust those. Even the corruptible ones caused him trouble.
“Albus!”
Molly exclaimed as she saw the man. 
“Ah, Molly… It appears I am just in time. I am sorry I didn’t find the time to come earlier; I had to take care of some things first. Is your husband around?”
“Yes, he is in the garage, putting away our quidditch things… Did you receive our letter?”
“Of course I did. I must say I am very curious after your guest…”
Sauron internally cursed. There you had it. Beards and pointy hats, nothing but trouble. A little later he found himself at the repaired dinner table together with Arthur, Molly and the wizard referred to as Albus. The Weasley children had been sent upstairs, but they were undoubtedly all listening in through the hole in the ceiling.
“I am sorry if this arrives a little sudden, Mr… Sauron, isn’t it?” Sauron nodded, and the wizard continued, “I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts. ”
“The place where Ginny learns her magic.”
“Yes, although not just Ginny; all wizards in the United Kingdom receive their education there.”
“I see.”
Sauron wondered what this was all about… They could hardly expect him to go to school, could they?
“It has come to me that you are a wizard from another world, Mr. Sauron... Can you confirm this?”
He didn’t feel like explaining the difference between Istari in Middle-Earth and wizards here to this unpleasantly inquisitive man, so he just nodded.
“Yes.”
“I have also heard of your rather impressive sample of accidental magic. With such displays of power you risk breaching the Statute of Secrecy, and that could lead to an arrest by the Aurors. I believe you understand what that would mean.”
The history books had covered topics like the Statute of Secrecy and what happened to people who broke it, so he had a bit of an idea. Again he nodded.
“Your hosts were rightfully concerned about this, and I may have a solution to offer you.”
“Oh?”
“To be allowed a wand in the UK, one must follow or have followed magical education. If you would agree to follow lessons at Hogwarts, you would get an allowance for a wand, robes and schoolbooks, next to the education you need to control your magic properly. I believe it would be in your interest to agree to this.”
Sauron eyed him suspiciously, and Dumbledore stared back. His very Olórin-like twinkling eyes seemed to try and push their way into his mind… Sauron pictured the black gates of Mordor and gruffly denied Dumbledore access. If he thought he could try those mind tricks on him, the master deceiver… then he was painfully mistaken.
“What is in it for you?”
The harsh question made Arthur and Molly widen their eyes. Dumbledore just sent him a smile that would have been amiable if not for the suspicion in his eyes. 
“Call it curiosity. After all, it doesn’t happen every day that we have a visitor from another world. I would be honored to welcome you at Hogwarts.”
“You must notice that I am hardly the age anymore to go to school.”
And then “hardly” was a generous euphemism… 
“You wouldn’t be expected to stay in one age group; you would be allowed to follow classes that match your skill level in the different subjects, in combination with private lessons.”
It was a generous offer, that much Sauron knew… and from experience he knew that there was often a hidden motive for generous offers.
“What are the conditions to your offer?”
“You follow the school rules, behave yourself towards the other students… Nothing very strange or unusual, I’d think. As I said, I offer this out of curiosity.”
He didn’t trust it. But then, it wasn’t as if he could refuse, and having a wand like the others would certainly make things easier. What he had read about these people’s magic so far had made him honestly curious…
“Good. I accept.”
“Perfect! All I need is your full name, and then arrangements can be made.”
“My… full… name?”
Sauron was pretty sure that “Sauron” counted as a full name, it wasn’t as if he used abbreviations. 
“Your first and last name.”
Right. Unfortunately he was a Maia and not a Hobbit, and Maiar didn’t do last names. Mentally he went over the entire list of names he had had over the ages, hoping to find at least one that had a last name. No such luck, of course.
“I’m afraid in my world we don’t use last names. Well, some do, but I have never been given one.”
“You are entirely free to make one up, in that case.”
Very well… He decided to go with a combination of his Quenya and Sindarin names.
“Sauron Gorthaur, then.”
“Very good.”
The reactions he received on his name were still both unsettling and amusing; he tended to forget that these people didn’t speak Middle-Earth languages… He didn’t think this Dumbledore would think his name “very good” if he knew what it meant…
“I am afraid I’ll have to cut the visit short now, there is lots to do at Hogwarts for the coming year and I find myself buried in work. A letter with further explanations will arrive soon.”
And with that, the wizard returned to the fireplace and disappeared in green flames again. Molly and Arthur looked at each other and then at Sauron.
“You were… rather rude to Dumbledore…”
“I tend to be careful when people offer me things. I meant no offense.”
“So, you’re going to Hogwarts… Excited?”
He sent Molly a slightly orange-tinged deathglare. No, he was not particularly excited. Not at all.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to retreat to my room.”
He left the Weasley couple at the table, and walked upstairs. As expected, he caught sight of several redheads scurrying away from the hole in the floor when he reached the first floor. Among those was Ginny, who sent him an obnoxious grin when he entered the room.
“So, you’re going to Hogwarts…”
Before she could finish her sentence he grumbled irritated,
“No, I’m not excited.”
Ginny raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t think you would be. I was going to ask if you want to read my copy of “Hogwarts: A History”… Since you like being informed and all.”
“Oh. That would be… helpful.”
“I’ll ask Bill to put the spell on it. By the way, how are you going to make your assignments? None of the professors knows Tengwar, I think… Or Black Speech, for that matter.”
Mentally, Sauron wished all the Valar to the deepest dung-pit of Barad-dûr. He really, really hated his life… Why couldn’t everything be a little less complicated? It wasn’t much to ask for, was it?

“Mok-izg slaium-izub...” (I hate my life)
Ginny recognized that phrase as Sauron’s favorite lament. He hated his life… again.
“It’s not so bad… English really isn’t hard.”
Sauron sent her an angry glare.
“No, really. English is relatively easy to learn. With some books and stuff you’d manage in no time. I could help you, if you’d like.” 
It was clear to her that he wanted to give her a harsh No, followed by something incomprehensible and probably rude. He didn’t, however.
“If you think you can manage that, I wouldn’t oppose to it.”
Seeing that Sauron wasn’t about to have a lightning bolt fry her, Ginny decided to ask something bold. 
“If I teach you English… do you think you could try to teach me this Black Speech of yours?”
He looked rather disbelieving at her.
“You… want to learn Black Speech?”
He put the emphasis on “want” as if it was highly unlikely to want to learn this language.
“Err… yeah. It sounds cool. Complicated, though. I don’t know if I could learn it, but I would like to try.”
“I suppose I can give it a try.”
Internally, Ginny cheered. Usually she wasn’t so excited about learning things, but hey, who wouldn’t want to learn a strange alien language?
“When do we start?”
“I want to finish my book first. We can start tomorrow.”

No one, no one at all, had ever volunteered to learn the Black Speech. Sauron knew well enough that this was a different world, where his name and his language were simply curiosities from a foreign place… but still it was a bit of a shock. Ginny seemed very eager to start, and the next day she had some kind of writing board, a few notebooks, quills, and a couple books with her. 
“What have you brought?”
“Just some things we might need. Bill explained me something about the translation spell, by the way. The person on who it is cast is only understandable to his surroundings when he wants to be understood. So that’s why I sometimes don’t understand you. Also, it only works with one language. If I would start speaking French you wouldn’t understand me anymore either. It’s like a screen between you and the world, whatever comes through from your side sounds English to us if you want it to, and our English sounds as your native language to you.”
Sauron frowned.
“That is… informative.”
“I just thought you might like to know.”
He pensively nodded.
“Will you start with English?”
“Okay. No problem.”
Ginny was actually kind of nervous. She had never taught anyone anything before, and Sauron really didn’t seem like the easiest student to start with. He was rather intimidating most of the time, even when he wasn’t cursing or causing thunderstorms.
“So… Let’s begin with the alphabet. I think it’s somewhat similar to your Tengwar, it’s the characters we use to write the language down.”
“I see.”
And so their language classes started. Ginny didn’t have to actually teach as much as she had feared; explaining the alphabet turned out to be enough to get started. Sauron read the grammar books himself, and apparently got himself over his dislike of asking for things; he asked Bill to occasionally remove the translation spell, so he could get used to the sound of English. Ginny knew that he must be a very intelligent person, but she was still baffled by how quickly he managed to get the basics. He did have the urge to paste all words together a bit, somewhat making a phrase sound like one long word, and he was far from speaking and writing proper English… but Ginny estimated it would only take him a few months to master the language. Her own language classes on the other hand… She found that she admired Sauron for how quickly he had gotten the hang of the English alphabet, because her own attempts at Tengwar were clumsy at best…

In the following weeks, an unusual companionship was formed between Ginny and Sauron. Ginny often wondered why she liked him, because he was harsh in his best moments and downright antipathetic in all the others… but she did. It was very much like the hole in the house. It had been an uncomfortable nuisance at first, but they had slowly began to see and appreciate the advantages of the thing, up to the point where they were actually reluctant to have it repaired completely. Sauron was just like that; even though he was still largely the same grumpy, gloomy person, the whole family had come to somewhat like him. Ron found in Sauron his superior when it came to wizard chess –a game Ginny had added to her slowly growing mental list of Things Sauron Liked- Fred and George admired him for his apparently brilliant Beater skills, he and Bill got to an understanding with the translation spell, and even Percy appreciated him for his –rather obsessive- neatness. 
However, the better Ginny got to know Sauron, the more she realized that she knew nothing about him at all. There were bits and pieces of information of course, but she found that the Maia was very good at avoiding questions, be it by being generally threatening or simply talking his way around them. A major bit of information hit her however when she went over her Black Speech vocabulary list.
“War. Mazauk. Hatred. Mokum. Ally. Narish. Pain. Nûl…”
Most of the words were… either unpleasant or related to warfare. The list grew every day, but there was so far no word for love, or happiness, or even friends. Ginny thought it was unlikely that there would be no word for those things, but… well, it was possible that pleasant words were as blatantly absent from Black Speech as the letter E. 
“You were involved in a war, no?”
“What?”
Ginny shrugged.
“All your vocabulary is related to war. So, am I right?”
“I don’t want to…”
“Ah come on, just yes or no!”
His eyes flared dangerously red and his voice got that threatening edge when he hissed,
“What about “I don’t want to talk about it” is so hard to understand? Leave me.”
The answer, Ginny decided, was definitely yes. However, she soon noticed that inconspicuous words like Cat, Dress, Table, Egg and Hair started to appear on the vocabulary list rather than descriptions of weapons and torture devices. Tsss… 

He had to watch out for this Ginny. She was unusually perceptive, especially in comparison to her family members. Of course, he had been stupid with the vocabulary list. It was a force of habit to write down the words he used most first. He had corrected his mistake, but she would probably not let it go…
Sauron was still at loss of how to behave exactly, not something he was used to. The first weeks had been so confusing that he had been unable to set up an amiable act, and now that act would be seen through rather easily, he suspected, especially by Ginny… He would have to work on that; having her around him so much was a disadvantage, but he could try to turn it in his favor.
He learned English easily –although the overabundance of E’s annoyed him to no end- and he suspected to master it soon enough to avoid trouble at Hogwarts. Not that he liked to think about that; going to the illustrious wizard school was not exactly something he looked forward to. Although, his strategic mind provided him- it was the way to gaining power and insight, and in the end perhaps a victory that would put him in a ruling position. And if that wasn’t possible, he could devise a way to return to Middle-Earth and bring what he had learned to practice. What he had read so far about the Wizarding world and its warfare had made him curious; this brand of magic was unheard of in Middle-Earth, and he already saw countless ways in which he could profit from it. Especially the mentions of Dark Magic had sparked his interest…

Two months passed, and at the end of the summer the Hogwarts letters arrived by owl. Sauron also got one, and he frowned at the list of items he would need. Gloves of dragon hide? A pointed hat for day wear? Would he really have to dress like an Istar? The irony wasn’t lost on him. Molly caught his frown.
“Don’t worry, we can find all these things on Diagon Alley! I say we go today, if we’re lucky we can get there before the crowds!”
Crowds. Great. There was no escaping it however, Molly took on her army commander persona again –she wouldn’t have done bad leading a regiment of Orcs, he thought- and gathered the Weasley troops for what was going to be a very extensive shopping trip. They used the Floo –a horrible but inventive device in his opinion- and arrived at Diagon Alley, a rather busy street full of shops with signs he couldn’t entirely decipher. Molly led them skillfully through the masses of people, from shop to shop. Books, a cauldron, a potions kit, all the things on the list were bought until only robes and a wand for Sauron were still missing. 
In a shop called Madam Malkins’ he got black Hogwarts robes, and also two pairs of “normal” robes to wear at home. All were black, and to his surprise Sauron found he didn’t dislike them. Only that hat he didn’t plan on ever wearing. Rationally he knew that no creature of Middle-Earth could see him here… but the thought of the Valar amusing themselves at the sight of him in Istari-garb was enough to make him instantly hate the hat. 
And then, at last, they went to the store that apparently sold the wands. When they entered, Sauron could feel he was in a room filled with objects of power. He couldn’t place the nature of the power, whether it was dark or light… but it made his skin crawl anyway. Power that wasn’t his to rule always had that effect on him. The owner of the shop was an elderly man named Ollivander, and once again Sauron was reminded of Olórin. There was no physical likeness, but those eyes… Far too piercing for his taste. Ollivander immediately appeared to know that out of all the people in the group he was the one in need of a wand.
“Well, well… Aren’t you a little old, to still be in need of your first wand?” 
You have no idea, Sauron thought.
“How do you know it’s my first?”
“Easily. I remember every single wand I have ever crafted, Mr…”
“Sauron. Just Sauron.”
Never thought there would be a time he would have to specify that… 
“Let’s measure you up, and I’ll see what I can do…”
A little later, Sauron had tried about twenty wands, and he had still not found one that “fit”, whatever that was supposed to mean. He was growing a little desperate, the shop got on his nerves and the Weasleys who impatiently stared at him didn’t really help either. At long last, Ollivander had an idea.
“There is one other wand I would like you to try. I didn’t think I would ever sell it, it was meant as an experiment more than anything else…” He took out a dusty box from under his desk and handed it to Sauron. “I wanted to do something not done before… 13 inches, Yew, with a core of Thestral tail hair…” Ollivander seemed lost in thought for a moment. “It is the only wand I ever made like that, and I didn’t think it would ever find its match…” Then he sent Sauron a piercing gaze. “But perhaps you…”
The moment Sauron took the wand in his hand bright fiery sparks escaped from it and lit up the entire room with their glow. He understood now what the wandmaker had meant with a wand that “fit”… He could feel the dark wood tremble in his hand with power, rejoicing almost because it had found its match. It felt… strange. It was an object of Power, so different from the Ring… and yet… holding the wand made his hand feel whole again. Sauron stared at it in unhidden wonder.
“It seems I was right… Your eyes must have seen more than you show, for such a wand to choose you…”
He didn’t know what to say. Molly paid for the wand, and they left the shop. The other Weasleys were noisy as usual, but he didn’t give it much notice. He did notice the suspicious looks Arthur sent him…


Chapter 6 - Sauron hates water, sets a tree on fire, and laments on his life (again).

Chapter 6.
In which Sauron hates water, a tree is set on fire, and Bill wonders how to explain a train.

After they had come back from Diagon Alley and Sauron had gotten ensnared in a particularly violent game of Wizard Chess with Ron, her father had taken her apart with a worried look in his eyes. 
“Ginny… I want you to watch out for this guy. He is not who he seems.”
“How… how do you mean?”
“That wand. I don’t know much about Thestrals, but I know that they are dark creatures, harbingers of death. And Yew… they say You-Know-Who has a Yew wand. Not to mention 13 inches… You know the number 13.” Arthur gave his daughter a deeply concerned look. “I’m not a wandmaker, but any idiot can see that a wand such as that is dark. This Sauron is a dark wizard and I want you to watch out for him.”
“Dad, do you really think I have learned nothing from what happened in my first year?”
“We almost lost you back then. I won’t have that happen again. Be careful.”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
“I always worry about you, Ginny dear…”
She hugged her father, but in mind she added another piece to the puzzle that was Sauron. He had been in a war. He had a very dark wand. He was a strategist. The odds were that he had killed many people in his home world, she decided. It was a frightening thought, but an sich it didn’t really change her opinion of him. Somewhere she had always known he was a dangerous and dark person… The thought of murder frightened her, but the thought of Sauron didn’t. Not more than it usually did, that is. 

The day they would leave to Hogwarts was coming closer… and Sauron was finally starting to be a little excited about it. He had thought he wouldn’t, ever… but the experience with the strange wand had made him change his mind. This world was full of wonders, strange magic and flushable latrines, and a peek at the magic books they had bought had made him eager to begin studying this otherworldly sorcery. He had noticed however that no dark magic was taught at Hogwarts, only “defense against”. Irony strikes again, he thought with a hint of amusement…
Sitting on the couch in the still incredibly messy living room, Sauron mused about everything that had happened. Sometimes he still wondered if this world was an illusion, a creation of the Valar to punish him… Yet at the same time, he was starting to doubt it. He didn’t think they would have granted him an object of power if this was a punishment-illusion… but then, Eru’s ways were unfathomable and often treacherous… Sauron was just remembering one of his least favorite events in history when two unthinking redheads decided to do a small-scale reenactment of it, featuring a bucket of enchanted water and the famous hole in the ceiling.
“BOMBS AWAY!”
There is something very, very shocking about being lost in a memory of drowning, and then suddenly having a lot of water thrown over you for real, Sauron found. The scream escaped his mouth before he even realized what had happened. It was desperate and piercing and echoed through the whole house, carrying so much fear in it that made everyone shiver. Before anyone could do something, Sauron had stormed out of the house, yelling things in Black Speech that were too foul to repeat in any language. The silence after the door slammed close was awkward at best. Bill and Molly both looked pleading at Ginny, who had just come downstairs. She felt the urge to facepalm when she caught sight of the wet spot on the sofa and the guiltily grinning faces of her brothers through the hole. Did they really never learn? She caught the unspoken question in her parents’ eyes, and sighed.
“Fine, I’ll go check on him…”
She just got outside when lightning struck a tree close to the house and set it on fire. The sky was black and threatening, and Sauron stood on the lawn, yelling at it. Ginny didn’t understand much of it, but Mokat (to hate) and Ponîat (to loathe) were frequently used words. She observed the Maia’s anger for a little while, until the screaming ceased and he just stood there, muttering all kinds of curses. Then she approached him.
“So, you’ve set a tree on fire. Feeling better now?”
He didn’t answer her, but seemed to take notice of the fact he was completely soaked. Shivering, he muttered,
“Mok-izg nîn…” 
Ginny translated the phrase, as “I hate water”. Which would indeed explain a bit of his sudden attack. She sighed.
“Mok dur zim…” 
Which meant something like “you hate a lot of things.” Sauron turned and looked at her, apparently surprised to hear her speak his tongue. With a grim voice he replied,
“List nar akash…” 
And that would mean something along the lines of “You don’t know half of it.” Ginny smiled and sat down, and as she had hoped the Maia soon followed her example. He broke the silence first.
“You pronounce the letter R wrongly. It should come from your throat, not the tip of your tongue.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. How much did you understand?”
“You hate water, and a pile of other things too. And you were yelling at the sky to answer you.” 
Sauron pensively nodded and stared at the black clouds.
“The clouds remind me of Mordor…”
Ginny’s eyes widened. Sauron was talking about his home world, without being prodded and pestered endlessly? She had the slight feeling this was going to be a good story…

So it had happened again. He had gone through another nervous-breakdown-induced burst of accidental magic. Sauron decided that this time it was more justified than the first time. After all, reliving a drowning was something everyone would panic over. Except perhaps Námo, but then, he would have seen it coming all along, the prescient bastard. Sauron was almost certain now that this whole experience was some “just punishment” the Lord of Mandos had dished out. He eyed the girl next to him. Ginny Weasley. It had been odd to hear the Black Speech out of her mouth, odd but strangely comforting. He hadn’t realized before how much comfort there was in little things, tiny pieces of familiarity in a sea of unknown things… When he stared at the clouds, he was reminded of the permanently dark sky over Mordor. It was only when he caught Ginny’s surprised look that he realized he must have said that out loud. Ah well.
“The skies are always dark in Mordor… I didn’t realize I missed it.”
“We always appreciate home most when we’re not there, I guess.”
He had been away from Mordor, from Barad-dûr, for years already. He was pretty sure he had spent at least a century in the Void and he hadn’t missed his citadel much in those years. But now, here… he did. And the sense of loss brought back memories of a time that he had missed another place. A place he had willingly given up and would never return to… Sauron tried to repress the memories of Valinor, but found that he couldn’t. The burning tree… it was ironic in far more ways than one. To distract his mind, he decided to tell the young she-wizard about what had unsettled him so.
“In my world, there was once a kingdom called Númenor. It was an island, and it was considered very beautiful. Grassy plains, blue skies, large beaches, white cities… You get the idea. Its people were skilled in the forging of weapons and armor, and they bred horses that were renowned throughout Middle-Earth. Their greatest power was in their fleet however; the Númenoreans were skilled sailors and they built out a maritime empire that never saw its equal. Their power and richness was large…”
He remembered the island like it was just yesterday… Of all his memories, the great wave coming at him and Tar-Míriel was one of his most prominent ones. Somehow the drowning of Númenor was the one event that kept returning to the forefront of his mind time after time again...
“What happened to it?”
“The people were vain, they started taking their richness for granted and became arrogant. They were already called Kings Among Men, but they still wanted more. Gods Among Men, that’s what they wanted to be. In pursuit of immortality they crossed the Creator of Arda… and enraged, he drowned Númenor and all its inhabitants in an enormous deluge. Only a handful escaped. The island disappeared under the waves forever, and the shape of the world was altered drastically.”
He couldn’t tell her that it was he who had manipulated and bent the minds of the Númenoreans until they believed they should be immortal. He couldn’t tell her that it was his fault that the island had been destroyed. Ginny looked at him with big eyes.
“In your world… you have beings capable of doing that? Making a whole country disappear into the ocean?”
“Yes. Only one being, though.”
Ginny looked at him with keen eyes, and suddenly it dawned on her.
“You… you were there, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
The silence after that was tangible…

Ginny didn’t know what to say. He had seen how a whole country disappeared in the ocean… no wonder he disliked water, she thought. Judging from the way he had screamed when the contents of that bucket hit him, he was afraid of it as well. However, she felt there was more to the story than what he told her. Something about it had felt manipulative, almost. Not entirely heartfelt… It made her think of someone.
“You know, you make me think of someone I have known.”
It was out before she could stop herself, and Sauron appeared rather surprised.
“Oh?”
“He was… well, in many ways he was very different from you… But he did that same thing you just did, when he told me something. I can’t really define it. Not lying, but… hiding the truth, somehow.”
Sauron blinked, and Ginny swallowed, realizing she walked a thin line…
“You think I hide the truth?”
“I don’t know; I have no way to check.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter much anyway, I guess.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not as if I’ll ever see your world. And the person in question is dead. At least, I hope so. He has the tendency to die and come back again.”
 Now that, Sauron decided, was very ironic. Irony ruled this realm, it seemed.
“I didn’t realize your species was capable of this.”
“Normally we aren’t. I certainly can’t do it. He used a lot of dark magic to get it done, I suppose.”
“This person you speak of… he returned from the dead more than once?”
Ginny smiled bitterly.
“I think this is the moment where I should say I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But you do. Want to talk about it, I mean.”
“Not exactly. We didn’t part on amicable terms. If I would ever see him again, all I want to tell him is that paashat htol-ta.”
Sauron couldn’t help it; a smirk appeared on his face when he heard the girl curse in Black Speech. He had been surrounded by Orcs, back in Mordor so it was far from the worst expletive he’d ever heard, but coming from Ginny it was… strange. He pondered for a moment over what she had told him. Perhaps this girl wasn’t as innocent as she seemed… He briefly wondered whether she had killed this man she spoke of. Then he realized she was eyeing him, and he decided to express his amusement at her cursing.
“Za kulat uk?” 
She caught his smirk when he almost playfully asked if telling the man to screw himself was all she would do… and she answered determinedly.
 “Akub-izg hosh-tab agh ghru-tab.” 
Sauron shook his head, really amused now. 
“Fukaush…I should not learn you all those curses…” 
“Too late for that now!”
“So it seems…”
And so they sat there, under the slowly dissolving back deck of clouds, in relative silence. Sauron’s drenched clothes were starting to dry, and the fire in the tree had gone out. Yet they sat there until patches of blue sky became visible again, each lost in their own thoughts. Sauron thought about Númenor, about Mordor, about dark magic, and about the Valar and their punishments. Ginny thought about Tom Riddle, and about how she had almost died at 11. She peeked at Sauron and wondered about that. He really reminded her of the boy in the diary, and at the same time he didn’t. Ginny didn’t understand it, and she wondered if she ever would. Their musings were broken by Bill, who came out of the house and yelled,
“Hey, we’re having dinner! Are you two coming inside?”
They got up and went back inside, where two embarrassed redheads were forced to apologize for their enchanted water bucket attack. Sauron was also warned not to magically dry his clothes now, as they would turn pink if he did that. Not angry anymore, but definitely annoyed, Sauron decided that if those two had been his servants he would have had them whipped until they bled and possibly prepared as Balrog food after that. Of course, that he didn’t say aloud.  

“I have to warn you. To catch the train we’ll have to pass through Muggle London. It’s not exactly Ottery-Saint-Catchpole, just so you know.”
Bill’s well-meant advice made Sauron frown. He had been playing chess with Ron and didn’t like being disturbed. Bill’s remark made him wonder though.
“What is a train?”
Bill, and Ron both eyed Sauron suspiciously.
“What transport exists in your world?”
“Horses and carriages?”
He had thought that in this world, Floos and Brooms were the principal means of transport… apparently not though. Ron smirked.
“You are in for a shock in London!”
“I just require to know what a train is!”
“Well…” Bill sought a way to explain it. “You could see it as a whole trail of carriages linked together, but instead of being pulled by horses, it’s pulled by a machine.”
Now that was interesting.
“Your world has industry?”
“Well… the muggle world does. People who don’t have magic build machines for everything.” Bill looked questioning at Sauron. “Does your world have industry?”
“Yes.” War industry, mostly. Although he could imagine how a machine-pulled trail of carriages could be useful… if he ever got back to Middle-Earth, perhaps he should look into that. 
“But you have horses and carriages still?”
“Our industry is not focused on transportation.”
“Oh. Right. Anyway, so we’ll go to Hogwarts by train. You’ll see what it’s like soon enough.”
And seeing he did. London was a city like he’d never seen one. There was nothing like it on Arda, nothing that could compare even the least. Astonishment and complete incomprehension were fighting for dominance in his mind. How had they built something like this? What materials were those, what were all those machines for, how did they fuel everything? Thousands of questions piled up and he didn’t know what to ask first. When they eventually entered King’s Cross Station, his amazement doubled, not so much because of the décor but because they expected him to go straight through a wall. 
“Ginny, you’ll help Sauron to the Platform, okay?” 
“Sure mom.” She smiled at him. “It’s just an illusion to keep Muggles away from the train. Don’t worry about it!”
And with that, she sort of pushed him through the wall. Despite what she had said, he had been expecting to hit cold bricks… That didn’t happen, however. He blinked a couple times, trying to take in what he saw. The other Weasleys came immediately after him. Arthur announced cheerily,
“Welcome to Platform 9¾!”
Sauron was speechless, completely and utterly speechless. He felt Ginny next to him.
“Impressive huh?”
He could only hum in agreement…

(Author's Apologies)
On the topic of Black Speech: 
I am fascinated with it, so it will show up quite often in the story. The variety used is the Land Of Shadow Dialect, developed by Scatha and based on the work of Tolkien. It's an awesome invention for which I take no credit whatsoever. I am learning it together with Ginny, so to say. It's not that hard -if only French was this easy... *sigh*- and thus not impossible to learn. In case you didn't know, the whole language is really devoid of the letter E, and features a very guttural letter R. It's impossible not to sound threatening while practicing pronunciation (as my family has found out lately) xD
Translations will be provided at the bottom of the chapter.

TRANSLATIONS
“Mok-izg nîn…” (I hate water)
“Mok dur zim…” (You hate a lot - literally "a great amount") 
“List nar akash…” (You know not half)
"Paashat htol-ta.” (He can fuck himself)
“Za kulat uk?” (Is that all?)
 “Akub-izg hosh-tab agh ghru-tab.” (I will disembowel him and cut his penis)
"Fukaush..." (Feisty)


Chapter 7 - Sauron finds another reason to dislike pointy hats.

Chapter 7.
In which Sauron finds another reason to dislike pointy hats.  

Ginny wanted to introduce him to her friends, so Sauron got pulled along to a group of people Ron was talking to. Ginny waved.
“Hi guys!”
One was a rather scrawny boy, with penetrating green eyes, messy black hair and a strange scar on his forehead. The other one was a moderately attractive girl with bushy hair and an expression of excitement on her face. Ron didn’t seem too happy that his little sister came to intrude in his group of friends…
“Oh. Hi Gin.”
Ron rolled his eyes, while the other ones eyed Sauron with interest and perhaps slight suspicion.
“Who’s that?”
“Guys, this is Sauron. Sauron, this is Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter. And my brother, but you know him.” 
He nodded in a way that he hoped was polite. The bushy haired girl identified as Hermione gave him a scrutinizing look.
“Aren’t you a bit old for Hogwarts?”
Ron rolled his eyes again.
“He’s from abroad. Lives with us for the moment. Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea if he got to study magic too.”
“Oh…”
The girl seemed to overthink that for a moment. The next moment she opened fire.
“Where are you from? Have you travelled a lot? Do you speak many languages? How long do you know you’re a wizard already? Are you muggleborn or pureblood? Are you excited for Hogwarts? What house do you want to be in?”
Hermione had questions, and she fired them at him with the determination of an Oliphaunt storming a gate. Ginny bit her lip.
“It’s a long story. We’ll tell you later. We should go find Luna now. Bye guys!”
She pulled Sauron with her, and he was more than willing to follow her. The questions had been irritating, but the look Harry Potter had been giving him was downright unpleasant. It had been far too suspicious for his liking. Right now, even the bizarre Lovegood girl would be an improvement of company…

On the train, Sauron took out his notebook and made a sketch of the locomotive, for as far as he had seen it. Normally he wouldn’t take out his personal documents in public, but he found he had to write down what he remembered now, before he forgot it. Not that he forgot many things, but writing it down helped ordering his thoughts. Unfortunately it drew the attention of Luna Lovegood, whom he and Ginny shared a compartment with.
“You draw quite well.”
Hundreds of technical drawings and sketches for weapons, armor, and even the design of his Citadel had taught him something after all then…
“You should draw your homeland once.”
He ignored Luna, but it didn’t stop her from peeking in his notebook. It was annoying, but a lot of things were. He was going to a school full of children, and children were annoying per definition. This whole thing would be an exercise in self-control and patience, and Sauron didn’t plan on losing his cool so early in it. 
“I only draw for good reasons.”
“If you like drawing, it’s a good enough reason.”
“I don’t like it, it is a skill useful to me in certain situations. When not in those situations, I am not interested to draw anything.”
“I see. There is not much you like, is there?”
Again, one of those strangely ominous sounding expressions… He closed the notebook and put it away. 
“What I do and do not like is of no concern to you.”
With that he hoped he ended the conversation. He evaded the awkwardness by taking up another book and… well, pretending to read, mostly. He could understand and read basic English well enough now, but the text in his arithmancy book was a little too complex for his skill level still. Sauron caught Ginny’s knowing smile and scowled. This one would come back to bite him in the ass, of that he was convinced…

When the train stopped, Ginny suddenly remembered a rather important detail about how people in their first year usually got to Hogwarts. She pondered for a moment whether to tell Sauron or not, but decided he could better face it prepared.
“Err… Sauron?”
“Yes?”
“The first years travel to Hogwarts by boat.”
“By… boat?”
“There’s a lake, the Black Lake, and the groundskeeper takes the first years in boats over it.”
Sauron hid his emotions very well, but the flicker of orange in his golden eyes told Ginny enough.
“It’s not so bad… Just thought to warn you in advance.”
No, it was not so bad. He had been on boats often enough. He hated them with a vengeance, but this was just a lake. How bad could it be? 
“Thoughtful.”
When they got out, Sauron noticed that he got many curious stares from people. Apparently it wasn’t usual for a tall 20-something year old to hang around among the first years. He walked a bit out of the crowd, and caught sight of the carriages he suspected the other students would take. In front of them stood horses… no. Not horses. They were black and winged, and almost skeletal, and Sauron felt oddly attracted to them. He had never been good with animals, but these creatures didn’t flinch away from him, if anything they approached him for as far as their bridles allowed it. He softly stroked one over the nose, almost affectionate.
“They like you.”
He startled from the clear voice of Luna Lovegood next to him. The blonde girl gave him her mysterious smile, and not knowing what else to say he asked,
“What are these creatures?”
“Thestrals. Only those who saw death can see them.”
So these were the creatures of which the hair had been worked into his wand… Sauron smirked. Yes, he had seen death indeed, often and in great quantities. Perhaps that was why the thestrals didn’t seem to dislike him. He wanted to pat them again for some reason, but the presence of Luna stopped him from doing so. How could she see them, anyway? When had a child like her seen death? The opportunity passed when a large, bearded man started calling out for the first years to come to the boats. 
“You should go. I suppose we’ll meet again soon. Bye!”  
Sauron made his way to the boats, feeling both annoyed and apprehensive. He hated boats, he hated water, and he definitely hated loads of small children. They reminded him of Hobbits. Why couldn’t all species just get born into adulthood, like Maiar? It would make life so much less complicated… 
The boat trip was spent blocking out the excited babbling of children, ignoring the curious looks of children, and desperately trying to forget he was in a boat, on a lake, surrounded by water. The first two he managed, the last one… not so much. He was completely stressed up when he entered the Great Hall, and thus didn’t spend much thought on the décor. He was more concerned with the fact he was about twice as tall as some children, and stuck out like a sore thumb in the group of first years. He didn’t even count as a first year! Actually it was downright humiliating that he had to go through this. He was certain they could have “sorted” him somewhere in private. But then… if this was punishment, it made sense that he would be humiliated as much as possible. Damn Valar… 
He watched how a rather old wizard’s hat got put on a stool, and raised eyebrows as the thing started to sing. The style of the song reminded Sauron of Middle-Earth minstrels… Then the sorting began, and the whole process somewhat puzzled him. They actually relied on the judgement of a talking piece of garment to sort students into fitting houses? He didn’t have much time to think, because soon the stern lady called out.
“Sauron Gorthaur.”
He got to sit on the ridiculously small stool with the hat on his head. Much to his surprise, he suddenly heard a voice in his mind.
“Well, well… what do we have here? I don’t think I’ve sorted one like you before… Mairon is a beautiful name, by the way. Too bad you don’t use it anymore…” 
Sauron almost answered out loud, but corrected himself and thought.
“What?”
“Hmm… where to put you… Let’s see, you’re not exactly loyal, are you?”
“Excuse me? I am loyal to Melkor, I am his most trusted lieutenant! I continued his work on Middle-Earth!”
“Obeisance out of fear is not loyalty, and neither is picking the least bad of two options, Mairon. Didn’t you repent after the War of Wrath, only to run away out of fear for trial?”
Sauron scowled. 
“All right, that wasn’t my proudest moment…”
“It’s still to be seen if what you did then was the least bad of your options, actually. As for bravery… I think we answered that question with previous example, didn’t we?”
“You’re a fucking hat! What right do you have to judge me?”
“I am the Sorting Hat, and that places you, literally, under me. I have all the right to judge you. Now, where was I? No loyalty, no bravery…”
Sauron felt the growing urge to pull the hat off his head and kick it.
“I’m not going to put you in Slytherin. Made that mistake once, not doing it again. You’re cunning and power-hungry enough for it, but you need to find yourself a place in the world first. So, then remains only one house for you, Mairon. You seek knowledge, insight and understanding, so I’m sure you’ll do well in RAVENCLAW!”
In the meantime, more than five minutes had passed and the whole Great Hall had been observing Sauron’s expressive facial expressions while the hat made its decision. While the Ravenclaws clapped, Sauron put the hat back on the stool, grumbling under his breath.
“I’ll get you back for this, Hat.”
The Hat appeared to grin.
“We’ll see, we’ll see…”
With clenched fists and smoldering red eyes he made his way to the Ravenclaw table. One girl waved enthusiastically at him, she had apparently kept a spot. Luna Lovegood. Since no one else was very eager to let the strange and evil looking new guy sit next to them, he had no choice but to sit down next to Luna. 
“I told you we’d meet again soon.”
He didn’t answer, only gave her a most dangerous look… that she answered with a happy smile. Wasn’t anyone intimidated by him anymore? Okay, the rest of the table didn’t count; it only took one non-intimidated person to ruin his status after all. He felt awkward and out of place, and for once he wished Ginny Weasley was there. He didn’t like to admit it, but she was probably the only thing that made this punishment bearable… 
Headmaster Dumbledore made announcements, and one of those concerned a tournament in which more schools would compete. It sounded… relatively familiar, actually. He recalled that the people of Gondor organized things like that as well, quests for glory to keep warriors occupied in peacetime… Sauron hoped the tasks would be extremely dangerous and preferably end in a bloody mess. After all he’d been through he could use a bit of familiar entertainment… (With his luck however, they would probably be patting bunnies and baking pies for tasks.)
The rest of the meal, Sauron spent thinking up irrational things Námo and Manwë were probably doing at the moment. One of those was watching him in a palantìr and rolling on the floor with laughter. Maybe they had even invited those nasty, horrible Hobbits to watch with them. He could just feel his anger rise at the mere thought of it. 
“When you aren’t sure, give people the benefit of doubt. If anything it’s good for your temper.”
Again, Luna gave him one of those prophecy-like advices, staring at him unblinkingly. How unpleasant it might be though, she was right. He took a deep breath and banned Hobbits from his mind. For all he knew they had fallen in Orodruin and died a satisfactory death by fire.

“I don’t like that guy, Ginny.”
“Harry, you don’t know him, at all! Besides, he’s in Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw isn’t exactly known to produce evil wizards, is it?”
“Ron told me about his wand.” 
“Right, because that is so defining. Who is it again whose wand is a brother to You-Know-Who’s?”
Harry sighed.
“You know what I mean. Something about him just doesn’t sit right with me.”
Ginny shook her head.
“Really, you shouldn’t judge him before you get to know him. He’s…” She hesitated for a moment. Sauron wasn’t really nice, not even if you got to know him, and she wasn’t sure he wasn’t dangerous either. “A bit like Snape, I think.” She eventually said. Harry raised an eyebrow.
“Like Snape? That guy?”
“That guy has a name, Harry. And I know he’s a little strange, but…” She sighed. “He’s been through a lot and everything here is new for him. Cut him some slack, will you?”
Harry gave her a dark glance.
“Please watch out with him. I… I don’t want you to be harmed.”
Ginny smiled.
“I’ll manage.”
Harry left, and Ginny contemplated his words. Two people had warned her already for Sauron, and she couldn’t really blame them. He had a terrible temper, was perpetually grumpy, and he exuded an aura of horrible doom and danger. Then why did she like him? Ginny found that she didn’t really know; she just found that she did. Despite all his dangerousness and evil flaming glares she had the feeling that Sauron was in truth just really confused and not all that bad. She couldn’t really tell anyone, and she was sort of sure Sauron himself would think it an insult, but that didn’t change her idea about it.


Chapter 8 - Doom, a Third Eye, and a prefect named Precious.

Chapter 8.
In which there is Doom, a third eye, and a prefect named Precious.

They had given him a room of his own, at least that much privacy was granted him. Sauron looked at the canopy bed with blue curtains and sighed deeply when sitting down. The Olórin-lookalike had given him a schedule and tried once again to invade his mind, more aggressively this time. Sauron knew his mental defenses were unlikely to break thanks to his Maiar heritage; he even knew that if he wanted to he could probably see into Dumbledore’s mind easily. He didn’t feel like it, however. He was suspicious enough just like this, there was no need to reveal his powers to anyone, let alone a potential enemy. Experience thought him that the best way to go about gaining power was being underestimated.
Trying to find a comfortable position on the bed, Sauron looked at his schedule. Charms, Transfiguration, Divination, Defense Against The Dark Arts, Potions, Astronomy… all the indicated “classes” were actually skill-tests. Until he his skills had been tested by all the teachers, he was free to follow any year’s classes in the meantime. Awkward as it might be to learn amongst children, Sauron could appreciate the freedom. He decided to study a bit for the tests first though, using the reading spell that Bill had given him very clear instructions for. He had just finished two chapters in the Charms textbook, making the basic Accio, Lumos and Locomotor spells work with ease, when there was a knock on his door.
“Yes?”
The door opened and showed a shapely young female of about 17 years old. She had brown hair, a wide laughing mouth and big brown eyes, and her uniform blouse was a little bit too tight to fit her rather large bosom. 
“Hi there, are you Sauron Gorthaur?”
“Yes.”
“I know we haven’t met yet, but I’ve been assigned to show you around. The other prefects said you didn’t join the other first years for a tour, so here I am!”
She gave him a broad smile and beckoned him to follow her. Audibly sighing, Sauron did so. What he wouldn’t give to be free of this nonsense…
“My name is Precious Nibelungen. My family’s from Austria, but I have lived in England most of my life. Where are you from? Your name doesn’t sound familiar, are you from Scandinavia by any chance? They say Scandinavians are tall, and you are really tall too…”
“I have traveled a lot. I am from… A country across the ocean.”
The girl whipped her brown curls and laughed excitedly.
“Oh awesome, you mean you’re from the States? That’s just awesome! I mean, I have always wanted to go there, but my parents say I’m too young and international portkeys are too expensive at the moment. What’s it like there?”
Sauron felt slightly overwhelmed and increasingly irritated by the presence of Precious. She was entirely too friendly, entirely too exited, far too happy for his liking, and apparently completely insensitive to his glares. She dragged him through the common room, enthusiastically waving at her friends, and then showed him the rest of the castle at high speed, babbling through the process about her family, her house in Austria, her love of travelling, the Triwizard Tournament, a thing called Opera, and her pet armadillo Lorelei. Eventually she left Sauron alone in a state between anger and confusion to “tend to her other prefect duties”. 
“You’ll find your way from here, won’t you? I have to go now! If you need me, just ask someone to fetch me, everyone knows me here!”
He watched her skip away, her heavy boobs and ass bouncing as she walked, and silently cursed her to Orodruin. He didn’t understand how one person could be so maddeningly excited, all the time. He had only known the young she-wizard for a couple moments, but he had already decided he liked the Weasley Twins better, which meant a great deal considering his hatred of those. Realizing he was standing in the middle of the corridor, glaring daggers at empty space, he looked around and tried to orientate. There was absolutely nothing familiar here… He walked a little further and came upon a great spiraling staircase. Not knowing what else to do, Sauron climbed and eventually ended up in front of a circular trapdoor. He knocked and entered, and doing so he intruded in what apparently was a class in progress. The room was filled with a sickeningly sweet sort of perfume that hit him like a fist in the face when he entered.
“Ah, I already Saw that you were still coming. Please, please… have a seat!”
The room made Sauron think of the Weasley’s living room, but with bad ventilation and more dusty pink chintz, and in the middle of it stood a woman who was practically buried under scarves and necklaces, with messy light-brown hair and a glass contraption on her face that made her eyes look enormous. He also took notice of the fact that everyone was looking at him.
“I think I am in the wrong place… I just…”
“The Eye is never wrong! Have a seat so we can continue the class!”
Sauron spotted Ginny at a table with Luna, and made his way over to her. Perhaps she could shed some clarity on this… When he sat down, Ginny grinned.
“You were lost? Really?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. What is this class?”
“Divination. It’s total bogus, but it can be funny. That’s Trelawney, the professor. She’s not really right in the head and drinks too much sherry, so you don’t have to worry about her.”
“What is this subject about, exactly?”
Ginny shrugged.
“It’s supposedly about foretelling the future, but… well yeah, it mostly comes down to her picking out a student and raining down promises of doom and demise on them. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her foretell anything happy.”
Luna joined the conversation, giving Sauron a knowing look.
“You could say she is the doomsayer of Hogwarts. Do you have something like that in your world too?”
Sauron almost chuckled at the thought of Námo in the professor’s outfit. Almost. 
“Yes. There are prescient individuals in my world.”
He then noticed the crystal ball on the table. It reminded him suspiciously much of a palantìr. 
“What is that?”
Ginny rolled her eyes when he pointed at the thing.
“It’s a crystal ball. You look in it, and supposedly your third eye or whatever can see images of the future in it.”
“Your… third… eye?”
Sauron was quite convinced these creatures had only two eyes, and he did wonder where this third one might be situated. Ginny snickered when she caught his look.
“The third eye is your ‘inner eye’, or something like that. It’s not really an eye, more something like a mental insight, I think. Whatever, it’s bogus anyway. All I see in this thing is dust.”
Ginny might dismiss the crystal ball and the teachings of Trelawney, but Sauron couldn’t help but peer at the thing, focusing his mind on it as if it were a palantìr. Suddenly he saw something that made him gasp, a flash of something familiar. At the same moment, Trelawney’s high voice broke in the middle of an explanation that no one was following.
“Aaaargh!”
Everyone looked up to see the professor stand over her crystal ball, eerily pale and with her eyes wide open behind her glasses. 
“Skies ever dark lit up with the fires of doom, and the dark tower breaks down… People great and small released of the golden shackles at last, and the eye closes! The dead light of the sorcerer’s tower faded to the moon and the last ones sailed from the lands of men!” 
She stared into the distance, her lips parted as if she was seeing things she couldn’t describe.
“Doom…”
Sauron sat straight in his chair, knowing exactly what it was she spoke off. Trelawney set her wide eyes on him and spoke with an ominous voice,
“His spirit travels and the eye has opened again… The mirror will be the answer, the enemy, the gate. The daybreak of darkness will arrive, and when he embraces it he will know the truth of the Void…”
After that the professor gasped for breath and collapsed on the floor, leaving the class in confusion. Sauron was in shock, and Ginny noticed it.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He slowly shook his head. The prophecy had been about him, of that he was certain… It was a warning from that bastard Námo that if he would continue his old ways that he would be thrown back into the Void. Once again he was bitterly reminded of the falsehood of this world. It just had to be illusory; there was no other way. As the lesson was cut short, Luna volunteered to bring Sauron back to the Ravenclaw commons. He didn’t have the energy to protest, so he followed the young blonde. She didn’t chatter like Precious Nibelungen, but her presence was no less unnerving. Thoughts rambled through his head, and he had no will or desire to sort them out for the moment.
“Don’t fear the prophecies. Not everything is always what it seems.”
They arrived at the Ravenclaw tower, and the doorknocker asked them a question.
“What can be broken but not touched, and kept only after it was given?”
Luna smiled.
“My word.”
“Concise but correct.”
The door swung open, and they got into the Ravenclaw common room. Most people were studying, and Sauron just wanted to retreat to his own room to think about doom and his hatred of people who announced it. He left Luna without a word and slammed his chamber door close behind him.

After the debacle in Divination class, Ginny was confused, again. Judging from the way Trelawney had stared at Sauron, and his reaction to her words, the prophecy had been about him. She tried to recall the words. Something about skies ever dark, which made her think of Mordor, and towers that fell, and something about an eye too, and then a mirror… Ginny didn’t remember exactly anymore, but it had been a doom-speech like even Trelawney didn’t often give them. No wonder Sauron had been shocked... She wondered if he knew what it was all about. 

The words of the prophecy rang through his head and he couldn’t stop them. Trelawney, Luna… Why did this world have so many seer-ish people who all felt they had to predict his failures? He cursed at the Valar’s Doomsman and dearly hoped the bastard could hear him. Images of the fall of Barad-dûr haunted him, the Void haunted him like it had never done while he was still in it, and in general he felt horrible. His mind was jumbled again like it had been when he first arrived at the Weasleys…
He didn’t know why he took up his notebook and drawing tools and started drawing his dark Citadel. The building plans he had designed himself were still in his mind, and in no time the rough likeness of the tower was set on paper. He didn’t stop there though; he drew details and shadows until no more light entered through the windows and he realized he must have missed dinner. The drawing of Barad-dûr was finished, and Sauron found that his mind had cleared up a great deal. Remembering Luna’s advice on the train, he scowled. For some reason that child’s mysterious advices always seemed to be correct… 
Again, there was a knock on the door. And then another one, and another one. This time, Sauron decided to play dead and hope that the person on the other side would give up. That didn’t happen, however.
“Sauron, îst-izg kul atîg!”
Ginny Weasley had found his room. And, judging from what she said, she knew he was in it. Sighing, he got up from the bed and opened the door. 
“Mal latum.”
The redhead smiled hesitatingly.
“Just came to see how you were doing.”
He gave her an eyebrows-raised-really-now look, but still stepped aside so she could enter.
“How did you get in here?”
Ginny shrugged.
“The Ravenclaw commons are not just for Ravenclaws, they are for everyone pursuing knowledge. That’s why everyone is allowed to solve the doorknocker’s riddle. Of course, it’s not encouraged to hang in other commonrooms than your own, but it’s not forbidden either.”
“I see.” 
Ginny looked around in the room.
“So, single bedroom!”
“I could hardly be expected to share with those of your age. I have no desire to hear them engage in nightly activities.”
Ginny gave him a questioning and slightly comical glance.
“Nightly activities?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Err…No I don’t.”
Sauron pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 
“Snoring, wanking, copulating, coughing, moaning, sleep-talking, and whatever else your species engages in at night.”
“Oh.”
One of the things Ginny liked the most about Sauron was his ability to be dry and pragmatic about everything. Harsh and somewhat rude as it would seem to others, she liked the honesty. She noticed the notebook on the bed, and her eyes widened.
“Did… did you draw that?”
Sauron quickly closed the book.
“Yes.”
“Can I see it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He contemplated just saying “because I said so.” But he feared that would cause a childish discussion he didn’t feel like engaging in. He glared at her.
“Because it is private.” 
“I just wanted to see the drawing. It looked beautiful.”
So, Black Speech was interesting, his name was wholly unimpressive, and now Barad-dûr was beautiful? He softly shook his head, but still handed Ginny the book, folding it open on the correct page. He could hardly believe it himself, where was the time he would have killed for such a bold proposal? She stared at the drawing with big eyes, finger carefully tracing the lines.
“Was this your home?”
“It was. Barad-dûr, the highest building of Middle-Earth. Lugbûrz, in Black Speech.”
Ginny looked up.
“Lug-Bûrz. Dark Tower. Is this the dark tower from the prophecy?”
That girl was far too inquisitive for her own good… But, Sauron had to admit it; he had walked open-eyed in this one. He wanted to get angry, he really wanted to, but somehow couldn’t muster it. This world was wearing him down with the overload of new things he had to understand… Instead of lashing out at her, he softly said.
“Yes. It wasn’t really a prophecy anyway, more like a reminder. A history lesson.”
“Huh?”
“My tower has fallen already. My home exists no more, even if I were to return to my world I would have nowhere to go.”
Ginny stared at the drawing. The tower didn’t look like the most hospitable place… but it fitted Sauron perfectly, it was exactly the kind of place she imagined he would want to live. She wondered about the rest of the prophecy, but it felt wrong to ask. He had already told her more than she had dared to hope anyway.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. What is done is done.”
He sounded gruff and dismissive, as always when the subject of his home world came up. She looked at the drawing again, just couldn’t help but want to stare at the details of it. It was incredible that only a pencil had been used for it…
“Your drawing is beautiful. I haven’t seen anyone draw like this before.” 
“I had the time to practice my skill at it.”
She handed the book back to Sauron and smiled.
“Are you worried about your tests? Dumbledore said you would be doing tests first.”
“No. I don’t worry about the tests. Your type of magic is not so hard for one who knows how to focus his energy. I simply have to learn the spells themselves.”
“Nice… How is the English going?”
“Good. I don’t foresee any trouble in classes.”
There was a silence between them, for a while, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It reminded Ginny of how they had sat on the lawn after his tree-burning incident. 
“I almost forgot; I brought you a couple sandwiches. The house elves didn’t mind making some extra when I said you had missed dinner.”
She handed a paper-wrapped package to Sauron, who eyed it suspiciously. After a moment of inspection he looked up.
“Narnûlubat, Ginny.”
From what Ginny had learned, that was the thing closest to saying thanks that could be expressed in Black Speech. She decided to take it as a compliment. She bent her head politely as she had seen Sauron do sometimes, and smiled.
“Boghad.”
There were surprisingly few polite words in Black Speech, but even in its harshness it had a way of saying thank you and you’re welcome. Ginny found it fascinating. She realized that Sauron probably wouldn’t eat if she was watching him, so she excused herself and walked back to her own Commonroom. On the way she met Luna, who smiled at her.
“There are lots of wackspurts around your friend. You should tell him once not to overthink everything so deeply…”
“I try, but he’s stubborn.”
“I know. He’ll learn. Goodnight, Ginny!”
“Goodnight, Luna.”
Ginny knew Sauron didn’t like Luna too much, but she was happy they were in the same house either way. Luna was strange, but she was always right too somehow, and for some reason Ginny was convinced that Sauron could use a little guidance every now and then.

(Author's Apologies)
On the topic of Precious Nibelungen:
In case people don't know this, there is an opera by Wagner named "Der Ring Des Nibelungen", which is about a cursed ring that holds the power to rule the world. *coughs* sounds familiar, anyone? Yes, Sauron's torment isn't over yet...

TRANSLATIONS:
“Narnûlubat” (Thanks - literally "I will not hurt you", expression of gratitude acc. to Tolkien)
“Boghad.” (Sure, that's okay, no problem)


Chapter 9 - Sauron gives love advice.

Chapter 9. 
In which Sauron gives love advice.

Sauron’s tests passed, and he even managed to surprise some of the professors. His raw magical power was rather astonishing, and the Charms and Transfiguration class posed little trouble; the professors decided that he would be tutored privately as he learned too fast to follow any year’s courses. DADA didn’t form a problem either, but to get duelling practice he would follow the classes anyway in combination with tutoring. Thanks to his excessive study of Ginny’s textbook he had staggering points for History of Magic, and even Arithmancy turned out to be not such a big problem, for he had a quick insight in patterns and a good memory for symbols. But then… Potions was a disaster, Herbology was given up before he even started because the professor said, “the plants disliked him”, the Astronomy test had to take place during a cloudless night, and Divination… well, he really didn’t want to spend more time with Hogwarts’ Doomsayer than strictly necessary. He didn’t quite understand the disdain these people felt for their prophetess, as he –and the Ñoldor with him- knew very well that ignoring the advice of those who saw the future usually brought great strife. In any case, she knew too much about him and that made him uncomfortable.
After the tests he got a new schedule, and with that as a lead he found new order in his life at Hogwarts. Learning spells was easier than killing Orcs; even though he didn’t understand why anyone would waste magic on things you had servants for. But then again, different world, different habits… And as he had heard an Easterling say once; “When in Gondor, do as the Gondorians do”. Not that he planned to ever set foot in Gondor in the near future, but he grasped the idea. 
He got over the fact that Professor Flitwick made him think of a Hobbit and managed not to maim the man (too much), learned to transfigure a rock into a cupboard and earned McGonagall’s praise, blew up a cauldron in Potions and finally gained some understanding of the Weasley Twins, and still waited for a cloudless night to pass his Astronomy test. His social relations weren’t as mentionable, unfortunately. Ginny and Luna insisted to hang around him –and he found that he didn’t mind so much after all- but further not many people wanted to make friends with him. After the Divination incident there had been rumors about him, and a glimpse of his pointy ears or fiery eyes here and there was enough to fuel those. Sauron was perfectly content with the situation. Only Precious Nibelungen didn’t seem to get the message, coming back to him like a boomerang every time he dismissed her. Eventually he made it into some sort of game; he asked for her from one part of the castle, and then hastened himself to another part, making the whole into a rather complicated game of hide-and-seek. It was childish, but seeing the rather chubby Precious completely out of breath after doing all the staircases twice was an uncommonly pleasant thing. It was probably as close to torturing someone as he could get here. 

The moment Sauron laid eyes on the DADA teacher, he got the distinct feeling that something was very wrong with him. Well versed in the art of deception, he recognized a disguise when he saw one… and this Mad-Eye Moody definitely wasn’t who he claimed to be. It interested him, but not enough to worry much about it. After all, the man’s classes were far more interesting than his disguise. The Unforgivables, dark spells for torture, murder and mind-control, were demonstrated and studied in detail… Sauron hadn’t thought he would get to see Dark Magic in action in Hogwarts, and the experience was instructive enough for him to want to keep the professor’s disguise a secret for now. They weren’t allowed to practice the Unforgivables, but Sauron did so anyway, just to get the hang of it. He found that they came more naturally to him than even a simple Accio, as their nature was very much in tune with his usual type of magic. Lacking spiders to test on after a while, he put the knowledge away for when he would need it. He was convinced he would need it at some point…

The delegates arrived for the tournament, there was a feast, and Sauron decided for once to pay attention to his housemates. It was then that he heard a young woman with features reminiscent of the people in Khand speak of someone he knew. 
“Cedric is going to put his name in the Goblet, and I’m sure he’s going to be picked. He is everything that should represent our school; loyal, courageous, smart, strong...”
“You’re just saying that because you’re his girlfriend, Cho. I’m sure it will be one of the Slytherin boys, we’ll need some cunning if we are to win from Durmstrang.”
“Why not our own house? Intelligence is important too, and those girls from Beauxbatons won’t rely on muscle and brawl either, I think.” 
“I still think Cedric would be our best option.”
“Yeah, you would.”
“Diggory’s a nice chap and a good seeker, but he’s a Hufflepuff. Hufflepuffs don’t go for glory, I mean, they’re the tamest house.”
“Cedric isn’t tame!”
By then, Sauron understood that the Khandian female was the chosen mate of that annoying Quidditch player Cedric Diggory… Amusing. She bragged about the boy as if he were a prize horse really, urging her friends to place a bet on him. Mortals were so shallow…
For a moment, Sauron remembered mating. He had his fair share of experience in the field, even though he had never quite understood what Men and even Elves thought was so grand about copulation. It was fun, but he could imagine a myriad of more interesting things to do. Mentally he went over his past partners. There had been Tar-Míriel, that one night Númenor’s fate was sealed. Thuringwethil, with whom he had a “sexual work relationship” while at Dol Guldur… A couple incidents featuring sons of Fëanor came to mind as well… And then there had been a couple nameless Elves and Men too, mostly sought out back in the days when he was still in fair disguise and looking for something to pass the time. He had had his share of sexual activities, and honestly he didn’t see why anyone would stay in a long-term arrangement with anyone for it. Even his “thing” with Thuringwethil had only worked because she was useful for more than sexual gratification. No, it was clear that to the mortal races couple forming had its use, but for the Ainur and Eldar it was a completely useless construction. Lost in thought for longer than he had anticipated, Sauron startled when he heard a familiar clear voice.
“Well, are you going to enter your name in the Goblet of Fire, Sauron?”
He looked up at Luna Lovegood and gave her his best “bitch please” look. 
“No, I don’t think I will.”
“Are you not seeking glory and recognition?”
Not necessarily. Power and possession yes, and although those could overlap with glory and recognition, one didn’t necessarily mean the other. 
“No, not really.”
Luna nodded pensively.
“The age line… do you think you could pass it?”
He raised his eyebrows.
“You think I’m underage?”
Luna smiled.
“Oh no, I just wonder if those age line spells have maximum limits as well.”
And with that she turned and left him, annoyed and disturbed with what she had told him. Although, it didn’t disturb him as much as it would have done earlier... Sauron had long given up trying to devise how much Luna actually knew about him; he guessed she was a seer, and that her counsel and knowledge came to her in the moment she spoke it. It was unpleasant, but the Doomsayer of Hogwarts was a whole other caliber of unpleasant for that matter, so he had taken peace with Luna and her naïve advices for now.

Sauron hadn’t thought he would think on the topic of mating again for some time, but strangely enough he found himself contemplating it again that evening. It started with a knock on his door and a timid voice asking,
“Sauron? Nargzab-izg gashnat lat-sha…”
He and Ginny had the unspoken agreement that she would announce herself in Black Speech, so that he wouldn’t accidentally open the door for Precious, who regularly knocked as well. He wondered what had prompted her to come now, though.
“Come in, it’s open.”
Ginny looked a little embarrassed, it seemed. He wondered what she wanted to ask him. For a moment they just stood there, then he gave her a look saying, “What is it now?” They communicated without words a lot… 
“It’s… stupid.”
“If you think so, why are you here?”
“Well… Because…” She looked at her feet. “I have no one else to ask it.”
“Then ask. If it’s stupid I’ll tell you.”
Ginny blushed, and finally said.
“I think I’m in love.”
“What?”
For a moment Sauron feared he had completely missed out on some unfortunate evolution. Then she added, to his relief,
“With Harry Potter. You met him, at the platform.”
Sauron remembered the suspiciously staring black-haired male very well, apparently he was somewhat famous in the school for getting in trouble and, ironically enough, defeating dark lords. He didn’t really see what Ginny could see in him, though; he wasn’t exactly the most attractive male around.
“That one. I remember him. Why are you telling me this?”
“I… I thought… you might have some advice for me. See, it’s stupid, I shouldn’t have asked…”
Internally, Sauron wanted to laugh. He, Sauron the Abhorred and Cruel, giving love advice? It was ridiculous… Yet somehow, for some reason, the ashamed and disappointed look on Ginny’s face didn’t sit well with him.  
“I don’t really see how my advices could be of much help… don’t you have some female friends to talk about with this?”
Ginny shook her head.
“It’s too embarrassing. I would trust Luna with it, but you know her, she’s not the most practical person. You’re the only person I trusted not to ridicule me in front of the whole school for it.”
That made Sauron frown.
“Your friends would do that?”
Ginny shrugged.
“I’m just a Weasley, we’re ridiculed for that alone already. Poor, lots of kids, you know the story. And I’m Luna’s friend, and everyone thinks Luna is crazy. And then… all the girls are jealous because I know “The Harry Potter” personally, if only through my brother. They don’t say it to my face, but they love to hate me.”
It surprised Sauron somewhat. Of course, he had observed the House politics well enough to know about the major groups and the animosity between them, but… with what Ginny told him he realized there was as much intrigue among the students as there had been in the Númenorean court. Perhaps… just perhaps he would be able to help her.
“This Harry Potter… Does he have a preference in females?”
“According to Ron he’s all over Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker. You’ve seen her perhaps, Asian, pretty, a bit of a drama-queen…”
That rang a bell. 
“She is with Cedric Diggory, no?”
“Yeah… She’s with Cedric, Harry wants her, and well… no one notices me. Ever.”
Sauron rolled his eyes at that. They couldn’t expect him to comfort her, could they?
“You’re not really doing anything to get noticed either, so I’m not surprised.”
“What?”
“They’re all in the same crowd. Quidditch players, seekers… You’re not a part of that. And from what I know you’re not standing out in any other way either. There is no reason for Harry to notice you.”
“That’s… harsh.”
“But true, and you know it.”
“Then what am I supposed to do? I’m just who I am!”
“Remember what I told you in summer?”
“Deception, Distraction, Determination?”
“That. It goes for everything. It doesn’t really matter who or what you are, all what matters is what you seem to be. Find out what you must seem to get done what you want to get done, and you’ll succeed.”
Ginny looked at him with unhidden surprise.
“That’s… rather brilliant, actually.”
“Practice makes perfect. Now, I suggest you point your attention at Cedric Diggory.”
“Huh?”
“Men want what they can’t have, they’re greedy like that by nature. This Cho person is interesting to Harry because he can’t have her. You are currently just his friend’s little sister, nothing more. If you manage to steal Diggory from Cho, you’ll get Harry’s attention too, because you’ll be more covetable then than his current interest.”
“Steal Cedric from Cho? But… I can’t do that! I’m far from as pretty as Cho!”
“It’s not what you are, it’s what you seem. Do with it what you will.”
“Right…”
Ginny looked doubtful, but Sauron was sure she would heed his advice. She better, after he did the effort of giving her a strategy. They sat down on the bed and the awkwardness dissipated a bit… 
“Have you ever been in love?”
And it was back again. Sauron felt frustration come up.
“No. And I’m not planning to. Maiar don’t fall in love.”
Ginny cocked her head to the side.
“So, are you saying that you have never…”
He was so not discussing this with a 14-year-old. 
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh my, you are a virgin, no?”
Sauron wanted to crush something now. 
“If you really want to know, no. I am not a virgin. I have had gratification whenever I desired it, and that I don’t fall in love is only practical. I don’t see the use of it. Curiosity satisfied?”
Ginny looked a little surprised.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t tease you.”
“You shouldn’t indeed. It’s very unwise.”
There was a bit of silence, again… Then Ginny remarked.
“You’re right. Falling in love is terrible and I hate it.”
Maybe it was like the Sea-Longing the Elves experienced, Sauron suddenly thought. Simply an unavoidable condition of their race. He didn’t see why they would continue doing it if not for some biological compulsion.
“It’s a thing your species does. You can’t avoid it. All you can do is manage it as practically as possible.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I am.”

The Goblet of Fire picked its candidates, and of course someone had cheated with it, getting Hogwarts two candidates. Sauron wasn’t surprised –he would have cheated too- but apparently everyone else was. Tsss. Either way, he didn’t really mingle in it. He had heard rumors that in previous tournaments students had been eaten alive by monsters, and he was perfectly content watching such entertainment from the sidelines. He did keep an eye on Ginny though, wondering how she would implement his plan… She didn’t waste time with it.
“Well, Cedric… you think you stand a chance?”
“The Goblet chose my name, so I must be worthy.”
Ginny grinned.
“It also picked Harry, remember? Maybe it couldn’t find anyone worthy enough in itself here at Hogwarts, so it needed two people.”
“I refuse to believe that.”
Ginny looked amiable but slightly mocking.
“Well, the other option is that Harry cheated the Goblet, and in that case I don’t think you stand a chance at all. If he has the power to confound such a strong magical object…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but the idea was clear. Cedric frowned angrily.
“Foul play won’t win this tournament, there is no glory in cheating!”
“Tell yourself that... Life isn’t fair though, I’d have thought you’d remember.”
Cedric really looked angry now.
“It’s not because you have no honor that Harry doesn’t have it!”
She shrugged.
“Ah well, we’ll see. Good luck either way, Cedric… you’ll need it.”
With that she walked away. Sauron, who had been observing the conversation, caught her conspiratorial grin. Yes, Ginny Weasley was a good student indeed. Drawing attention not by fawning over but by annoying her target? She would have done fine in the armies of Mordor…

TRANSLATIONS:
“Nargzab-izg gashnat lat-sha…”(I need to talk to you...)


Chapter 10 - Mirrors, Memories, and a speech from Sauron

Chapter 10.
In which mirrors, speeches and memories all serve a common purpose.

Sauron was escaping Precious Nibelungen again, when he found himself in a room he hadn’t been in before. It was empty… apart from a mirror. Suddenly remembering the prophecy, he walked closer to it for inspection. When he looked into it, he audibly gasped. It wasn’t reflecting him; it seemed to be a window in Barad-dûr, looking out over a battlefield. Orcs were everywhere, feasting on dead warriors, the sky was darkened, and there, on some kind of balcony… Sauron saw himself. Black hair blown in the wind, a triumphant look on his face, and on his right hand (that still had all fingers)… the Ring. He couldn’t help but gawk at the strange imagery. Was this a mirror like Galadriel’s, showing images of what was, will be, and could have been? Above the magical glass there was an inscription. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Sauron stared at it, but didn’t recognize a single word.
“I see you have discovered Erised.”
The voice made him startle and turn. Dumbledore stood in the room as well, eyes twinkling as always. Sauron immediately felt trapped.
“I did not hear you enter.”
“That is possible. Tell me, Mr. Gorthaur, what does the Mirror show you?”
Sauron didn’t like the situation, so slightly mocking he reused the headmaster’s sentence.
“My home land. Tell me, Professor Dumbledore… what does this mirror do?”
“I show not your face but your heart's desire.” He glanced at the looking glass. “That is its mirrored inscription, and that is what it does. It shows what you desire over everything else.”
Sauron realized now that indeed, when read in reverse the inscription was simple English, albeit with strange spacing between the words. He looked again at the image of himself surveying the remains of a victorious battle. It stung, seeing what might have happened had he done things right…
“The Mirror of Erised is a dangerous thing, Mr Gorthaur. It holds no prophetic value and shows nothing but empty illusion, yet men and women have spent their lives in front of it in longing.”
“No such thing will happen to me. I am aware enough that its reflection holds no truth. In my world there are objects too that can fool one with false images.”
Dumbledore slowly nodded.
“Erised may be treacherous, but she isn’t entirely useless. She holds many secrets, old magic we don’t even know about anymore. Her foremost use, however…” Dumbledore gave Sauron a piercing look. “Its foremost use is showing the confused or deluded what is truly in their heart. Not all people know that equally well.”
Sauron kept a straight face, but secretly wished the man would stop speaking in riddles. He bluntly asked,
“What does it show you?”
“Myself, holding a new pair of socks. I love socks, but no one ever gives me some.”
Sauron wanted to roll his eyes. The man was lying, he could see and feel it. He didn’t know what the bearded professor did see, but it definitely weren’t socks. Probably himself in a position of power, or something like that; in that aspect all Men were equal…
“You should get going, Mr. Gorthaur. If I’m not mistaken, you have class with Professor Binns now.”
Sauron nodded as politely as he managed, and made his way to the History of Magic classroom, hoping that he wouldn’t run into Precious. He didn’t remember having History so it was probably a ruse from Dumbledore to get him out of the mirror room, but he didn’t really mind leaving there anyway.

History of Magic, taught by Professor Cuthbert Binns, was a subject that never ceased to amaze Sauron. Not only was it taught by a bodiless fëa, it was also exceptionally boring. From what Sauron had read in Ginny’s history books, he would have thought it would be fascinating. He had worked his way through the books all the way up to recent history by now, and he had agreed to follow classes simply out of interest. Needless to say, they had been a grave disappointment. When he entered the History of Magic classroom, he noticed it was Ginny’s year. The ghost looked up and remarked.
“I don’t recall you being in this class, Mr. Gorthaur.”
“Dumbledore told me to follow this class.”
“Have a seat then.”
He wanted to sit down in the back, but Luna got up and pointed him to her now vacant seat next to Ginny. The professor didn’t comment on the exchange, and Ginny seemed happily surprised, waking up from the daze induced by Binns’ monotonous voice. She scribbled something on a piece of parchment and slipped it to him. Using the English alphabet she had phonetically written.
“Dumbledore dargat-lat? Kul push-ishi?” 
Despite her butchering of Black Speech with those strange English letters of her, the note made Sauron smirk. Literally it asked whether he “was in shit” because Dumbledore had sent him there, a not very polite –but grammatically correct- way of asking if everything was okay. He wrote an answer in flowing Tengwar script under it, telling her that no he wasn’t “in shit”, but that she had to stop being lazy and practice her Tengwar. He watched how she struggled to read his handwriting, and eventually answered.
“Za kulat blagh. Mok-izg History of Magic” 
In English characters, which earned her a frown… and another one, when he read the note itself. He didn’t write on the parchment anymore, just answered her out loud.
“History isn’t boring, Ginny. It is important. Your kind does not live long enough to see and remember, so you have to pass on the knowledge of what has happened on to the next generations so they can learn from it.”
“But…”
“No buts. I’m right and you know it.”
Sauron turned to the professor and coughed loudly. The ghost seemed annoyed that he got interrupted again.
“Yes, Mr. Gorthaur?”
“Can I ask the students something?”
“Err…” The ghost looked uncertainly at Sauron… yet, like all ghosts he had a certain insight in things the living wouldn’t understand, which led him to nod. “Go ahead.” 
Now the whole class, including Ginny, looked in amazement at Sauron, who got up from his chair and stood in front of the class.
“Who in this classroom thinks History is boring?”
All hands rose. 
“Does anyone know what history is about?”
Significantly lesser hands… but still, enough. Sauron nodded at a Gryffindor boy.
“Tell me.”
“Err… History is… err… learning facts, and dates?”
“And what is it useful for?”
The boy shrugged, slightly intimidated by Sauron’s suddenly rather ominous presence. 
“I… I don’t really know... Just for our OWL’s, I think.”
Sauron didn’t really know why he had decided to get up and say what he was saying, but he still did.
“History is not facts and figures. History is about people, about wars, about anguish and torture and unexpected strategies. About hope and mistakes and tiny little insignificant details that turn out to be important in the big picture. History is not memorizing dates, it is foremost telling and retelling a story.”
He stopped for a moment, watching the effects of his words on the class. They all seemed both intrigued and dumbstruck by his performance… It made him smirk again; so far so good, he still had it.
“The things that happened in the past determine and make your present and future. Only by knowing and understanding the past, you can understand and control that future. After all, how can you tell where you’re going when you don’t know where you came from?”
He waited just long enough to let it sink in, and then continued.
“The answer is not, because you can’t. Without knowledge of the past, you are all mindless pieces of driftwood in the stream of time, prone to repeat the mistakes of those that went before you.”
With an understanding look at the class, he pointed at Professor Binns.
“I’m not saying you should be interested in his classes. I’m saying that you should be interested in the history of your world. Don’t call it boring…” At that he gave Ginny a pointed look, “Or discard it as only useful to pass tests, because it is the key to understanding life.”
The class was dumbfounded, and no one made a sound. Even after a couple centuries of no practice he was still capable of giving demagogic speeches, apparently. The silence was broken by Ginny, who had gotten up and started clappeing for him. The whole class eventually followed her example, and Sauron left the class with a standing ovation. It was rather comical, and… well, awkward. Very awkward. Outside, Sauron wondered why he had felt the need to speech in front of a bunch of mortals about the importance of history lessons… It had been completely useless and out of character for him. Maybe he was losing his mind. No, more likely he had lost his mind already a while ago, and was this whole world the work of his delirious fëa. Disconcertingly possible, but it wasn’t as if he could do anything about it. Grumbling, he returned to the Ravenclaw Commonroom, vainly wondering why his sick mind couldn’t just have thrown him into a world where he was the almighty despot.

Later at night, Sauron lay awake and pondered over his little speech. There was certainly truth in what he had said; one like him didn’t have to learn history because he had been in the middle of everything throughout the ages, but a mortal had no other option than to rely on the knowledge the previous generation passed on. And knowledge of past events was important, after all history had a tendency of repeating itself. He used to think that was because in Middle-Earth, history tended to feature the same people every time, but judging from what he had seen of this world’s history, it was a general trait. That didn’t explain why he had felt the need to spread this opinion in the middle of the class, though. Hadn’t he purposefully kept himself out of most things here at Hogwarts? 
Why had he done it? He went over the various possibilities, including him being crazy in the Void and imagining everything, this new world being an illusion the Valar used to punish him, and simply him going crazy from all the unexplainable and bizarre things this world had to offer. None of the options was very attractive… Sauron knew that he had no way to find out for sure which one it was, so he discarded the thought. Instead, he started thinking about his own past.
As always when he thought about his past, the memories of Númenor returned. This time he wasn’t going to just sit there and relive them, though. He wanted to know why it was always that memory, always that scene that came to mind. He had a fair share of painful defeats for his subconscious to pick from, why always Númenor? 
His own words came to mind. To control the future one has to understand the past. And so, Sauron thought long and deeply about the Drowning and his role in it, suppressing inadvertent shudders at the memory of the great wave. The greater part of the night had already passed in unpleasant reminiscence, when all of a sudden the words of that blasted Hat came to mind. 
“Mairon is a beautiful name, by the way. Too bad you don’t use it anymore…”
And that was it, Sauron suddenly realized. All the way up to Númenor he had still somewhat thought of himself as Mairon, although he didn’t use the name anymore. No matter what alias he used, that had been how he defined himself. After losing his fair disguise however, he had never again thought of himself as “Admirable”. Sauron still didn’t quite grasp the real importance of said event, though. Why did he keep remembering it? A name couldn’t be that important, could it? It was nearing dawn when he finally fell asleep, dreaming of unpleasant things he couldn’t remember the next morning…

TRANSLATIONS:
“Dumbledore dargat-lat? Kul push-ishi?” (Dumbledore sends you? Are you in shit/trouble?)
“Za kulat blagh. Mok-izg History of Magic” (This is boring. I hate History of Magic)


Chapter 11 - Dragons, candy, and an event that leaves Sauron shell-shocked

Chapter 11.
In which there are dragons, candy, and an event that leaves Sauron shell-shocked.

Dragons. The first “task” of the tournament had dragons. Sauron was delighted. The beasts weren’t near the size and intelligence of the dragons he had known in the War of Wrath, but they were impressive and even magnificent in their own right. The candidates were each expected to steal a golden egg from a dragon, and Sauron was already full of expectation for the show he would surely get. Stealing treasure from a dragon was dangerous and prone to fail… 
It turned out to be interesting to watch, although not as amusing as he had hoped. None of the contestants got eaten or scorched to ashes, so in that way it was almost disappointing. On the other hand, the risky flying of Harry Potter and the skirt-on-fire incident of Fleur Delacour somewhat made up for the lack of bloody messes. 
“He was great, don’t you think? He’s tied for first place at the moment!”
Sauron rolled his eyes at Ginny’s talking.
“I am willing to assist you with your “issue”, Ginny, but don’t fawn over it all the time, it’s annoying. Don’t fawn over it at all, preferably.”
“Wait until you fall in love yourself.”
“It would be a true waste of time to wait for something that won’t ever happen.”
“We’ll see. Do you have dress robes already?”
“Dress Robes?”
Sauron hoped he wouldn’t be expected to wear a dress. After all, you never knew. Ginny grinned.
“Yeah, for the Yule Ball! I can’t believe you didn’t know, it’s all everyone has been talking about lately!”
“I am not everyone. And to answer your question, no I do not have Dress Robes already.”
“We can buy them in Hogsmeade tomorrow, don’t worry. You’ll just have to ask Dumbledore for your allowance then.”
Great. Facing that Olórin-like wizard with his twinkling eyes, again, to ask for money to buy a dress. Life is great, Sauron thought sarcastically.

Dress robes for men weren’t actual dresses, and that was a great relief. To his surprise Sauron even found that he liked the completely black outfit Ginny had helped him pick. The Hogsmeade trip as a whole had been a confusing affair though, especially when Ginny had insisted they would buy sweets. She had bought lots of different things, and urged him to taste everything… with as a result that he didn’t think he would ever again trust confectionaries. There had been chewy beans that tasted like ash and earwax, some kind of nut-shaped candy he was certain had moved in his mouth, sugary things that had actually exploded when he bit them, and last but not least red things on sticks that tasted like blood when he licked them. Sauron didn’t see why anyone would voluntarily eat things like that… although he had enjoyed the “Blood Pops”, much to Ginny’s amazement. All in all it had been another strange experience to add to his ever-growing list. Ginny had had great fun –and he was quite certain it had been at his expense sometimes- but he found that he couldn’t get angry about it. He had glared and rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath, but that was mostly for show; Ginny Weasley was in an advantageous position for the moment, her being the only person in the whole of Hogwarts that didn’t annoy him within ten seconds. Sauron suspected that it was a force of habit; she had pestered him whole summer long and now he had gotten so used to her brand of annoyingness that it didn’t annoy him as much anymore. Either way, the trip had been successful and that was all that mattered.
When they went back to Hogwarts, they met Dumbledore in the Great Hall. The man smiled amiably at them, but Sauron immediately felt uncomfortable.
“Ah, Miss Weasley, Mr Gorthaur… I was waiting for you two.”
“Oh?”
Ginny seemed surprised at well. The old wizard –although no one was really old around Sauron- gave them his usual piercing look.
“I trust you have found everything you need?”
“Yes, we have completed our purchases.”
“Very good. I simply meant to tell you, Mr. Gorthaur, that Professor Sinistra believes tonight will be sufficiently cloudless for your test. You are expected in the Astronomy Tower at nightfall. As for you, Miss Weasley, could you follow me to my office?”
With an uncertain look at Sauron, Ginny followed Dumbledore, leaving the Maia on his own in the great hall. He didn’t trust it, but suppressed the urge to follow them. He had to read up on some astronomy…

“Well, Miss Weasley. Can I please you with a lemon drop?”
“No, thank you, professor. Is… is something wrong?”
“Oh, no, not at all… I wanted to talk with you about your friend, Mr. Gorthaur.”
Ginny fought the need to roll her eyes. What was it with everyone warning her for Sauron? It wasn’t as if he was an evil dark lord bent on destroying the world, or anything. She hesitated a moment. Okay, she wasn’t out of that yet, but so far he hadn’t given her reason to think that he wanted to kill or destroy anything in this world. 
“What about him?”
“How would you describe him?”
“Err… he’s really smart… I wasn’t surprised that he got into Ravenclaw. A little grumpy sometimes, but nothing bad. Did he do something wrong?”
“I’m simply curious. As I told your parents, we don’t get a guest from another world every day. I heard that he had taught you his language…”
“Oh, just… a couple words. Nothing special, really. Hello, goodbye, that sort of things.”
Ginny really didn’t want to share her Black Speech lessons with Dumbledore. Normally she was rather fond of the headmaster, but apparently Sauron’s paranoia rubbed off on her. She hoped he wouldn’t try to read her mind or anything.
“I see. I think it is very good you two have made friends...”
“Really?”
“Of course. Acclimatizing always goes better when you have a friend to support you. Tell me, Miss Weasley… Has Mr. Gorthaur told you anything about his homeworld?”
Yes, but she wasn’t planning on telling him about that. 
“No, he’s very reserved about that. He hasn’t told me anything, except that it’s a little medieval and stuff. Horses being the main method of transportation and things like that.”
She supposed the headmaster had already guessed that from Sauron’s reactions to some things, so she didn’t think it mattered if she told him that. 
“Aha. Should he tell you something that would… shock you… Miss Weasley… can I trust you to come to me?”
“Of course, Professor.”
“Very well, you can go.”
Ginny left the office with an uncomfortable feeling. Perhaps Sauron was right to mistrust the headmaster… 

That evening, Sauron went to the Astronomy Tower. The sky was still clouded, but an appointment was an appointment and he wasn’t going to give that blasted headmaser more reason to mistrust him. The Tower was the tallest in Hogwarts, and it took him a while to get all the way to the top. When he got there, he heard a strange singing voice. Slowly he approached the door, making as little noise as possible. The singing wasn’t English, or any of the languages he had heard the delegates of other schools speak, and somehow he could feel there was power in the music. Ainur magic was conveyed through song, and even though this was very different the resemblance was there. It made him shiver…
Sauron carefully pushed open the door. The Astronomy Tower was a circular room, and large magical machinery that showed the progression of the planets stood in the middle of it. The singing resounded more clearly now, but he couldn’t see anyone… until he looked through one of the large windows. On a platform outside, a figure was dancing. Spellbound, he walked closer.
It was a woman, and she was dancing in a circle of symbols, a whirlwind of golden-brown velvet and rustling scarves. Sauron couldn’t see her very well, but either way he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her bright, deep voice sang words he couldn’t translate; yet while he listened to it he felt that he understood, not consciously but with something in his fëa… He could have listened to it for hours, but suddenly the magical strength of the music increased and the woman fell to her knees in the middle of the circle. Sauron saw how the clouds cleared, quickly, as if they had been commanded to dissipate. A circle of starry sky grew larger and larger above the platform. She had ordered the sky to clear…
Not entirely certain of himself, he opened the door to the platform. He disliked the stars, they reminded him of the Elves, they reminded him of the Valar, and he always felt spied on by Varda when walking under the stars. There was a reason Mordor was always clouded… It didn’t stop him from approaching the woman though. She heard his footsteps and got up, and Sauron received a second surprise when she turned. Her skin was dark. “Dark like the scorched earth of Mordor”, it went through his mind. He couldn’t help but stare. She was tall, although a little smaller than him, and even in the dark of night he could tell that she had a beautifully chiseled face. An unusual face perhaps, and different from the facial features of most women here, but nevertheless beautiful. He didn’t know why he thought about that, but he did. With her bright, slightly accented voice she asked.
“Ah, you must be Sauron Gorthaur.”
“Yes.”
“I see you’ve watched me prepare the classroom.”
“Yes… I haven’t seen magic such as that here before.”
The woman smiled mysteriously.
“Ah yes, that is true. The magic of song isn’t taught at Hogwarts. It is considered to be dark by some.”
“But you still practice it.”
“It pained me too much after a while to have to cancel all my classes. I don’t think we’ve ever had such a cloudy winter before...” She gave him a pointed look. “Do clouds follow your step, perhaps?”
Sauron didn’t know what to say.
“I… I have found that they do, sometimes. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
Mentally he yelled at himself. What? Why are you apologizing? Why are you even telling her that? The professor didn’t seem to notice.
“I am Professor Sinistra, but I suppose you knew that already. You can call me Sinistra.”
“Only if you call me Sauron.”
“Of course.” She looked up at the sky, which seemed lit up by hundreds of little fiery needlepoints. “Tell me, does your world have stars?”
It was the first time that one of the teachers outright asked him after his world… and he couldn’t resist to answer.
“Yes. We have stars too...”
Sinistra nodded slowly.
“Come, sit with me. Tell me where to look for your stars, then we’ll see if the constellations are the same.”
And Sauron sat down with her on the stone platform engraved with symbols, and peered at the sky. The sky was very different; there were constellations he had never seen before.
“I don’t think there is any resemblance.”
“Don’t be too quick to judge, Sauron. You resemble us enough for your world to carry a likeness of ours… why wouldn’t the same go for the stars?”
The longer he watched the night sky, the darker it became and the more stars he could see. He felt as if she had bewitched him somehow, he just couldn’t properly get a hold of himself… Sinistra installed her telescope and urged him to see through it. 
“There, that is Mars. It’s not a star, it’s a planet.”
Through the lenses of the telescope, he recognized the bright reddish light, much to his surprise.
“Carnil. We call that one Carnil.”
“See that there is a resemblance?”
She showed him the stars, and although there were many constellations he didn’t recognize, sometimes a similarity hit him. So also when Sinistra pointed her lenses at one particular constellation.
“This is Ursa Major, the Great Bear. Also called the Big Dipper.”
And Sauron recognized it. 
“Valacirca…” He whispered. 
Valacirca, or the Sickle of the Valar, had been Varda’s warning for his old master Melkor, a reminder of the prophecies of Námo that foretold his downfall. How he had hated that constellation… He gritted his teeth, which caused the professor to respond.
“It is a bad omen in your world?”
“You… you could say that.”
He had felt anger rise at the sight of the offending stars, but when Sinistra spoke it just… faded again. She must have somehow put a spell on him, he thought. 
“My people have stories about the stars too. In the country where I was born we see different stars than these though. It is said that the creators of the world had light to spare after they lit up the world, and that’s what they made the stars from, to remind the people of the light of day. The stars tell us that the sun will rise again no matter how dark the night.”
“Beacons of hope.”
“Exactly. You don’t sound convinced? Aren’t the stars hopeful in your world?”
“They are reminders of doom that is to come. I wouldn’t call them hopeful.”
“Ah… I believe in doom too, but I dislike the word. Fate, I would call it. Some things will happen either way, but how, why and with who isn’t defined yet.”
The whole situation was bizarre, Sauron decided. He felt oddly relaxed, and it was pleasant and unnerving at the same time. The woman next to him looked at him and her dark eyes glittered in the starlight when he asked.
“Your song-magic… if it isn’t taught here, where did you learn it?”
“I am a Sangoma, a shamaness of my people, like my mother and my grandmother before me. The magic of song and dance is in my blood through them, and their knowledge passed on to me.” She waited a moment. “Does your world have song-magic?”
“It… it does. We believe that the world was created through song. The Ainulindale, it was named, the song of creation.”
The Ainulindale had been the most profound, most important event in his entire long life… and he had just told this strange dark woman about it, just like that. He hadn’t even told Ginny that! Sauron didn’t know what was wrong with him…
“That is beautiful…  It must have been a joy to hear.”
The memory stung, no, burned when it came to mind again, and it made him want to curl up and cry. Then he felt a soft hand touch his, and somehow the pain of remembering lessened. Sinistra didn’t speak; she just watched the sky, her fingers lightly touching his. Sauron didn’t know how much time passed, it felt as if the whole of time just stopped in that instant. Finally the professor said,
“The morning is coming in two hours… You are free to stay here as long as you like, but I have to go to my quarters now. You have passed your test; I would like to tutor you myself. Same time, same place, next week.”
With that Sinistra got up and walked away, her velvet robes shimmering. The bizarre spell that had brought him such calm appeared to break when she closed the door behind her, leaving Sauron in confusion. What did this mean? What had she done to him? He stayed on the platform until daybreak, watching how the rising sun colored the sky red…

(Author's Apologies)
On the topic of Professor Sinistra:
Sangomas are African healers, also known as shamans. They actually exist. I am using various things of south african traditional religion for Sinistra's character. I mean no offense towards people who adhere to this religion or one of its derivates, and I apologize for all mistakes I may make in my explanation of it. Sinistra comes from an african wizarding village, so I suppose that their interpretation of the religion would be different anyway (normally one of a Sangoma's tasks is to protect against witchcraft, after all.)


Chapter 12 - Intrigue, manipulation, and Sauron redesigns a dress.

Chapter 12.
In which there is intrigue and manipulation, and Sauron redesigns a dress.

Sauron couldn’t explain what had happened during the astronomy lesson, and frankly he didn’t want to contemplate it. Instead, he focused on Ginny’s “issue”, which was slowly taking amusing proportions. She hadn’t needed a lot of instruction; getting Cedric worked up came to her effortlessly. Having a lot of older brothers had taught her well in the art of annoyance… She had certainly gotten her attention; Diggory was apparently notoriously likeable and hard to anger, but Ginny had managed to both quirk his interest and antipathy. Sauron couldn’t help but take a certain amount of pride in it…
“So, now he looks at me. And avoids me at the same time. He’s really acting weird.”
“Perfect.” 
“What?”
“Always keep your goal in mind. Diggory is a ruse, not your actual target. You don’t necessarily need to start something with him, you only need to give people -more specifically Potter and Cho Chang- the idea that there is something between you two, and that you are doing perfectly. How do you think it looks to Cho when she notices you and Cedric chat in a corner from time to time, but also sees that he blatantly ignores and even avoids you in public?”
“She would know that’s just because I annoy the crap out of him.”
Sauron shook his head, smirking,
“Tsss… Do you really think he would dirty his image of “noble and super-likable” in front of his girlfriend? No, Cho doesn’t know anything about the enmity between you two. No one does and he is anxious to keep it that way.”
Ginny’s eyes widened.
“Well, in that case… It definitely looks suspicious.”
“Exactly. Now, for the Yule Ball, Cedric will go with Cho. But I can make sure there will be a lot of doubt surrounding that…”
“Really?”
“Also, Harry will probably ask you to the Ball. From what I’ve noticed he isn’t interested in any girl except for Cho, and you as his best friend’s sister just make a nice stand-in for when she will refuse him. You have to refuse him as well.”
“But… I’m just third year, I’m not invited to the ball without a date…”
“You’ll go with me.”
“Really?”
“Stop asking that, it’s annoying. You should know by now that I usually mean what I say to you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And don’t apologize.”
“Sor…” An eyeroll from Sauron shut Ginny up. “Right.”
“Just wait and see.”
It was childish, stupid, borderline pathetic and a whole other bunch of derogatory adjectives, Sauron thought… but he found unexpected pleasure in mingling in Ginny’s love life. He told himself it was a way to keep his skills sharp for when there would be an actual important thing to do… but deep down he knew that he just did it because he thought it was fun. Which was an unusual admission, as he hadn’t considered anything “fun” in years. “Amusing” was the farthest he had ever come… 
For the final part of the plan, he was going to need the help of the most annoying Ravenclaw ever: Precious Nibelungen. Sauron didn’t look forward to it, but for once it seemed that the excruciatingly cheerful prefect would serve a purpose… 
It didn’t take long before he found her… or better, she found him, all he had to do really was stay in the same place long enough. 
“Oh Sauron! Where have you been, I missed you!”
“Right. Precious. How are you.”
He just couldn’t bring himself not to sound like a convict walking to his execution, but it didn’t seem to matter for Precious. She shot him a sparking smile.
“I’m great! How are you? Do you already have a date for the Yule Ball?”
“Well, about that…”
“Oh, I would love to go with you, you know!”
Sauron suppressed a shudder and did his best Annatar-Is-Innocent look.
“As I said, about that… I can’t.”
Precious’ eyes widened a bit, and for a moment her cheerfulness faltered a little.
“But… Everyone said…”
“I have promised to go with a friend. You know, Ginny Weasley. The one she hoped would ask her didn’t, and it would be too sad if she couldn’t go to the Ball…”
Precious got a conspiratorial look in her eyes; she loved gossip.
“Oh, then who did she hope would ask her?”
“Well, I’m not supposed to tell you…”
“You can trust me, you know that! I would never betray a secret! I don’t betray people, it’s just not in my nature!”
Sure, Sauron thought. You’re only the biggest gossip in Ravenclaw…
“You’re right, you wouldn’t tell anyone. She hoped Cedric Diggory would ask her.”
Precious’ eyes were really wide now.
“You mean the rumors are true? She has something with Cedric?”
“It’s not for me to tell, really. I don’t know all that much about it anyway.”
Precious grinned.
“Well, I know he hasn’t asked Cho either yet. His friends say he wants to make it really romantic… but you know… maybe he’s just doubting who to ask…”
“That is possible indeed…”
“So, if he asked her, you would go with me?”
“Of course.”
Precious let out a little squeak.
“Awesome! You should see my dress, it’s amazing!”
“I will see it at the Ball then. I have to go now.”
“Sure, bye Sauron!”
He walked away, and watched how Precious skipped back into the Ravenclaw common room, probably looking for Cho Chang to tell her everything he had told her. Predictable… Ginny really owed him; he would never be rid of that annoying girl now…

Ginny was the unexpected witness of something private. Cedric Diggory, holding a beautiful bouquet of cherry blossoms. Where he had gotten those in this season she didn’t know, but they must have cost him a small fortune… 
“Cho… I love you. Would you go to the Yule Ball with me?”
The pretty Asian girl didn’t respond as expected. She frowned at the flowers.
“Right, bringing me pricy flowers. Feeling guilty over something?”
“Cho! What… what is wrong?”
“You know damn well what is wrong. Ginevra Weasley, that is what’s wrong! How dare you cheat on me with that underage harlot! She’s a fucking child still!”
“Cho, I would never cheat on you, never! You know how girls are, they all hang around me since the Tournament, it means nothing.”
“I know how you treat your fangirls, and this is different! You avoid her at all cost when I’m with you, and when you think I can’t see you’re whispering to each other in some corner!”
“That… I hate her! She’s the most annoying girl ever!”
“Right. First it meant nothing, and now she’s suddenly the most annoying girl ever. Can you blame me for not believing you?”
“Cho, please! I… I didn’t… You are my love, my only one! You are the only one in my heart and I couldn’t care less about Ginny Weasley! It’s all rumors! Please let me make it up to you, let me take you to the Yule Ball and show everyone that you are the one I love!”
The honesty and despair in his eyes and voice was undeniable, and even Ginny thought it was adorable. Cho couldn’t resist, and took the flowers from him.
“Fine. I will give you one other chance. Screw it up, and we’re over.”
“Oh Cho… I love you.”
“I love you too, but you hurt me. Please don’t ever do that again.”
They hugged and kissed, and when Cedric left, Cho took notice of Ginny eavesdropping on them. With large strides she walked to her.
“You! How dare you spy on me! You almost ruined everything for us!” She bent really close to Ginny and growled dangerously, “But tell you what, bitch? He’s mine. Look at him again and you’re dead.”
With that the Asian walked away, caressing her pretty pink flowers. Ginny couldn’t help but chuckle. Sauron Gorthaur, she thought, you are absolutely brilliant. That man –or Maia- was so cunning… How had he not gotten in Slytherin?

“Ginny!”
“Oh, hi Harry! How are you?”
“I’m fine… I… err… Ginny, can I ask you something?”
Internally Ginny smirked. Strike two for team Sauron… 
“Sure.”
“Would you go to the Yule Ball with me?”
Normally she would have jumped at the opportunity, but she trusted Sauron’s judgment. 
“No, I’m already going with someone else. Sorry.”
“Are you… are you going with Cedric?”
“No, with Sauron.”
“Ginny… That guy, he is…”
“A good friend. Now if you would excuse me?”
Ginny could feel Harry’s eyes in her back when she walked away. She didn’t know what Sauron’s plan was exactly… but so far everything was going according to it. She had definitely caught Harry’s attention this time…

The day of the Yule Ball arrived, and Sauron found three gifts at the foot end of his bed, neatly wrapped in colorful paper. Mistrustingly he had eyed and then poked them… and then finally, he had opened them. The first one came from Ginny, and contained a book titled “The Industrial Revolution”. Inside stuck a card that read, 
“This is a Muggle book, but I had the feeling you would like it. Happy Yuletide! Ginny”
The second was an obnoxious pink card with lots of bows on the outside and a picture of Precious Nibelungen in a very glittery dress on the inside, stating that she had promised to show him her Yule Ball outfit in advance. He threw it aside in disgust…
The third present was the largest, and contained… a large sketchpad with thick white parchment, and a box of crayons. The note read, 
“So you can draw your worries out. Love, Luna”
He had never actually gotten a gift, let alone more than one. Maiar didn’t do Midwinter, or Yule, or birthdays, or any other gift-giving feast the rest of Arda participated in… and in all honestly there had never really been anyone who would have wanted to give him a gift anyway, feast or not. He looked in wonder at the things he had gotten… It was strangely pleasant to know that at least in this world people had wanted to give him something without a hidden agenda...
“Sauron, kul fûthûrz?” 
He opened the door for Ginny, who grinned at him and exclaimed.
“Happy Yuletide!”
“You are too cheerful. Go away.”
She chuckled.
“Did you like the gift?”
“It was appreciated.”
That caused a smirk. 
“Dad got it and sent it to me…”
“Right… Ginny, why are you here, in the morning?”
“Err…”
“You have something to ask me, so just ask.”
“Well…” Sauron took notice of the bag Ginny was holding. “I have a problem with my dress robes.”
“What is it?”
“I… don’t think they’re suitable.”
“And what am I supposed to do about that?”
He caught her pleading look.
“Let me guess, you have no one else to ask.”
Ginny looked at her shoes.
“Sort of…”
He was the Dark Lord Sauron. He did not redesign dresses! There was no way he was going to do this; he was the menace of Middle-Earth for Eru’s sake! He was just going to send her away. 

“Turn around.”
“And?”
“Bolb… Za grugulum kulat drît kûf…”
Ginny frowned.
“It’s that bad?”
“I wouldn’t dress my worst enemy in this.”
Although, those hobbits in copies of Ginny’s pink-and-green dress with large lapels and voile would make an amusing sight… especially if they would be forced to entertain his Orcs. He shook his head.
“It is ugly. Tîmûrz. Who combines pink and green anyway? And with red hair… Tsss…” 
“Is there anything you can do?”
There was the pleading look again. Sauron wanted to hit himself, but didn’t. Instead he observed the dress. It was long, with a poufy pink skirt covered with green voile, a bright pink bodice, and large glittery green lapels with lace. He then gave Ginny a pointed stare.
“Just so you know, I have done a lot of things in my life, but redesigning dresses was not among those. If it gets messed up I hold no responsibility.”
“Sure. It can’t really become worse than this.”
Sauron raised an eyebrow and threw her the card with Precious’ pic. Ginny watched it and shook her head.
“Fine, it can become worse. Try not to mess it up.”
He walked a few circles around the dress, and tried to recall some female dresses from Middle Earth. They certainly hadn’t been outfitted with lapels… He checked the layers of fabric in the skirt, internally beheading Orcs, and made a decision.
“The biggest problem this dress has is the color. So, I’m going to try and recolor it.”
“You can do that?”
“Maybe.”
In the Charms textbook there was a spell to make a rat change color; Sauron was pretty sure that what worked on rats also worked on dresses. A little later both Ginny and the dress were black.
“I really hope you know a counter-spell.”
“You should have taken the dress off first.”
“Nice to tell me that now, smartass!”
“Don’t complain. I can also just leave you like this.”
“Urgh.”
A little later, Ginny wasn’t tinted black anymore, and Sauron stood bent over the dress. 
“You know, this dress makes you look even tinier than usual.”
“Thanks for the compliment Sauron.”
Ginny sarcastically said.
“It’s true. I think I’m going to cut a piece from it.”
Women on Middle-Earth didn’t just show off their legs, but he had seen in Hogsmeade that many of the female dress robes only reached the knee. He would have interpreted it very vulgar, but apparently it was considered normal in this world. After all, the skirts girls wore here were also ridiculously short. Ginny put the dress on again, and he proficiently cut it knee-length. 
“Well, I think this is the most I can do.”
For a first time, the result wasn’t bad… The dress had been pompous at first, but now that it was black and short, the lapels and glitter actually looked… cute. Internally, Sauron slapped himself. He did not just think that. 
“There’s a mirror in the bathroom.”
Ginny went in, and squealed.
“You’re awesome! It looks so grown up now!”
“That sound definitely wasn’t grown up. Spare my ears, will you.”
“How long does the spell hold?”
“I don’t know. A day, two maybe. Flitwick said that eventually those rats change back again too, so I don’t think it’s permanent.”
“Well, as long as it stays okay during the Ball I’m happy!”
Sauron slowly shook his head. He had redesigned a dress. His dark lord pride was severely injured right now. Suddenly a memory of the Nazgûl returning to Minas Morgul stark naked and in need of new cloaks came to mind… He had mocked the Witch King –who had been in charge of the cloak making- and the lord of the Nazgûl had grumbled and said that one day he would be in the same situation. Apparently the Witch King had been right… Yet still. He had redesigned a dress, and it didn’t look awful. Maybe he should have been one of Vairë’s Maiar… No, he did not just think that. This world was really bad for his mental composure…

TRANSLATIONS:
“Sauron, kul fûthûrz?” (Sauron, are you there?)
“Bolb… Za grugulum kulat drît kûf…” (Disaster... This dress is really ugly)
"Tîmûrz" (Terrible)


Chapter 13 - Resistance is futile, and other important lessons.

Chapter 13.
In which resistance is futile, and more than one thing gets cleared up for Sauron.

Ginny felt as if everyone stared at her when she entered the Great Hall. With the redesigned dress, sheer black stockings, a pair of borrowed shoes, and her red hair loosely over her shoulders she looked completely different from usual. Not to mention that she came in on Sauron’s arm; the Maia had a strange way of drawing attention by simply being present. It had probably something to do with him being tall and intimidating. He was impressed with the decorations, apparently. 
“This is… very interesting. That is not real snow, is it?”
“Magical snow. It disappears before touching anything.”
“I see.”
Sauron’s eye passed over the people, and then, it fell on Professor Sinistra. She wore a golden-brown gown that shimmered a bit when she moved, and a hooded cape of the same fabric over it. Her sleeves were long, a simple golden belt accentuated her waist, and her hair was caught in a thick black braid that lay draped over her shoulder. With her dark skin and warm aura she seemed out of place in the winter landscape…
“Earth to Sauron, you’re staring.”
Disturbed, he looked at Ginny.
“What?”
“You were staring. At professor Sinistra.”
“I was not.”
“And denial is a river in Egypt…”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. Inside joke for earthlings.”
“If you continue to annoy me I’ll be obliged to turn your dress purple with yellow polka dots. Or better, make it disappear.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Willing to bet?”
“Err… no, rather not.”
“Then don’t pester me. I wasn’t staring.”
He had been staring; he knew it well enough. There was something about Sinistra that made him lose coherence, and he didn’t know what it was. Sauron concentrated on Cedric and Cho instead, fighting the urge to follow the dark-skinned woman with his eyes.
“Do you want to dance?”
“Do I look like it?”
“No, not really.”
“Well then.”
“I’m going to say hi to Hermione and Harry, okay?”
“Go ahead.”
And so Ginny left Sauron alone to greet her friends. The moment she left, he realized he had no defense against Precious Nibelungen now… he hoped he was looking inconspicuous enough for her not to notice him. Admittedly, his chances were slight…

Hermione had come to the Ball with Victor Krum, whom Ginny admired greatly for his Quidditch talent. He turned out to be very friendly, and after she had congratulated him and wished him luck, he left them so she could talk with Hermione in private.
“Ginny, it’s been ages! I never see you anymore since you’re hanging around with that Sauron guy! You don’t have something with him, do you?”
“Don’t worry, we’re just friends… So, you and Krum?”
“Just friends too. He’s really sweet though.”
“He’s quite the catch…”
“At least someone thinks so, the boys are being completely irrational about it all.”
“Oh?”
“Well, Ron asked me as a second option, and I refused. Victor had already asked me, and I like being someone’s first option, you know? So now he’s all angry, you know him well enough.”
“Yeah, that sounds like my brother.”
“And then you, Gin, you’ve caused quite some trouble with Harry too! There were all those rumors about you and Cedric Diggory having an affair under Cho’s nose, and suddenly it was all Ginny this, Ginny that, have you seen Ginny, what is Ginny doing… By the way, is there anything between you and Diggory?”
“No, it’s complete nonsense. But don’t tell anyone I told you, I think it’s rather amusing.”
“Ginny!”
“He’s such a goody-two-shoes, you should have seen him when Cho gave him a tongue lashing! Hi-la-ri-ous!”
“That’s cruel, Gin!”
“It was funny, can I help it? It’s Sauron’s sense of humor rubbing off on me.”
“About him. Are you sure it’s smart to hang with him? He’s really a whole lot older…”
You have no idea how much exactly, Ginny thought.
“As I said, I’m not in love with him or anything, we’re just friends.”
“Good, because I think Harry has a thing for you. He was really down after you rejected him. And he kept going on about Sauron being a dark wizard, practically more than Ron ranted about Krum!”
“I like being second choice as much as you.”
“And you’re right. We deserve being first choice.”
Meanwhile, Sauron had caught sight of Precious Nibelungen in a dress with lots of little golden mirrors on it, and he was desperately looking for someone to hide behind. It was ridiculous, but that girl brought up his most childish behavior… When a familiar blonde passed him, he swallowed his pride and he grabbed her shoulder, right when Precious apparently caught sight of him. Urgently he pleaded,
“Luna! Please dance with me. Quickly.”
Obediently the girl smiled and pulled him to the dance floor.
“Running from an admirer, Sauron?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Something like it. Just so you know, I know nothing of your world’s dances.”
“Improvise, you’ll be okay.”
And they improvised. Sauron felt more awkward than ever, managing to avoid stepping on feet but still moving very rigidly. They had been at it for only a couple minutes, when Luna casually remarked,
“You shouldn’t dance with me.”
“What?”
“It’s almost completely dark outside now. Perfect for stargazing.”
And unexpectedly, she pushed Sauron away. He lost his balance and stumbled against… Professor Sinistra, of all people. The woman looked at him with those obsidian eyes, and smiled. He apologized.
“Excuse me, Professor Sinistra.”
“Just Sinistra will do, Sauron. No need to be so formal.”
He couldn’t find his words. He, the great deceiver, couldn’t find his words.
“Err…”
She gently took his hand.
“Let us dance.”
And they danced. As awkward as he had felt pulling and pushing Luna Lovegood over the dancefloor, so natural came dancing with Sinistra. She smiled and he was helpless. The simple touch of her hands stopped the ceaseless running in circles that his thoughts usually performed, and it was as if he knew the steps he had to take without thinking about it. They danced, and everything just felt like… like it was as it should be.

“Is that Sauron dancing with Professor Sinistra?”
“I knew it! He was already staring at her when we entered!”
“But she’s a professor!”
“Sauron isn’t exactly your ordinary student, is he?”
“True… but still.”
Ginny chuckled.
“I think it’s cute. He said he would never fall in love… I am so never going to let him live this down…”
“You think he’s in love with her?”
“Just see how he looks at her. I didn’t think he was even capable of looking like that… Totally mellowed out, really.”
Hermione and Ginny watched how Sauron danced with Sinistra, and they had to admit they made an elegant pair. Sauron with his long black hair and dark outfit, and Sinistra in her golden dress…  Suddenly they noticed the pair left the dance floor and in hand, and snuck out of the Great Hall. Ginny raised eyebrows.
“Now he doesn’t waste time, does he?”
“You don’t actually think they’re going to snog in a cupboard, do you?”
“No. It’s Sauron, not Lavender Brown. Whatever he does, it won’t be what you expect.”
“Right...”

They were standing on the platform outside the Astronomy Tower again, and Sauron wondered what was happening to him. Behind him, the clear voice of Sinistra resounded.
“Am I not a discordant note in the celestial symphony, thanks to voracious Irony, who shakes and bites me at the throat?”
With a shock he turned.
“What?”
“Baudelaire, a Muggle poet. Last time we saw each other, you spoke of music creating the universe, and it reminded me of one of his poems.”
Sauron recalled the line she had read.
“It is… strangely accurate.”
“Poetry has that potential, sometimes.”
They sat down on the platform, and Sinistra looked at the stars. Sauron did so too, and saw that her eyes rested on Valacirca, or Ursa Major as it was called here. Without turning her gaze away she softly asked, no, commanded almost.
“Tell me of your world.”
“Once I lived in a tower far higher than this one… yet I could never see the stars.”
“That’s a shame. The view must have been amazing though.”
“It was.” Sauron remembered his period as a giant lidless eye, and realized that in all the time he had looked out over everything, not once had he appreciated the view. But now he remembered it… well, it had indeed been rather magnificent. 
“I never appreciated it much when I still lived there…”
“What did your lands look like?”
Sauron sought a suitable term to describe Mordor, one that wouldn’t sound too ominous or frightening. He didn’t find one… and for some reason he felt inclined to tell the truth.
“They are dark. There are many mountain ranges, and mines full of valuable ores and precious gems. The soil is black as your skin, Sinistra, and underneath it flows liquid fire, magma that once heated my forges. The sky is always clouded, and volcanic activity has covered the ground in ashes and polluted the rivers. Mordor, my land… is the darkest place of Arda.”
Sinistra didn’t seem taken aback, not even the slightest. She cocked her head to the side and said.
“Your land was never appreciated much, was it?”
He didn’t know what to say. True, Mordor was no one’s idea of a holiday destination, but the foremost reason for people to dislike it had been he himself. He couldn’t really blame anyone for not appreciating the tortures and horrors hidden behind his Black Gate. He would have worried if people appreciated those, actually.
“Not really, no.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“You worry.”
“This world confuses me. Its people confuse me. I dislike being confused.”
Sinistra took his hand, and Sauron pulled it back, frowning.
“Don’t touch me. I don’t wish to be subject to your spells.”
“I have put no spell on you, and neither do I wish to.”
His frown deepened.
“Then what is it you do, Sinistra? Explain me.”
She smiled. 
“I will tell you. It is a rather long story, so bear with me.”
And she started her tale.
“I was born in Africa, the only child of a Sangoma and an English Wizard. My father, Richard Sinistra, fell ill while traversing my mother’s village. She was the Healer, so they brought him to her and she cared for him. During that time, they fell in love. My mother didn’t want to leave her village, so my father stayed with her, never returning to his homeland. A year later, they had me.” 
She softly shook her head at the memory.
 “When I was fifteen, the Thwasa came to me. The Calling. It is a period of fever and insanity that every future Sangoma goes through. For days I was ill, and the Ancestors spoke to me in my dreams. A foreign spirit in need of healing would see me out, but I would have to go where it could find me. They woke my powers and told me to travel over the sea. When I woke up and told my parents, they allowed me to leave, to follow my Thwasa. I did, all the way to England, where my father still had family…  and for years I waited.”
Sauron didn’t understand it still… Sinistra touched his face, and immediately the strange shock was there again, that sense of unexplainable calm flooding his mind.
“You are the foreign spirit I have waited for, Sauron.”
What she had told him… made sense, in a way. It was an explanation at least for the sensation. His mind felt crystal clear and comfortably clouded at the same time. Part of him wanted to pull away, but the feeling was so pleasurable that he found he couldn’t bring himself to it. Yet he said, in another bout of honesty,
“There is no healing or redemption for me, Sinistra. You have no idea who I am or what I have done.”
“The Thwasa doesn’t lie. It never does.”
Her hand stroked through his hair, and Sauron couldn’t help but lean into her touch.
“Then what does it tell you to do?”
“Close your eyes.”
He did, and she sang, not stopping her soft caress. He felt the magic of her song settle around him, and to the cadence of her voice he slowly drifted to sleep. Suddenly panicking, he tried to fight it, tried to stay awake… He couldn’t just let this strange sorceress work her magic on him, who knows what she might…
“Don’t struggle. Sleep. Let me heal you.”
He heard her voice in his mind, soft but firm, and gave up the fight almost immediately, surrendering to sleep…

When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in the Astronomy Tower anymore. He was sitting in a grass field… And when he looked around he realized that was a very familiar grass field and the recognition caused a sudden jolt of panic. Poppies, silver willows, glowworms and fairy lights… The Gardens of Lòrien. 
“Well, well… you must be the very last person I’d expected to see here. Apart from your master, that is.”
Sauron turned, and sat face-to-face with Irmo, Master of Desire, Dreams and Illusions, and brother to that bastard Námo. The moment he thought that, the Vala frowned.
“Sure, he’s a little coldhearted, but he’s still my brother you know.”
Right. Valar could read his mind.
“Good that you remember.”
Sauron frowned and drew his knees to his chest, feeling panicked, confused and uncomfortably scrutinized. Bitterly he remarked,
“So, have you had your fun with me? I knew you and your brother had something to do with it. I knew it wasn’t real.”
Irmo raised his eyebrows.
“I don’t know what you think –well, I do, but that’s not the point- but I meant what I said. I wasn’t expecting you to turn up in my garden. In fact, I was pretty sure you were still in the Void.”
Sauron scowled.
“Really now.”
“Yeah, really.”
“Then what am I doing here?”
Irmo shrugged, with a half smile.
“Who knows? I had nothing to do with it, and neither does my brother. I mean, you know him; he tends to be vocal about doomy things. There is no way he could have gotten you out of the Void and not told the whole of Valinor about it.”
In another situation, Irmo’s comments would probably have made him laugh. He had always liked the Master of Dreams, who seemed to have all the sense of humor his brother lacked… But right now, there was something more urgent on his mind.
 “So, you’re just going to throw back into the Void?”
“I can’t. You’re not really here, only your mind is. You have followed the Path of Dreams, somehow.”
The Path of Dreams… He had never found it before, not once. He had physically visited the Gardens back in Valinor, but never before in his dreams. How strange…
“Yes, it’s strange. But explainable, for you see, the Gardens are a place of healing for the damaged and weary.”
“So?”
“Well, from what I can tell you are both damaged and weary.”
Sauron thought something in Black Speech that made Irmo frown.
“Don’t use that language here. It’s ugly.”
He had made that language! Wasn’t that like calling someone’s baby ugly?
“I call babies ugly when they are. Your mind is a serious mess, Sauron, just so you know. It’s bad enough in Quenya, you don’t need to add those horrendous guttural syllables to it.”
“If my mind is so horrendous, could you please stop reading it?”
“Stop thinking loudly and I’ll try.”
For a while Sauron tried not to think too much, until Irmo snorted.
“You’re hopeless. Anyway, I won’t tell Námo that you’re here, so you can relax.”
“What about the others?”
Irmo rolled his eyes.
“I thought you knew me better than that. Your secret is safe with me.”
Instinctually, Sauron knew the Vala of Dreams wasn’t lying, and… it made him feel strangely at ease suddenly. Irmo smiled and remarked.
“I have things to do so I can’t really keep an eye on you…”
He waited a moment and looked expectantly at Sauron, who frowned.
“That was lame, Irmo. Even for you.”
“If you think that’s lame, you should hear Vairë’s eye jokes. Seriously, we’re going to make fun of that until Dagor Dagorath.”
Sauron facepalmed.
“Great. And you really have nothing better to do.”
Irmo chuckled and disappeared, leaving Sauron on his own. Finally alone, Sauron took a deep breath and attempted to calm himself. It didn’t work too well… The Gardens were certainly beautiful, and the soft music that resounded from birds and singing people in the distance could be considered relaxing too… but for Sauron anything related to the Valar had always meant doom and trouble so it was no surprise that he continued to feel on edge. 
“Always being a difficult patient, no?”
The voice of Irmo sounded next to him, but the Vala was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly Sauron just couldn’t keep his eyes focused any longer, unexpected exhaustion coming over him. Dizzily he uttered,
“W-What…”
“Shush now.”
Resistance was futile again, and a moment later Sauron slept, deep and dreamlessly. 
The next morning he woke up incredibly well rested outside the Astronomy tower, covered with Sinistra’s golden cape and not the slightest bit cold. A warming charm, he suspected. The sun was up already and the professor was nowhere to be seen… Sauron shook his head. What in Eru’s name had happened last night? He remembered Sinistra singing for him, and being in the Gardens of Lòrien, but it all had a bit of a surreal hue in his mind. How much had he dreamed and how much had actually happened? Slightly confused he got up and got inside. He had no idea what to think of it all…

(Author's Apologies)
On the topic of Baudelaire
I take, obviously, no credit for Charles Baudelaire's poetry. The poem from which the quote comes is called "The Man Who Tortures Himself" and it is surprisingly applicable to Sauron's situation. Also, I urge everyone to read Baudelaire's "Les Fleurs Du Mal" ("The Flowers of Evil" ) from which this poem comes, because it is an amazing work of poetry, one of my favorites. If you're interested, you can find it at: http://fleursdumal.org


Chapter 14 - Bitchfights, or why not to flip the bird at an angry Asian.

Chapter 14.
In which there is a bitch fight, and the Ravenclaw doorknob pokes fun of Sauron.

“Amal kuluz lat?”
Ginny was waiting for him in the Ravenclaw Commonroom, and she was smirking. Sauron glared at her and grumbled.
“Kramp-izg nar nargzab gashnat ob ta.” 
Ginny frowned when she tried to translate the construction, then grinned when she realized it was Sauron’s favorite way of ending a conversation. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the golden fabric he was holding.
“Is that Professor Sinistra’s cape?”
“I told you, I don’t want to talk about it! Adh ta!” 
His eyes glowed dangerously, and Ginny nodded in acceptance.
“Sure. I’ll be in the library, if you need me.”
With that she walked away. Sauron watched her leave, and with a sigh he entered his room and dropped the cape on his bed. He had to order his thoughts before they made him crazy… His eye fell on the sketchpad Luna had given him, and his lips quirked in a bitter smirk. Luna Lovegood, Sinistra, Irmo, Námo, Trelawney… he was always surrounded by people who all somehow knew what was going to happen, while he was doomed to just blindly stumble from one thing into the next. It was unnerving and annoying him to no end. Yet despite his annoyance, his hand reached for the sketchpad, and he started drawing from his memory. He could try to fight and resist the weird ways of this world, but experience taught him that it was better to -how did they say that here again- roll with it. That was it. He just had to roll with it. And the drawing helped, no matter how much he hated to admit it. 

Lessons continued, and after having dangled from the chandelier in the Ravenclaw Commons a couple times, Ginny learned not to pester Sauron about Professor Sinistra... that is to say, not too much. 
Despite Ginny annoying him, Sauron came to realize that they were friends. That was far more shocking a realization than it might seem; Sauron didn’t think he had had another friend after Eönwë, and that had been in the First Age. He had been on somewhat friendly terms with the Witch-King of Angmar, but since the man/wraith had technically been his slave Sauron didn’t think it counted as friendship. Which meant he had been at least 2000 years without friends. Even for a Maia that was a long time. Realizing they were friends didn’t mean that he stopped being his usual bad-tempered self around Ginny though… 
His “thing” with Professor Sinistra continued as well, and Sauron still didn’t know what to think about it, or even what to call it. Some nights they just studied Astronomy, but other nights they would talk, about anything really, and she would sing, and bewitch him with her touches. He had honestly tried to stay away, even asked that wretched Dumbledore if he couldn’t just drop Astronomy like he had done with Divination, but it had been no use. There was no escaping the lessons, and after a while he gave up trying to escape, even found himself… dared he say it… looking forward to her classes. He instinctively trusted Sinistra and felt completely at ease in her presence; for a paranoid person as himself, such a feeling was a relief beyond description.
As for paranoia, Sauron took up a new hobby: people-watching. His period as a big eye had clearly left its traces; he didn’t only like spying on people, he also turned out to be rather good at it. He especially found Harry Potter amusing to study, as he still hadn’t figured out what exactly made Ginny be so interested in the boy. While doing that, he also noticed more and more that there was something really strange going on with Professor Moody. He was still convinced that the man was disguised somehow, and close observation also taught him that the man wasn’t just strange but truly unhinged, in the dangerous way. He had known insane people, he had made people insane, and so he was familiar with all the signs. Sauron had to admit; the disguise the man had chosen was rather brilliant. No one would think it strange that a scarred, old, one-eyed and one-legged man behaved a little out of the ordinary… which served as perfect cover for his erratic behavior. And erratic it was; Sauron didn’t think that torturing rats and spiders while mumbling “tell me, tell me where he is” counted as just a little eccentric. He had spied on Moody while the professor was in his office –not a sinecure, the man was even more paranoid than he- and what he had seen definitely didn’t classify as how a responsible teacher should behave… All in all, Sauron thought it pretty hilarious that a possibly dangerous insane man could so easily masquerade as a professor. It did say something about Dumbledore’s people skills… 
Life at Hogwarts was still utterly strange to Sauron, but he was quick to adapt –dying and reincarnating a lot tended to do that- and he even started to like his studies. They weren’t exactly challenging, but their amusement value made up for that. Having a lot of magical power could give the most innocent spell a twist it seemed… The time he had scourgified a muddy rat of all dirt -this including its skin- still brought a smirk to his lips. If only he had known this type of magic back in Middle-Earth… 

He stared at his drawings. Minas Morgul and the Nazgûl on their black steeds, Orodruin as seen from Barad-dûr, the Black Gate, the plains of Dagorlad right before the battle, Barad-dûr again, Cirith Ungol, and many other sights his Eye had seen once… the sketchpad was filling up quite nicely. The last drawings unsettled him though. One was a sight of Númenor –so far the only brightly colored drawing- and one was a portrait of Sinistra. He pulled the drawing of the sunken island out of the sketchpad and set fire to it, watching it burn with a strange sense of accomplishment. He couldn’t do the same to the other drawing though, he just couldn’t. He pulled it out of the sketchpad anyway, but didn’t burn it; he neatly folded it and put it in his notebook. The image kept haunting him even now it was out of sight… 
He had tried to tell himself that he made use of Sinistra, that he just went to her to calm his mind so he could concentrate on more ambitious plans later on… But the drawing was blatant proof that there was more to it. Sauron didn’t like it, so he tried not to think about it. That was his usual strategy; he didn’t see why he should change that. He decided to go out and see if there was something interesting happening that he could spy on. However, he had only just left the Commonroom, or…
“Oh Sauron!”
The happy voice of Precious Nibelungen resounded through the corridor. Sauron gritted his teeth. He had successfully avoided Precious after the Yule Ball, but now he was out of luck it seemed. 
“Precious.”
The girl smiled brightly and played with her brown tresses while exuding a giggle. She could be considered attractive, Sauron knew, but that damned cheerful demeanor was more than anyone could bear. Anyone sane, that is. 
“I was wondering about something… You know, we never got to dance at the Yule Ball…”
“No new occasions for dancing are planned, for as far as I know.”
Hopefully, he added in mind.
Precious giggled.
“About that… There’s going to be a secret party in Hogsmeade. Geoffrey Habersham the Third from Hufflepuff has a sister who lives there, and they’ve planned this bash for Cedric at her house.”
“I see… And what do you…”
“I’m invited, because Cho and I are totally best friends, and I thought you could go with me, maybe? You could make up for not dancing with me…”
Of course. Sauron internally moaned.
“Who else is coming, except for the delegates?”
“Oh, they don’t really have a guest list. Whoever knows about it can consider himself invited.”
She winked and placed a finger suggestively at her lip.
“So, what do you say?”
He couldn’t believe himself, but he was actually considering it. Not for Precious, but for Ginny. She would probably love a party, and Sauron already saw a lot of possibilities to cause trouble between Cho and Cedric with her being there. 
“Sounds… interesting. Where, and what time?”
“Tomorrow night, past curfew. To get there, use the secret passage behind the mirror on the fourth floor. It leads to someone’s basement, but you can easily get out of it through the hatch. The party is in the apartment above The Magic Neep. You’ll find it!”
 “I’m sure I will.”
Precious sent him a blinding smile and winked again.
“We’ll have so much fun!”
“I can’t wait.”
Sauron’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, but as usual it was completely wasted on the obliviously happy girl. He watched her bounce away, and tried to fight an upcoming headache…

He had told Ginny about the party, and of course she was enthusiastic. He knew her well enough, after all. As they walked back to the Ravenclaw tower, she was almost as bouncy as Precious.
“Sauron, what do you think I should w…”
He sent her an annoyed glare.
“Don’t even finish that question.”
“Tsss.”
“Kul shum buthaghuga.” 
Sauron told Ginny often enough how very annoying she was, but it was the tone on which he did this that made her smile. It mostly sounded resigned, and not even remotely angry. She had decided to take it as a compliment. When they reached the commonroom, they saw a whole crowd of people had already gathered there. Apparently the doorknob riddle had changed, and it must be a particularly difficult one this time… When they heard it, Sauron wished he could sink in the floor.
“What has a ring, but no finger?”
The doorknob almost sounded triumphant for having found a riddle that so far no one had solved… other students growled when hearing it again.
“I bet it’s one of those stupid muggle devices. Ever since the Muggle Studies professor talked to the doorknob it’s nothing but this drivel.”
“A ring and no finger, that could be anyone, right?”
“How many people with no hands do you know?”
The discussions went on for a little longer, and Sauron caught Ginny eyeing his missing ring finger. Great. He really wanted to get inside before Precious Nibelungen would show up again, so he decided to brace himself and give it a go. He addressed the doorknob.
“The Ring was always mine, no matter who possessed it. Therefor, there must have been a point in time where I had a ring and no finger.”
If doorknobs could grin, Sauron was certain this one would have done so. 
“Original, Mr. Gorthaur… and correct. Come in!”
The whole crowd looked at Sauron with big, disbelieving eyes, but he ignored them and just got to his room, followed by Ginny. Inside, the redhead gave him a questioning look.
“What was that about?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She cocked her head to the side and smirked.
“Of course.”
“Ginny…”
Sauron felt that he was dangerously close to getting angry with her. It was clear that the girl hadn’t expected that response, especially not after he had reacted rather docile to her usual taunts. Her eyes widened a bit.
“I’m sorry, just curious…”
“Sate your curiosity elsewhere.”
Ginny threw a look at the sketchpad on the bed –lying open on a detailed drawing of a field full of ugly dead creatures spiked and stabbed on spears and arrows- and decided that a strategic retreat might be in order.
“I’ll be off. See you at the party?”
Without waiting for answer, she left. Now alone, Sauron sulked and cursed the Valar, thinking about his Ring, the war, his many defeats… and Sinistra. The Astronomy professor came into his mind just as easily as the Great Drowning these days…

“What is that are you wearing?”
“I borrowed it from a girl in my dorm. Do you like it?”
Sauron rolled his eyes. Ginny was wearing a red dress that was (according to Sauron) both inappropriately short and inappropriately tight. 
“I refrain from comment.”
“Oh. You don’t like it.”
“As I said, I refrain from comment. Don’t push it.”
At least she hadn’t smothered her face in cosmetics; that was something at least. The prefect patrolling the corridor was in on the plan and didn’t give them any trouble when they snuck through the secret passage behind the mirror. Ginny was giggling all the time, until Sauron clamped his hand over her mouth and sent her a glowing glare.  
“Be. Quiet.”
“Fine, fine…”
They reached the basement, and as Precious had said the hatch was open, leading to one of the streets. The Magic Neep, Hogsmeade’s grocery store, was easy enough to find, mostly because it was the only place in the quiet village that was lit up and from which noise came. Sauron frowned.
“What are they doing there?”
“It’s a party. They’re probably drinking and dancing, or just drinking, it’s early still, after all…”
Ginny said, with the air of a woman-of-the-world. Sauron raised his eyebrows skeptically.
“Aren’t you a little young to frequent things like this often?” 
She grinned apologetically.
“Some things are just common knowledge. Plus, I have six older brothers.”
“I see.”
When an older Slytherin student let them in, the sound became louder exponentially. The apartment was dark and crowded, and on the ceiling hung lights that flashed in different colors, bathing the room in neon green or eerie red for a second. Sauron was somewhat stunned.
“THIS is a party?”
The Yule Ball had held a semblance to what he knew as a feast, but this? The sound was an erratic mess of what sounded like the clanking, crashing and wringing of metal, accompanied by a steady background beat and a whispering voice, and the air was filled with the scent of people, liquor and something else Sauron couldn’t place. All in all it was rather overwhelming. Ginny pulled him further into what he suspected was the living room, and got him a cup with undefined liquid. 
“Awesome, no?!”
She had to yell to get over the background sound, but no one seemed to care. Sauron’s head hurt just from being there a few moments.
“What is that sound?!”
“Just music! Don’t you like it?!”
He threw back the undefined liquor and decided he needed a seat. 
“Go! I’ll watch!”
“What?!”
Sauron just shook his head, gestured to a couch against the wall, and pointed Ginny to where people were dancing. She shrugged and nodded, leaving him on his own. Or as “on his own” as he could be in the room that seemingly got more crowded every moment. He got himself another cup of whatever-it-was, and sat down on the couch, trying to order his thoughts. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness easily, but those flashing lights kept distracting him, not to mention that pounding sound of industry they apparently considered music here… In a moment of irony, Sauron thought that Melkor would probably have appreciated the music… although he would most likely have added screaming instead of whispering on the background. Sipping from his cup, his eye caught a flash of gold and glitter in the crowd. He followed it, and indeed… Precious Nibelungen. Her voluptuous backside was barely covered with a short gold-colored skirt, and her bosom almost burst out of her glittery pink top while she moved to the background beat, laughing and shaking her brown tresses. Sauron was glad that his black clothes blended so well with the shadowy corner he had chosen… 
Some time passed, and as his ears and eyes got used to the deafening beat and unusual lighting he relaxed… a bit. Then he caught sight of Ginny, and his eyes widened slightly. The girl had obviously been drinking, and she danced rather provocatively in the middle of the crowd. Sauron shook his head. Silly, silly girl. The alcohol had no effect on him, but its effects on these creatures were clearly not to be underestimated… The young redhead was drawing attention, especially when she climbed a small salon table, and Sauron internally wondered if he should intervene. No, he decided. Learning goes with falling and crawling back up; falling from that table would make a good first lesson in “things not to do when intoxicated”. Slightly amused, he watched the girl’s antics, until he heard an indignant yell close to him. He turned his head, and caught sight of Cho Chang. 
“What is SHE doing here?!”
The boy she was talking to, probably Cedric, gave a response that Sauron didn’t hear properly. It was obviously not to the liking of the Asian girl.
“What?! Then who dared inviting her?!”
“Cho…”
“Did you REALLY think I WOULDN’T SEE HER HERE?! In that whorish dress of hers?”
Sauron smirked. Yeah, that was going right. 
“I had nothing to do with it! Someone else must have invited her; it wasn’t me! I would never!”
“RIGHT! And she’s shaking that non-existent ass of hers for no good reason too, huh?!”
“Cho, please!”
“She is LEAVING! NOW!”
“You can’t just do this, it’s…” 
Sauron didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, for an excited voice exclaimed almost next to his ear,
“Oh there you are!”
Precious had found him, again. He had little defense when she pulled him to the dance floor and practically pushed her boobs against his chest. Biting his teeth he followed her moves, for a bit, hoping and praying that soon something would happen to distract the obnoxious female from her clumsy attempts at seduction… If not, he wasn’t certain how long he would be able to control his temper… 
It turned out that he wasn’t the only one who had trouble controlling his temper, and in that laid his rescue. 
“YOU BITCH!”
The scream was loud enough for everyone to hear over the music, and people turned to see Cho Chang, red cheeked and angry, pointing at Ginny. Ginny made an obscene gesture at her, and that set it all free. The Asian girl charged at Ginny and tackled her from the table, and immediately a circle formed around the scene.
“BITCH FIGHT! BITCH FIGHT!”
The crowd started cheering on the two girls, who for as far as Sauron could see were rolling over the floor kicking and scratching, screaming like angry cats at each other. These mortals were so, so backwards… Seeing that Ginny –who was smaller in posture and not as physically strong- was losing the fight, Sauron decided to intervene after all. He easily pushed some people aside, grabbed Cho by the shoulder and pulled her off Ginny. The apparently drunk and anger-struck Asian immediately tried to attack again, but Sauron was faster, pulling Ginny out of reach and pushing the raging girl away. Not helping was that Ginny seemed as eager to continue fighting as Cho… Eventually though, some Hufflepuff boys restrained the Ravenclaw seeker, and Sauron managed to drag Ginny with him, out of the apartment and back on the streets.
“That crazy bitch! She just attacked me! Oh Merlin I want to KILL HER! ARGH! Let me go back I’ll finish her!”
Sauron rolled his eyes.
“The odds aren’t in your favor. She will most likely finish you; I have spared you a painful defeat. Be grateful.”
Ginny’s anger seemed to cool down in the cold night air, and eventually she just sobbed.
“This was horrible. That bitch…”
Sauron smirked un-empathically.
“I found it rather amusing, really.”
“You would.”
He noticed that Ginny –who looked completely disheveled and had quite a few scratches on her arms and back- was also limping. Of course, that silly mortal had to get injured. He sighed,
“Did you break anything?”
“I… I think I sprained my ankle… When I f-fell from the t-table…”
“Right. So, what have we learned today?”
“Don’t flip the bird at angry Asians?”
“And?”
“Don’t dance on tables when angry Asians attack?”
“Good enough.”
The more they walked, the more miserable Ginny seemed and the more pronounced her limping was, and eventually Sauron couldn’t help but… take pity on her. In a way.
“Stop the sniveling, will you?”
He gave her his coat, and then effortlessly picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, causing Ginny to squeak.
“What are you doing?!”
“Carrying you. At your pace it will take us ages to get back to Hogwarts, and I would prefer to be there before sunrise..”
And so Sauron’s first introduction into earthly parties ended with an introduction in earthly bitch fights, and him carrying a drunk and wounded Ginny back to Hogwarts. From over his shoulder, Ginny mumbled,
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t apologize.”
“Right.”

(Author's Apologies)
On the topic of music:
I imagined something among the lines of T3rr0r 3rr0r's "Domination" for the background music. Check it out, it is absolutely awesome rave music. Also, I think Melkor would have been a great fan of Metal and Industrial. Just a thought.

TRANSLATIONS:
“Amal kuluz lat?” (Where were you?)
“Kramp-izg nar nargzab gashnat ob ta.” (I do not want to talk about it)
=> I think "Narkramp-izg" instead of "Kramp-izg nar" would be acceptable, but I'm not sure. 
"Adh ta!” (Leave it!)
“Kul shum buthaghuga.” (You are so annoying.)


Chapter 15 - Many stories are told...

Chapter 15. 
In which many stories are told. 

When they finally arrived in Sauron’s room, he dropped his load unceremoniously on the bed. 
“Auwch!”
“I carried you. Don’t complain.”
“How are you not drunk? I saw you drink way more than I did!
“Maiar don’t get drunk.”
Ginny pouted.
“That is just so not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair.”
“Yay. Tomorrow is going to be such a blast… There’s no way I can go to madam Pomfrey…”
“Let me see your injuries.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Since when are you a healer?”
Sauron gave her his “really now” look. 
“I have been forced to treat my own third degree burns, shattered bones, stab wounds and internal bleeding. Do you believe I’m capable of looking after scratches, bruises and a sprained ankle?”
Ginny had paled a bit at the description of the injuries. 
“Wow. Shit. Really?”
“What did I tell you about asking that time after time? Yes, really. Now let me see.”
Cho Chang’s manicure had left its trace; harsh bleeding red scratches adorned Ginny’s bare back and arms… and a blue-ish bite mark on her shoulder indicated that nails hadn’t been the Asian’s only weapons… Sauron raised an eyebrow at the injuries. Scratching and biting, that was the tactic of those who had no skill, only anger… 
“Your species fights like Orcs.”
“Orcs?”
“Ugly creatures of low intelligence and skill, that get into fistfights for everything and anything among each other. They live in my world.”
“Oh. Those dead creatures you drew, those were Orcs? They were ugly.”
Sauron remembered he had indeed drawn an after-battle scene with mangled Orc bodies, and nodded.
“Yes.”
There was a bit of silence while Sauron cleaned the scratches. Finally Ginny hissed under her breath.
“Nargzab-izg azat za haglob…
“Îst-izg. Brushub bidroi, dhûzud nar rad.
“Revenge? How are you going to take revenge for this?”
“I’ll have to wait and see how this ends first, before I can plan anything.”
They sat in silence again, but after Sauron had taken care of Ginny’s ankle (that charms textbook came in handy quite often) the girl said.
“Let’s play a game.”
“You’re still intoxicated.
“That’s why. If I fall asleep now, I’ll be sick in you room tomorrow. It’s in you favor to have me sobered up at least a bit first.”
She made a good point.
“I don’t wish to play any games, but I’ll keep you awake.”
“How?”
Sauron decided to be cunning and make use of her currently diminished thinking capacity.
“I ask questions, and you must answer them truthfully.”
“I want to ask questions too.”
“Don’t whine. I said I’d keep you awake, not that you’d get to interrogate me.”
“Fine. Don’t be pissy, just ask me something.”
“What do you see in Harry Potter?”
Ginny chuckled.
“That’s your question? Really?”
He shot her an annoyed glance.
“Answer the question.”
She sighed.
“He’s… well, he’s cute, and famous, and rich…” She hesitated a moment. “But that’s all minor stuff. The real reason is... that he saved my life.”
This was getting interesting…
“Oh?”
“I… it was my first year, and… well, I had gotten to know this person, and… let’s just say that he wasn’t exactly the best guy I could have ended up with.” She snorted. “That’s a euphemism. He tried to eat my soul and then feed me to a basilisk.”
 “A… basilisk?”
“Fifty feet long, big, snake-like thing with a giant mouth full of poisonous teeth, and if you look it in the eyes you die? Don’t have that in Mordor?”
No, but it sure would have been an interesting addition to his armies… 
“No. We don’t have those in Mordor. What has Harry Potter to do with that?”
Ginny got a slightly enamored expression on her face, made worse by the alcohol blush on her cheeks. 
“He… came to save me. I was in this secret chamber underground cave thing, and no one knew where it was located, but he found out where it was and came in with his wand, and sword, and he kinda… slayed the basilisk, and killed the guy. He almost died himself too… I was unconscious while he did it, but when I woke up he was there, with this bloody sword, and the monster was dead and all…”
“Harry Potter slayed the basilisk. With a sword.”
Sauro echoed disbelievingly. Apparently Hobbits weren’t the only small, scrawny and annoying creatures that shouldn’t be underestimated… 
“He did. Back then I was 11, and not really after boys or anything… but then later, I started to realize that… well, guys who kill monsters for you the old-fashioned way, they’re sort of rare these days. And that’s what started it.”
“I see.”
“My turn. What happened to your finger?”
Sauron sighed.
“I used to wear a ring. Someone else wanted it. I didn’t want to give it to him. He cut off my finger. End of story.”
“That’s… gosh… Someone can just do that in your world?”
“In war lots of unpleasant things happen.”
“So, those wounds you told me about… you actually had those?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. I really thought you were kidding.”
“Am I ever?”
“No. True.”

The next morning, Ginny woke up on Sauron’s bed, still dressed and with a pounding headache. She wasn’t violently sick though, that was at least something. She turned, and caught sight of a bright yellow note in Tengwar. Moaning, she turned around again. She would decipher that handwriting later… Five minutes later she realized that she was missing classes, and got up anyway, bending over the note. Translated it said “If you throw up in my bed, or even in my room, I will murder you in your sleep. Don’t be late for class. Sauron.” Charming… A tempus charm told her that she had about ten minutes left to prepare for class… and she was currently in Sauron’s room, and the only clothes she had with her were what she had worn the night before. Moaning wholeheartedly, she made her way to the bathroom… This was such a disaster… 
When she looked into the mirror and realized that she had a bruise in her face as well, along with her hair being completely in tangles, she could almost cry. Part of her just wanted to lock herself in the bathroom and not come out again, but she suspected Sauron wouldn’t appreciate that. What had they talked about last night anyway? The memories came seeping back through the headache, and Ginny slumped against the mirror. Great, she had drunkenly told him about the basilisk and Harry. Urgh. And Merlin knows what else. Double urgh. 
“Htol slaium-izub…”
Eventually she showered, untangled her hair, dressed, and searched through Sauron’s closet for something she could borrow to cover herself with. Eventually she went for a black robe she was sure he wouldn’t need any time soon. She left a note in clumsy Tengwar, stating: “I borrowed your robe. Will bring it back. Did not throw up in your room, so don’t kill me (please). Ginny.” After that she snuck out of the Ravenclaw Tower, praying to all the gods that she wouldn’t run into Cho Chang…
Back in the Gryffindor Commonroom, Hermione, Harry and Ron awaited her. 
“Where have you been? You weren’t in your room, what…”
“Oh my god Ginny, your face!”
“Tell me who did that and I’ll teach them a lesson!”
“It was that Sauron, wasn’t it?”
 Ginny held up her hands in defeat.
“Stop it! Sauron didn’t do anything wrong!”
Ron frowned and said skeptically,
“And let me guess, you walked into a door?”
“No, into Cho Chang.”
Harry and Hermione’s mouths fell open.
“What? Cho Chang gave you a black eye?”
Ginny suddenly saw an opportunity. Scorned she said.
“That’s not all she did.”
She took off the robes and showed her ravaged back and arms. Their eyes widened. However, Ron asked,
“What were you doing in that dress?”
She frowned angrily.
“Nothing that concerns you.”
“Ginny…”
“Fine, I was at a party after curfew. Don’t look at me like that, it’s not as if you’ve never gone out after dark.”
“Then what happened?”
“She was there too, and she attacked me for no reason. I was minding my own business, I was not doing anything wrong, and she just jumped me.”
Hermione gave Ginny a knowing look.
“Doing nothing, you say?”
“I was just dancing, like everyone else.”
“Right…”
“I’m serious! That girl is really dangerous, I mean, she BIT ME!”
Harry seemed most shocked of all.
“So… what has Sauron to do with all this, and why weren’t you in your bed?”
“He was at the party too, and he sort of pulled Cho off me while she was trying to scalp me. When we came back the Ravenclaw tower was closer by, so he just took me in and cleaned the scratches, that’s all. It was too late to come back here, so I stayed over. And before you ask Ron, nothing happened.”
Harry nodded, Ron didn’t seem convinced, and Hermione was still disbelievingly shaking her head. Ginny sighed. 
“I’m going to get dressed, I have some cosmetics and…”
“No worries, I know a good glamour charm for that black eye. Come, girl talk time.”
Hermione pulled her to the girl’s dorms and smirked when they were out of the boys’ earshot,
“See what happens when you keep eyeing a guy with a girlfriend?”
“I thought it was usually the other way round.”
“It goes both ways. It’s like a predator who caught a big prey; they won’t let another steal their kill. She must have been really drunk or really pissed to have attacked you like this and not just cursed you…”
“She was both, I think.”
“Bad combination. Now come in, I wasn’t lying about the glamour charm, and I think I also have something for those scratches…”

The missing finger kept egging him like it hadn’t done before. It was a bit as if the finger that wasn’t there anymore tingled, and he felt inclined to look at the empty spot time after time again. Memories of the Ring were unavoidable… While thinking it over, Sauron suddenly found himself longing to be with Sinistra. He blamed it on the mess in his head, but irrational or not the feeling didn’t leave him. It was as if the Ring made him think about Sinistra and vice versa, and every time he thought about either the longing became worse. All day, it was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It was both mental and physical, and utterly confusing. What was wrong with him? For a moment that thought made him smirk. Anyone in Middle-Earth would be able to easily answer that question with a whole tirade of issues…  
But Sinistra… he tried to tell himself that the only reason he wanted to see her was because of her strange foreign magic, that it were simply the effects of her touch he required… but that wasn’t it and deep inside he knew that very well. This longing was different, different from every desire he had ever felt. It wasn’t opportunistic or purely physical. In a bout of clarity, Sauron realized that what it came closest to was his want for the Ring. Sure, he had wanted the Ring because he wanted its power back, but he had also wanted it on a different level. He had longed for it because it was basically a piece of him that had gone missing. And that was how it felt. As if he was missing a piece of himself when he wasn’t with that strange dark woman. The connection made sense now, and yet it didn’t. Why did he feel like that about the Astronomy professor? He hadn’t exactly put a part of his power in her, had he? It was impractical and distracting, and Sauron found himself at loss of what to do about it…

That night, he found the Astronomy professor on her platform, staring at the night sky. 
“It’s been rather cloudy today.”
“Yes.”
She turned and sent him a smile.
“You wouldn’t know why that is by any chance?”
There was a slight jest in her voice. Sauron answered honestly.
“I have been… troubled.”
Anyone else would have found it unbelievable or at least odd that the cloudiness of the sky would somehow be related to Sauron’s moods… but not Sinistra. She just smiled and invited him next to her. 
“Tell me.”
“I don’t really want to talk about it. It is in the past.”
The keen eyes of the Astronomy professor caught how he stared at his missing finger. She softly said.
“I am sorry.”
Sauron shook his head.
“You wouldn’t feel sorry if you knew all about it. Sometimes people have it coming.”
He had had it coming, and he knew it. He didn’t think he “deserved” it or anything, he simply accepted the factual truth that when one did the things he had done, grave opposition was to be expected. No less, no more. And apparently, Doom was imminent for anyone disliked by the Doomsayer of the Valar, hence probably his many defeats. 
“Will you tell me a story of your world, Sauron?”
“There are not many stories to tell.”
There were, loads of them, but most featured either him or Melkor in the role of ultimate evil, and he just didn’t feel like telling her any of that. He didn’t even want to remember any of that while he was on the platform with her. Now he sat there next to her, he already felt much calmer than he had all day, he didn’t want to spoil that.
“Would you like to hear a story of my world then? Storytelling here is mostly for children, but some of the tales hold unexpected truths, I find.”
“I would be delighted.”
And so, Sauron got to hear the Tale of the Three Brothers.
“Once upon a time, when three brothers traveled together, they came upon a wide river. It was known that no Muggle could cross the water, but brothers were wizards, and they fashioned a bridge with magic. When they wanted to cross over however, a cloaked figure appeared and blocked their path. It was Death himself, and he congratulated them. All men drowned in the river for it was a trap he had set up… but the wizards had cheated him. He congratulated them for said feat, and offered them gifts most generously.”
Sinistra’s dark eyes seemed to light up a bit in the scarce moonlight as she looked at him.
“The oldest brother asked for a wand that could not be conquered… And Death took a branch from an elder tree and handed it to him… and that was the Elder Wand. The second brother asked for a way to recall the dead… and however humiliated, Death took a stone from the river and handed it to him… and that was the Resurrection Stone. The third brother asked for a way to hide himself from Death. And reluctantly, Death cut a piece of his own cloak, and handed it to him.”
She smiled, and Sauron started to feel a little… uncomfortable, as if he could feel something was coming.
“The three brothers crossed over and parted ways, each satisfied with their gift… But the gifts were treacherous. Drunk with the power of the Elder Wand, the oldest brother killed his old foes, celebrating and bragging…. But while he slept, an unknown man slipped into his room, stole the wand, and cut his throat. For that was the curse of the Elder Wand, it would pass from owner to owner through murder, because it’s power would seduce all. And so the eldest brother was taken by Death after all.”
Remarkable…
“The second brother returned straight home, and used the stone to recall his deceased lover. For a little while, he was overjoyed… but the dead don’t belong in the land of the living, and his love was unhappy, longing for the rest that had been taken from her. Seeing how she withered away, the brother set her free again and killed himself to be with her. For that was the curse of the Resurrection Stone, no man has more time than given him, and trying to claim more of it always ends in sorrow. And so the second brother was taken by Death after all.”
Sauron observed Sinistra as she told the story, her clear voice resounding soft yet clear in the dark of night. Her words prodded at his memories… Eventually he asked,
“What happened to the third brother?”
“Death looked long and hard, but couldn’t find the humblest of the three. Years later, when the third brother was an old and weary man who felt his time had passed, he took his cloak off, and gave it to his son. He met Death with a smile on his face, and they left together as old friends.”
“So… the cloak wasn’t cursed?”
“No. It wasn’t. And yet, neither the third brother escaped Death in the end.”
Sauron thought about it. The story made him think of too many things at once… and looking at Sinistra, he felt the need to tell her about something. 
“There… there is a story in my world, that made me think of this.”
“Oh?”
“It is told in many versions, under many names… I could call it the Tale of the Treacherous Ring.”
He had to urge himself to continue.
“Once upon a time…” He saw Sinistra smile, and frowned. “Don’t make fun of it, I know no other way to start it.”
“I don’t make fun of it. I simply smile because apparently both our worlds start tales in the same way.”
He softly shook his head and gathered his courage again. 
“So, once upon a time in my world there was a cunning and powerful creature, skilled in many arts magical and other. He worked as a jewelry smith, and possessed the ability to imbue his crafts with great power and magic. One day, he left his forge and took a fair disguise, calling himself Annatar, the Lord of Gifts. He travelled to all the world’s great kingdoms, and freely offered the leaders his work; beautifully crafted rings that would grant the wearer great power. Flattered, the kings accepted the rings, thinking that it must be for their wisdom and good regime that they had received such generous gift.”
Sauron waited a moment to see Sinistra’s reaction. She seemed ensnared…
“Little did they know that it was for their vanity and greed… Annatar had deceived them; on his finger he wore another ring, a ring that he had filled with his power, his malice, his purest evil... a ring to rule all others. And so the free kings became his slaves, and kingdom after kingdom fell for the power of the One Ring.”
He had no choice now; he had to go on. Why was he doing this again?
“Eventually, almost all resistance was broken, except for a last alliance of survivors. In a final fight their chances seemed dire… yet one of them, a mere mortal man, managed to separate the creature once called Annatar from his Ring. And because so much of his power was in the ring, the creature couldn’t sustain himself anymore without it, disappearing and freeing the enslaved lands from his tyranny.” 
He had to restrain himself, and not look at his hand. Definitely not look at his hand now. 
“But the Ring, the One Ring, it wasn’t destroyed. Whoever held it would be seduced by its power… and find himself betrayed by it, poisoned into insanity or led to his doom. The Ring belonged to no one but its maker, and as it travelled from place to place and person to person, it wished for nothing more than to return to its rightful place on its master’s hand. No matter where that might be, and no matter what it would take.”
With that he finished the tale. Sinistra looked curiously at him.
“That’s an odd story.”
“How… do you mean?”
“It seems to have no ending. Instead it sounds like the beginning of a whole other tale… I’m curious now to hear about the exploits of the treacherous ring in its quest to find its master…”
Sauron shook his head. 
“The Ring never found its master again.”
And that moment, he looked at his hands. And Sinistra looked at his hands as well, and in her obsidian eyes dawned understanding. Sauron braced himself for what he expected to come, even though he wasn’t sure what to expect… 
“Sauron…”
Her hand entangled with his, and even though internally he was screaming –at himself mostly, but also at the Valar and even at Eru Iluvatar- he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Her touch was pleasurable and calming as always, but somehow the strange magic wasn’t enough to bring his mind to rest. Conflicting thoughts and emotions fought for dominance, and when eventually an unexplainable sense of dread overcame him, he got up, untangling their hands with a shock.
“I… I should go.”
And with that, he practically ran away from the Astronomy tower…

TRANSLATIONS:
“Nargzab-izg azat za haglob…”(I want to kill that bitch...)
“Îst-izg. Brushub bidroi, dhûzud nar rad.” (I know. You will have revenge, just not now.)
“Htol slaium-izub…” (Fuck my life...)


Chapter 16 - Sauron is a drama-queen and Ginny tells him so.

Chapter 16. 
In which Sauron is a drama-queen and Ginny tells him so.

This was not normal. Standing with his back against the wall next to the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower, Sauron tried to control his mind and breathing. It didn’t work too well. Someone must have cursed him; there was no other explanation. He felt sick and confused, and Sinistra’s face kept haunting him, mixed with memories of his long and eventful past. All in all he was miserable. 
“Are you coming in or not?”
The Doorknob had taken notice of him. He sighed.
“What’s the riddle?”
“I am an instrument of creation, yet when misused I draw blood. I have one eye but I cannot see. What am I?”
Hearing that, Sauron dropped his head in his hands and sunk down against the wall, muttering things in Black Speech that sounded suspiciously much like “I hate my life”. The Doorknob seemed slightly worried.
“Is something wrong?”
“You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“Even doorknobs hate me. Htol-za…”
The Doorknob didn’t answer, and Sauron was left alone with his thoughts that were still racing uncontrollably. Eventually a Ravenclaw prefect –not Precious, praise Melkor- came back from patrolling the halls and let him in. He couldn’t sleep though, and no matter how much he thought on his unexpected problem, making sense of it he didn’t…

A shadow fell over Ginny’s books, and she looked up from her work to see Sauron, looking even more doom-and-gloom than usual. 
“Brosh, Sauron. Mal latum?” 
He sent her a slightly orange-tinted glare that promised pain and torment, before he said,
“Brus-izg push.”
Ginny raised an eyebrow in surprise. Had she heard that correctly, or was it a translation error? Had she actually heard Sauron Gorthaur admit he had a problem of some sorts?
“Garn…”
Ginny couldn’t believe her eyes. The impressive, intimidating Maia… actually looked somewhat embarrassed. It was a rare sight, usually reserved for moments after a temper tantrum.
“Shra dushuzat-ishi.” 
Someone cursed him? Ginny didn’t know anyone who would dare to curse Sauron, especially not after a couple incidents in DADA that had landed his dueling partners in sickbay. She didn’t really understand why he came to her; he was more than capable of extracting revenge for himself if needed. 
“Mirz?” 
Sauron gave her another -slightly more warning- doomglare. 
“I do not wish to discuss this here.”
That must have been quite the curse… Ginny observed Sauron, and noticed that he seemed tense, more troubled than angry really. Suddenly she felt worried for her friend; what had happened to him? They went to his room, and there Ginny dropped down on the bed.
“So, what happened?”
Sauron glared and harshly said.
“I don’t know. I don’t even know why I am telling you this. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Ginny held her hands up in surrender.
“I’m sorry…”
“How many times must I tell you not to apologize? It is annoying, and I can’t have it right now.”
She swallowed a second automatic apology and cocked her head to the side.
“Okay. If you don’t want to talk about it, why did you tell me?”
Sauron stared at his hands.
“I suppose because I have no one else to ask.”
It was ironic, but Ginny was too worried to laugh. 
“Then ask. I’ll try to help.”
“I have been cursed. I don’t know who did it or what curse was used.”
“What did it do? Maybe I recognize it.”
The troubled gleam in his flaming eyes increased.
“It’s… A sense… a sense of…” 

He didn’t find his words, again. It was hard to describe the exact feeling, the exact problem… He saw Ginny’s expectant, worried look, and tried again.
“It is a need, a longing for something. It’s like feeling something that isn’t there, like an amputee who still feels his long-lost limb.”
He frowned.
“My chest is constricted as if buried under stones, but I can breathe freely. My insides feel as if they’re clenched tightly in a monster’s fist, but I have no injuries and I feel no physical pain. It is as if I’m tied, a leash attached to my innards, tugging and pulling me. My thoughts run in circles, I can’t concentrate, and everything seems to have changed somehow, even though nothing is different.”
Something began to dawn on Ginny, but Sauron wasn’t finished yet.
“And… there is this… thing, that I cannot describe correctly in English. Dûmbûrzum. Doomdarkness.”
Trying to explain that would require him to tell Ginny of his past, of his actions in Middle-Earth, of his Ring, of the fear and terror he had spread. He could not explain dûmbûrzum to her because she had no idea of how war felt, how despair sounded, how defeat tasted. It was impossible to translate in a way she would understand. He clenched his fists in sudden anger, frustrated at his inability to convey exactly what was happening to him.
Ginny remarked.
“I… Well, I didn’t know you had it in you.”
That made him look up in surprise.
“What?”
“It’s professor Sinistra, no?”
“How…”
“Do you find yourself thinking of her at random and inopportune moments?”
He nodded, speechless. 
“Do you feel contented and happy when she pays attention to you?”
Another, short nod.
“Do you want to be with her all the time?”
He looked suspiciously at her.
“How do you know this? Are you the one who…”
Ginny chuckled; she couldn’t help it. All the time she had worried that something really bad was going on with him, and it was just…
 “You’re in love, Sauron.”
He frowned angrily at her.
“Impossible.”
Ginny shrugged.
“You really are. There’s nothing to do about it.”
“Maiar don’t fall in love.”
“From what you told me I’d say that they certainly do. And hard, at that.”
His eyes flamed in frustration and he hissed.
“Don’t taunt me…”
Ginny shook her head. The Intimidating-Maia-look didn’t work so well anymore now she knew he was in complete denial about his attraction to professor Sinistra. 
“I don’t taunt you. I’m just telling the truth. If you don’t believe me you can go to the sickbay and have yourself checked for magical curse residue… but you really are in love with professor Sinistra. I recognize the symptoms.”
Sauron’s frown deepened. 
“You cannot have felt such a thing as this. Love is light, frivolous and useless. This… this is…” Dark and crushing and devastating and desperate… Sauron didn’t manage to say it. He just shook his head. “This cannot be love.”
“I’m not saying that I’ve ever felt it so hard as you say you feel it. But the main symptoms are similar. You should at least consider the possibility.”
“I knew speaking to you would be no use. Leave me.”
Seeing that there wasn’t much she could do, Ginny nodded and got up.
“Okay. Come see me when you’ve figured it out.”
She left the Ravenclaw tower feeling conflicted. Sauron really had a warped idea of what love was. Did they not have romance in Mordor? Even if he had never been in love himself, he should at least have seen people in love and have an idea of what it was like. She hoped he would figure it out soon; he and professor Sinistra would make a cute pair…

“Hey Sauron.”
Luna Lovegood, of course. Sauron gritted his teeth in frustration. If not for the lessons he would never have left his room… His conversation with Ginny had left him confused and angry, and that was always a bad combination in him.
“What is it?”
“Just wondering if you were okay. You seemed a little agitated in DADA class.”
If agitated was a code word for murderous and bent on destruction, then yes he had been a little agitated. The students (and the windows, and the furniture) had gotten to know the full extent of his agitation… 
“I am fine. Leave me alone.”
Sauron was pretty sure that he looked quite terrifying, but Luna was completely undeterred. She gave him that mysterious smile and said softly.
“Sometimes it helps to take a step back and look at yourself. Like… in a mirror.”
He glared at her, muttered something ugly, and simply walked away. Only when she was out of sight he allowed himself to contemplate what she had said. Look in a mirror… Sauron didn’t quite get it, and he wished he could just discard it as nonsense. Unfortunately, so far all Luna’s ridiculous counsel had turned out to make sense in the end, and he was sure this piece of advice would be no different. 
Look in a mirror…
“Its foremost use is showing the confused or deluded what is truly in their heart. Not all people know that equally well.”
The Mirror of Erised. Sauron scowled. He knew what he desired most; he had already seen it… But what if Ginny was right, part of his mind told him. What if he desired not power and the Ring most, but Sinistra?
“Nonsense.”
He said it out loud, as to convince himself. His treacherous mind continued however. If he wasn’t “in love” with Sinistra, then looking in Erised would prove that. Didn’t he dare? What was he afraid of? Eventually he got frustrated with his own thoughts and walked with great strides to the room where he had found the Mirror, frightening all students he encountered on his way. It was still there, exactly the way he had left it. He would prove himself for once and for all that he was not in love with that wretched woman… 
When he looked into the mirror, a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding escaped in embarrassing relief. He still saw Mordor, with its dark soil and clouded skies, as from a window in Barad-dûr… The relief faded however when he realized that there was no trace of the Orcs feasting on the corpses of the fallen. And where was he in this picture? As if the Mirror heard his request, the image turned a bit, showing the same balcony where he had once seen himself basking in victory with his Ring. He still saw himself... and next to him stood Sinistra. With a sense of despair creeping up on him, Sauron watched how his “mirror image” protectively held an arm around the astronomy professor, whispered something in her ear that made her laugh, and then passionately kissed her. He was in shock. It was as if by watching the scene, the realization became absolutely undeniable and solidified itself in his very fëa. He loved Sinistra. 
Love wasn’t anything like what he had imagined it to be. It was dark and consuming, and it burned like a Balrog’s whip on his mind. For the very first time, Sauron understood how “heartbreak” could drive a mortal to suicide. The longing he felt when seeing the illusory images in the Mirror seemed to tear at him, and it actually felt like something broke when another realization dawned on him. Sinistra would never return his feelings. Certainly, he was experienced enough to talk her into his bed, and if that failed there were always other, less ethically justified options to get his way… But that wasn’t what he wanted. No disguise or deception would bring him any happiness, if anything it would only make him more desperate. He wanted her to know him, to know everything about him… and still love him like he loved her. And that was impossible. You couldn’t just spend a couple millennia being the main force of evil in a world, and then expect someone to hold anything other than fear or contempt for you. Sauron had always thought that was an advantage, but now the knowledge was crushing him. 
He didn’t know how he got back to his room… But he did end up there, and stayed there all day, missing all his other lessons. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.

Five days Sauron spent cooped up in his room. He didn’t open the door for Ginny when she softly asked in Black Speech if he was okay, he didn’t budge when Luna attempted to lure him out with food –he had gone without far longer before- and not even Professor Flitwick managed to get him out. It was obvious that he didn’t open the door for Precious Nibelungen. He hadn’t needed to ward his room; the darkness of his mind had settled in the room like a shroud, keeping any intruders out more effectively than any ward could. All the time, he simply sat on his bed, playing with his wand and fighting the horrid despair that seemed to have overtaken his mind… 
“Sauron, thlûk ob za! Badz dagronk rad!” 
Ginny was back, and she sounded miffed. He didn’t pay attention to it, too consumed by his own thoughts. The girl didn’t give up though.
“Flitwick said that if you don’t come out he’ll have to send Dumbledore at you. Do you want that?”
With a threatening and ominous voice he said,
“Ginny, âdh-izish.”
But Ginny didn’t leave. 
“You are going to stop being a htolûrz drama-queen and you’re going to stop it right now! Tîr rad, Sauron!” 
No one had ever called him a drama-queen before. No one would have dared to speak like that to him, ever! How dared she!
“Awol hûr! Puzg fîgûz-lab!” 
“What are you going to do, stare me to death from behind the door?”
She had a point, but he wasn’t about to admit that.
“Ukh kraat!” 
“If this is about what I think it’s about, then you’re really a flâgît lorz!”
She had called him a stupid idiot. She. Had. Called. HIM. A stupid idiot. And there was nothing he could do about it. Sauron just couldn’t believe it. How low the mighty had fallen… But for some reason, being insulted did exactly what food and coaxing hadn’t managed; he opened the door and sent Ginny a glare of death that would have made a lesser woman piss her pants. Ginny met his glare with a look of resolve and triumph.
“Finally.”
“You… you…”
Ginny just came in, carrying a basket with what he suspected was food, completely ignoring his fuming temper. It was clear however that the dreadful feeling hanging in the room startled her.
“I’m not going to apologize. Now close that door and tell me what the fuck is wrong with you.”
Somehow, Ginny’s calm and resolute demeanor made the worst of his anger fade. He still glared though.
“You have some guts.”
“I thought you would approve. So, what’s this about?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. You wouldn’t understand anyway.”
“Let me guess. You have finally figured out that you’re in love with Professor Sinistra, and now you have gotten it in your head that she’ll reject you.”
Sauron couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping.
“How…”
“You’re behaving exactly like a teenage girl falling in love for the first time, only with more doom and black clouds and other dark-lord-ish drama.”
Ginny blatantly said. 
“You’re just a teenage girl yourself!”
“Yes, so I have first hand experience of the whole thing.”
They glared at each other… Surprisingly enough, it was Sauron who gave up first.
“You cannot understand it.”
“Why do you think she’ll reject you? From what I’ve seen and heard you’re pretty much her favorite student, and on the Yule Ball it was rather obvious that she liked you as more than that. I mean, do you think that a professor sneaking away with a student from an official party is a normal thing here?”
Sauron’s lips quirked in a bitter smirk...
“Tell me, the man who tried to “eat your soul” and feed your body to a basilisk… I am certain he committed more crimes than just that. If you had known of all his crimes beforehand, would you have gotten infatuated with him?”
Ginny shook her head.
“Of course not.” 
And then she realized she had answered her own question.
“Sauron… Do you really think she doesn’t know?”
“Huh?”
“You’re obviously a dark wizard, and since you’re so old you have probably done more dark things than even You-Know-Who. It’s already obvious to me, and you do spend way more time with Sinistra than with me. Don’t look at me like that; you have “Astronomy Class” practically every night these days. So, I repeat, do you really think she doesn’t know?”
He raised his eyebrows in slight disbelief.
“I am… obviously… a dark wizard?”
“You are tall, creepy and gloomy, you talk about going to war like people here talk about going to the supermarket, you have the most macabre sense of humor and the darkest wand I’ve ever seen or heard of, when you get angry your eyes flame and the sky gets dark and cloudy, and on top of that you lived in this huge dark tower that couldn’t have been a more obvious evil lair if it had had a neon sign saying “EVIL LAIR”. Yes Sauron, you are obviously a dark wizard.”
She had a point. Again. 
“If I’m so obviously dark, then why do you spend time with me?”
Ginny gave him a half smile.
“Because I like you. Besides, you haven’t really killed or tortured anyone here yet, so I have nothing to hold against you even if I wanted to.”
He stared at the fourteen-year-old girl in astonishment. And to his surprise, he uttered.
“What do you suggest I do then?”
Ginny grinned.
“Have a sandwich. And then go see Professor Sinistra.”

(Author's Apologies)
On the topic of "fucking" in Black Speech.
Fucking is a present participle, and should therefor be translated as "Htolug". By example: kulat htolug, he is fucking. However, here "fucking" is used as an adjective, therefor I took the liberty of using the conjugation for adjectives, which would make it "Htolûrz". By example: Bolb htolûrz, a fucking disaster. 
Once again, I'm not an expert, I'm only learning myself...

TRANSLATIONS:
Htol-za…”(Fuck that...)
“Brosh, Sauron. Mal latum?” (Hi Sauron, what's up?)
“Brus-izg push.”(I have a problem.)
“Garn…”(Go on...)
“Shra dushuzat-ishi.” (Someone cursed me.) (Literally "a person cursed me")
“Mirz?” (Who?)
“Sauron, thlûk ob za! Badz dagronk rad!” (Sauron, enough of this! Open the door now!)
=> Correct would be "ta-ob", instead of "ob ta" but we all know how much people in Middle-Earth like easy pronunciation. Besides, this is an "error" made by Tolkien's orcs all the time, so I suppose it's okay. 
“Ginny, âdh-izish.” (Ginny, leave me.)
“Htolûrz" (Fucking)
“Tîr rad” (Right now)
“Awol hûr! Puzg fîgûz-lab!” (How dare you! Cease your insults!)
“Ukh kraat!” (Go away!)
"Flâgît lorz!” (Stupid idiot!)


Chapter 17 - On the matter of Evil, and other important things.

Chapter 17.
In which evil is discussed, and Sauron comes to understand a couple very important things.

He had eaten Ginny’s sandwiches, all thirty of them. Then he had played a game of wizard chess with her, avoided Precious Nibelungen, made a drawing of the Morannon, and generally felt ashamed for acting as he had done. Perhaps it was no surprise he had never managed to conquer Middle-Earth, if this was how he responded to a simple infatuation… He had considered Ginny silly and stupid for wanting to talk about and fawn over her love interest, but in retrospect the way he had acted was far sillier and stupider. Thankfully Ginny had the maturity –which surprised him still- not to mock him for it. The day had passed far too quickly to his liking, and now he was standing at the door of the Astronomy Tower, wringing his hands. He had commanded armies. He had brought about the downfall of whole kingdoms. He had singlehandedly killed thousands. And yet he almost couldn’t find the courage to open the damn door. When he eventually did, his heart was beating in his throat. He wanted to walk to the platform, but it wasn’t necessary. He had just turned when a bright voice sounded behind him.
“Sauron…”
Sinistra. She just wore her usual golden brown velvet robes, but in Sauron’s mind she looked more impressive than ever. He wanted to say something, but his tongue wouldn’t obey him. The astronomy professor beat him to it.
“You are troubled still.”
“I… I am.”
She came closer and smiled caringly.
“What troubles you?”
He couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t, for the words were stuck somewhere between his mind and his mouth. Eventually, he sighed.
“Have you ever seen evil, Sinistra?”
The dark woman looked at him, her obsidian eyes suddenly filled with sorrow. She stepped away and opened the door to the platform.
“Come.”
He followed her outside, and was met with a dark sky. Clouded with blackness. No doubt his foul mood had something to do with that… Sinistra didn’t look at him when she spoke.
“I have seen evil, Sauron. Or at least, I have seen what passes for it. In my homeland, people fight a lot. There is always war somewhere, with someone.” She turned and sent him a sad smile. “You know, to the people here all black men and women look alike. To them we are one people under the common denominator of our skin. Africans. But to us… We are divided in tribes and families, and we fight among each other, brutally killing our own. Kinslaying for the stupidest reasons first. My village wasn’t spared either.” She shook her head. “People here worry about a wizarding war, they think those death-eaters are the worst criminals possible. And maybe they are, in a way. Madmen following a bigger madman, on a quest that is doomed to fail… People can detach themselves from that and call them monsters. But I have seen different evil. People, just people like me, leaving home to kill other people just like me.”
Sinistra stared at the sky, where no stars could be seen thanks to the thick clouds.
“Evil is such a relative thing. It is in all of us, fundamentally a part of the world, incarnate in everything. We can all become merciless. I have seen my family, even my father who was a foreigner and one of the kindest people I know, kill others in defense of the village.”
“But…”
“And then later our people would attack themselves, retaliate on the enemy. They did whatever was necessary for what they believed in, and in that way they were no different from the insane death eaters. Evil has reasons.”
Sauron was struck by memories, again. Suddenly curious, he inquired,
“Have you ever…”
The Astronomy professor nodded.
“I was 15, and it was right before my Thwasa, although I didn’t know that then. The village was under attack, and men of an enemy tribe had entered. One tried to rape me, and when he pushed me down and tried to force himself on me, I disemboweled him with the knife I held on my belt. It was instinctual and I have never regretted it.”
Sauron tried to picture it, and startled at the instinctive hatred he suddenly felt towards that unknown man. Sinistra approached him and took his clenched hand in hers. It only served to tense him up more… 
“I know you come from a time and place of war, Sauron. I know you have committed evil, greater evil maybe than I can ever understand. But evil has reasons, and the Ancestors don’t lie.”
“I… I don’t understand it.”
It sounded pathetic, but Sauron couldn’t find anything else to say. That happened to him a frightening lot lately… 
“The Ancestors who told me of the foreign spirit I had to find also gave me the means to recognize him. I don’t have the words to describe it properly, I’m afraid. They acquainted me with you, let me know you so I would know when I found you.” She smiled and softly stroked his hand. “So I know you, Sauron. Better than I know anyone else. I know your soul.”
Sauron stared at her, trying to comprehend what she had told him. He was still trying to comprehend it when she lent forward and pressed her lips on his. That was the point where he gave up on comprehending and just followed the instinctual urge to wrap his arms around her and deepen the kiss. 
They kissed, and despite the cold night air their hands travelled and got rid of robes and other coverage, desperate to make more skin contact. The feeling was ecstatic and burning, both terrifying and wonderful, and it swept him away completely. Whatever was left protesting in his mind -reminding him that she was mortal, that he was the Dark Lord, and that this was not how he did things- faded into the feeling. Dark met with pale white, limbs entangled, and in a daze Sauron realized he now finally understood the difference between copulating and making love… then all relatively rational thoughts disappeared completely into the longing of two bodies, two souls, to be as close together as possible. They clawed at and wrestled with each other, bit, licked and kissed any piece of exposed skin… The wind carried their screaming and moaning to the ground, but there was no one to hear it. 
Sauron had lost awareness of time and space, the concepts had simply ceased to exist within the boundaries of what he could perceive... and everything he felt he felt with the whole of his fëa. It burned, scoured him by means of fire, but the pain was a pleasure like he had never known before. When at long last their bodies were exhausted, their minds succumbed to a blissful sleep. Right before he surrendered to oblivion, Sauron realized he could see the stars. The clouds had cleared…

The next morning, he woke up to a soft touch. Someone was slowly caressing his hair. He opened his eyes and saw Sinistra; her lean dark body sprawled seductively over their discarded robes and her black hair hanging unrestrained over her shoulders. She let her hand run through his black tresses and smiled, her face lit up in the soft morning light.
It took him a while to understand where he was; his mind was languid and slow, and for a couple moments his thoughts were narrowed down to just the pleasant touches. When understanding broke through his contented haze, he still barely believed it, barely believed that the night before had actually happened. That this beautiful creature loved him… it was more than he could process at the time. His head was fuzzy, and he felt a smile creep on his lips as he watched his lover. A real smile, without a trace of malice of mockery. How long had it been that he had last felt like this? It must have been thousands of years… Sinistra crawled closer to him, and he suppressed a moan when he felt her soft skin against his again. The strange magic was still there, even stronger now it seemed… She had a slightly mischievous look in her eyes when she kissed him, and Sauron had no choice to give in to the urge again. Needless to say he didn’t make it to classes that day…

Ginny met Sauron again after Potions class, and the moment she laid eyes on him she couldn’t stop herself from grinning. The Maia looked… different. He was still his imposing, intimidating self of course, and the air of doom and danger surrounding him was there as well… but something had changed. He seemed… radiant, almost. Which was a rather strange thing to see, considering that Sauron was a really dark being. Ginny didn’t think she had ever before perceived him as happy, but that was the unmistakable conclusion. Sauron Gorthaur was, doom and darkness aside, absolutely happy. 
“I take it your conversation with Sinistra went well?”
He seemed almost confused when she said that.
“How would you know?”
Her grin widened.
“You’re kind of glowing.”
He skeptically raised an eyebrow.
“Glowing?”
“Metaphorically.”
Sauron didn’t like that he was so… obvious. His ability to deceive was greatly based on being able to hide his true feelings, after all. Despite that, he only mildly frowned at Ginny. Warningly he remarked,
“It would be wise not to mock me.”
“Sure, I’m just happy for you. I have class now, so… hon-lat!” (See you!)
He watched the young redhead skip away, and decided to retreat to his own rooms. Now the pleasant befuddlement of his mind was starting to wear off, he realized there was a lot that had changed, and a lot he would have to rethink and re-strategize for…

There were many concerns. Sauron could remember only one other occasion of “cross-species” Maiar coupling, and that had been with one of the Eldar… and what trouble that pair had given him! He grumbled for a moment at the memory of Luthien. Sinistra however… he had learned that this species named Wizards commonly lived to see a hundred, sometimes even a hundred fifty, but that that was it. She was mortal and would pass beyond the circles of the world when she died. The thought of that made his chest constrict. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let that happen. He knew magic that could lengthen a mortal life almost indefinitely, not for nothing had he once been called the Necromancer. Death held no secrets from him. Námo would never get her in his greedy hands if it depended on him… The knowledge that Sinistra’s mortality was not his largest issue at hand somewhat comforted him. 
Sometimes Sauron still thought about the Valar and his punishment, but by now he was convinced that he had truly escaped them. He couldn’t imagine them wanting him to have even a speck of happiness, let alone the bliss he felt whenever he thought about the dark-skinned astronomer. The only possible conclusion was that he was free at last… His brief encounter with Irmo in the Gardens of Lòrien had been unsettling and hard to place in that context, but it had been a one-time event he could easily reason away as overactive imagination. After all, it was very unlikely that even his mind could visit Valinor without being detained and chastised. 
No matter how great his suspected freedom was, it also brought other issues with it. Since he would probably never return to Middle-Earth, he would have to make himself a living in this world. Completing his education wouldn’t be too much of an issue, he had already reached what they called NEWT level for a great deal of his courses… but then what? No matter how much he loved Sinistra, he didn’t think he could spend the rest of his immortal life doing the things they taught him here. This world’s magic was fascinating, useful and occasion entertaining, but he missed doing what he had loved back on Arda. Knowledge was power and therefor he never objected to acquiring more of it, but that wasn’t where his heart lay. He was a smith, a strategist and a warrior; he was at his best when working in a forge, or planning for and engaging in combat. Making things as well as destroying them… perhaps a strange combination? Either way, Sauron knew by now that in this world there was little need for swords, daggers and armor, and he still felt a certain reserve against jewelry crafting. As for strategy, he had amused himself with meddling in Ginny’s love life, but he could hardly make a career out of gossip mongering and insinuating, could he? Despite all he had learned in a short time, he still knew far too little of this world to make any plans or decisions, and lack of a plan never failed to unsettle him… He wanted to give Sinistra an empire, 

The Second Task of the famed triwizard tournament had passed without Sauron paying it much heed; he had been elsewhere with his mind. All he knew about it stemmed from Ginny’s overly verbose explanations of her love interest’s deeds, which he mostly tuned out of in the middle. The little redhead was, next to Sinistra, the only constant in his life, and annoying as she was, Sauron found he wouldn’t want to miss her. She had been pranked quite a lot when visiting the Ravenclaw Commonroom -courtesy of a very vengeful Cho Chang and company- but it had never deterred her much. When they had set her hair on fire though he had felt he needed to intervene, and practiced his Cruciatus on the Asian while hiding in a dark corner. He hadn’t told Ginny what he had done, but when the pranks ceased he was certain she knew he had done something. She had the courtesy to be grateful for it in silence and not pester him for details. He still wasn’t sure why he had done it –Ginny’s hair being on fire had been rather amusing after all- but for some reason he had had the urge to retaliate.
Her “issue” with Harry Potter was still unresolved, yet Sauron could clearly see that the black haired boy was interested in her. His interest in Cho had dwindled after the Asian’s “attack” on Ginny, and ever since he had been eyeing the redhead. Sauron still didn’t think that the scrawny boy was good enough for Ginny though… He stopped his thoughts right there. Not good enough for her? Why did he care about that? He wasn’t her brother; he didn’t need to protect her virtue! This world really had a strange influence on him… However, as always these days, Sauron found that strange didn’t necessarily mean bad. He shook his head to himself. For an immortal creature, a year was barely the blink of an eye compared to their lifespan... yet now, living among mortals for almost a year already, he realized he had done and encountered more than he sometimes did in two centuries. Because they had so little time, mortals seemed to cram as much as they could in their lives, impatiently trying to do anything and everything they set their minds to… Confusing and unpleasant as it had been in the beginning, now he was finally used to it Sauron was starting to enjoy it. Time was more valuable when there was –or seemed- little of it, and there was something invigorating about these mortal’s rushed lifestyle, something neither the Eldar, nor the Ainur had ever understood…


Chapter 18 - Sauron plays with fire, and Moody is left hanging.

Chapter 18.
In which Sauron plays with fire and Moody is left hanging.

Once a spy, always a spy; despite everything Sauron couldn’t help but keenly observe people. More specifically, Mad-Eye Moody. The Third Task was drawing near, and he had noticed how the DADA professor’s behavior had grown from erratic to truly concerning. Also, he was convinced that it was Moody who had cheated with the Goblet of Fire, and that he had been cheating throughout the whole game. For a lunatic he was doing pretty well at that… Sauron didn’t understand it though; he didn’t understand why the man wanted Harry Potter to win so badly… yet that was his goal, of that the Maia was certain. It still amused him greatly to watch the crazy man’s exploits, but these days he also felt… some kind of concern. So much concern in fact, that he often felt annoyed by himself. 
“Ginny.”
“Yes, Sauron?”
“I was wondering about your issue.”
The redhead smiled.
“Oh, everything’s going according to plan… He’s been hanging around me ever since the second task!” She grinned.” Your plan really worked.”
“Of course it did.”
Given his track record he didn’t think it was so certain that a plan of his would work, but then… he didn’t feel like saying that. 
“Have you seen what they’re doing to the Quidditch pitch? I’ve heard that they’re making a maze, and they’ll fill it with dangerous creatures the champions have to defeat and pass.”
“Creatures like?”
Ginny shrugged.
“I don’t know. Probably evil monsters Hagrid has been breeding. He’s the nicest guy, but there’s really something wrong with his perception of “sweet and adorable”. In his vocabulary, those terms usually describe something with large teeth, flaming tails, deadly eyes or poisonous stingers.”
The tales of Hagrid and his love of murderous beasts were numerous; Sauron admitted he had chuckled when hearing that the groundskeeper had been expelled for keeping a giant carnivorous spider in his trunk… it reminded him a bit of his old “pet” Shelob, who had been killed by those wretched Hobbits. A growl escaped him under his breath. 
“Sauron?”
He shot her a glare that was easily translated as, “I don’t want to talk about it”. Ginny knew by now that it was little use to pester him when he was like that, so she let it go. Ever since he was “together” with professor Sinistra, he had visibly been doing better, but the matter of his past was still a touchy subject. She had taken peace with it, telling herself that she probably didn’t want to know what he had done anyway. He hadn’t denied being a dark wizard who had done worse than You-Know-Who, after all…
“Is there anyone who wishes harm on your… issue?”
She chuckled.
“He has a name, you know.”
“A name I prefer not to use. Now answer the question.”
“Well, I suppose You-Know-Who wants him dead…”
“I thought this No-I-Don’t-Know-Who had been defeated by your issue when he was still a baby?”
Even in print they named the mysterious dark lord as “You-Know-Who” or “The One Who Should Not Be Named”. Sauron wondered what the man’s actual name was. It would be very ironic if his birth name were something totally mundane… Ginny shook her head, a little hesitant.
“He comes back. We don’t talk about it, but… Well, in my first year he was half of the DADA professor.”
Sauron raised his eyebrows and echoed disbelievingly.
“Half of the DADA professor?”
Ginny clarified,
“He sort of grew on the back of the guy’s head.”
Oh. Now that explains it. Sauron couldn’t help but smirk.
“Gives new meaning to the concept of two-faced, doesn’t it?”
Ginny had to snicker as well.
“If you look at it like that…”
“So, he came back after that?”
Ginny nodded. Her eyes got a bit of a worried glance. Sauron suddenly made the connection, hitting himself over the mental head for not seeing it before. He was so used to creatures being able to reincarnate after losing their hröa that he hadn’t realized how rare said feature was in this world… He knew what she was going to say before she even said it.
“In my first year… I found a diary. It was magical, and wrote back when I wrote in it. It also showed me visions, created a bit of a dream world for me, if you know what I mean. The diary took the form of a young man, and I fell in love with him the way little girls sometimes do.” She shrugged dismissively.  “I don’t really want to talk about it. But he was the guy I told you about, the one with the basilisk. He tried to consume my soul to become corporeal again. And he was almost completely corporeal again, when Harry defeated him. I was an inch from death.”
“And the diary, that was the same guy as the professor’s second face?”
Ginny nodded.
“It was. I doubt he’s going to give up, and one of these days he’s going to get himself a body.”
“And then he’ll go after your object of affection.”
“Definitely.”

They were lying on a soft bed this time, in Sinistra’s quarters in the top of the Astronomy Tower. Sauron slowly stroked the back of his lover, fingertips barely gracing the dark skin. He couldn’t help himself; even after all they’d done already the need to touch her wasn’t sated. He didn’t understand it, like he didn’t understand a lot of things in this world, but he didn’t care. Her eyes were closed, and she looked peaceful, as if she were sleeping. Observing her, a word escaped his lips, a sigh almost.  
“Maathûn…”
She smiled languidly and opened her eyes, showing that she hadn’t been asleep.
“What does that mean?”
Sauron felt a slight blush on his cheeks. It was a word in Black Speech that he honestly hadn’t thought anyone speaking Black Speech would ever need. 
“Sweetheart.”
Her smile widened and she crawled up a bit, wiping her black tresses from her hair.
“That’s beautiful.”
He softly smiled at her, internally still surprised with the turn events had taken in his life. Although it sometimes seemed as if they spent all their time entangled in bliss, they did much more than just make love. Sauron didn’t think he had ever spoken so much and so honestly with anyone in his entire life. Things he couldn’t and wouldn’t ever tell anyone else seemed to leave his lips easily when he was with her, and he never feared that she wouldn’t understand. Somehow he just knew she understood.
When she had told him that it was her task, her “Calling”, to heal him, he hadn’t known what to think of it. But as time passed, he had come to see that healing him was exactly what she did, even though he didn’t understand how. The unstructured mess of anger and painful memories that he called his mind felt less chaotic after every time they met, be it in the flesh or just for astronomy and conversation. Whatever brought that on, he was grateful for it…  It must be that he had looked distracted, because Sinistra remarked,
“Sometimes, it seems as if you sleep with your eyes open… Do you?”
Returning his thoughts to the here and now, he nodded.
“It’s a thing my species does. We only close our eyes to sleep when extremely exhausted.
With our eyes open we maintain a certain subconscious awareness, although we do dream.”
Sinistra laughed.
“Constant vigilance, then?”
And although said in innocence, it brought his mind back to the issue of Mad-Eye Moody. He frowned.
“I… I suppose.” He hesitated. “Sinistra… what do you think of your colleague, Moody?”
The astronomy professor softly shook her head and sighed.
“A lost soul, that one. I think he has used so many disguises over time that he has forgotten who he actually is.”
“So… you wouldn’t say he’s… dangerous?”
She looked at him, her obsidian orbs deeply sincere.
“Sauron, would you call yourself dangerous?”
Yes, very much so. But he wasn’t unhinged like that lunatic professor, now was he? He frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Sinistra cocked her head to the side a bit.
“You know what I mean.”
Perhaps he did. If he had fallen back into Middle-Earth instead of this world… Now he thought about it, Sauron was happy he hadn’t. The strangeness of this new world had saved him from going on a quest for power that–in retrospect- probably would have been doomed to fail anyway. Not to mention that he had met Sinistra here. He smirked.
“Perhaps I do.”
“Why were you asking?”
Good question. Why had he asked? The disguise of Mad-Eye Moody had been egging him ever since he had discovered the man wasn’t only disguised but crazy as well. It was an issue he wanted to solve. Perhaps the fact that the professor appeared to threaten Ginny’s love interest had something to do with it as well. No matter the reasons, Sauron thought fast, an idea suddenly popping up in his mind.
“What if, hypothetically, I would ask to use your tower for a couple hours? Would you trust me?”
Sinistra’s eyes widened in surprise.
“My quarters?”
“No, just the part you use for classes, and the outside platform.”
She frowned.
“From your wording I take that you would not tell me what you need the location for.”
“I...” He sighed. “I would probably tell you if you asked, but in this hypothetical situation it might be better for you if you didn’t ask.”
Sinistra’s lips quirked into a half-smile.
“Well… I would not ask you specifically what you want to do, in this “hypothetical” situation… but I do think I would want to know what the ultimate purpose of your actions is.”
“What if it were to help someone, perhaps even protect someone?”
She nodded pensively. 
“I could hardly say no to that.” She sent him a knowing but not unkind glance. “Some ends, after all, justify the means, don’t they?”
“I believe they do, indeed.”
Sauron thought the conversation over for now, but then Sinistra turned around in bed, stretched, and remarked.
“Professor Dumbledore invited me on a staff brunch tomorrow, to celebrate the third task and almost-ending of the tournament. I won’t be here from ten until the start of the task…” She smiled conspiratorially. “I just thought to let you know, so you don’t climb all the way up here for nothing.”
Never mind that he never came here in the morning, unless he had stayed the night. Sauron’s respect for Sinistra got upped a couple notches right then and there.
“Thank you, for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome…” 
Her fingers tangled in his hair, and he shivered, both from the touch itself and the anticipation. There was no stopping it, he knew, the urge was too strong. Fighting against the longing of his fëa was a losing battle… it was probably also the only battle he didn’t mind losing. Just a little later he was utterly defeated, and perfectly content with that state of affairs…

It had been simple, childishly simple actually. A note was all it took, a note and some simple transfigurations. Sauron was positively giddy as he stood in the empty Astronomy Tower, overviewing his “trap”. Using the fire irons from the Ravenclaw Commonroom he had transfigured the necessary equipment. The final product wasn’t really to the liking of his inner smith, but… it would do. The note had been simple blackmail, stating that someone had seen through Moody’s disguise and knew who he really was, and wanted money to keep it secret. The Astronomy Tower had been named as meeting place. A sane or undisguised person would discard it as a bad joke, but Sauron knew that Moody was paranoid, and had enough to hide to take it seriously. He would most likely come to the tower with the intent of killing the suspected extortionist... The soft scratching of a peg leg on the stairs told him that his guess had been correct. Quickly, the Maia hid himself in the shadow…
When the door opened the trap was activated, and all Sauron had to do was watch.  Transfigured chains magically wrapped themselves around the entering person, who squeaked in surprise and indignation. So much for constant vigilance… 
“Expelliarmus!”
In the moment of surprise that came with the chaining and consequent lifting from the floor, Sauron easily disarmed the professor. The man now dangled from the ceiling, wrapped in a thin but strong metal chain. He wrestled, and Sauron was quite certain he was already trying to cut or file through the deceptively meager bindings… but it would be to no avail. After all, if there was one thing Sauron was good at, it was putting intent and magic in metal contraptions. These chains weren’t exactly Angainor, but they would do just fine. Moody’s magical eye saw him before he stepped into the light. 
“You! I should have known!”
Sauron smirked.
“Yes, you should have. Constant vigilance and all that.”
“What do you want?!”
“Information.”
The man in the chains laughed insanely.
“What for? Do you think you can still do anything about it? What is done is done! It is done! My master will rise again!”
The man still believed that he knew who he really was, Sauron realized, and therefor he didn’t even try to hide his true intent. Well, that would come in handy. 
“Let’s see what you have to hide in your pockets. Accio pocket content.”
A load of things flew at Sauron. As he had suspected, a magical pocket knife, a whole lot of tiny things he had no idea what they were for, a piece of candy he recognized as an Acid Pop, and a pocket flask with an unidentified liquid. Sauron was still a complete disaster at potions, so he had no idea what the substance was or did. A drop on the floor showed at least that it wasn’t corrosive. A couple spells later, he had rid Moody of his magical eye, his peg leg, and his arm prosthesis. 
“I must say, it’s a marvelous disguise.”
“What do you WANT?!”
“Don’t yell at me. Do you realize that I could “accio” your other eye as well?”
“Your threats are nothing to the torture I have gone through to serve my master. They are naught next to his impending victory! My plan will succeed!”
Sauron felt a familiar surge of adrenaline, the one he always got when entering the torture chambers of Angband. He smiled viciously.
“Yes, about that… I am quite interested in the details of your plan…”
“I will not betray my master! I rather die!”
“Oh, I am quite certain you’ll wish for death in a couple moments…”
“Your threats are empty!”
Sauron’s eyes glowed dangerously orange, not with anger but with excitement. 
“I know quite a few people who would disagree. First, let’s see if I can bring your teachings into practice… Crucio!”
Gleefully, he watched how the man screamed in agony. This spell was more fun than he had thought it would be, and far less of a mess than his usual techniques… The man continued defying him though, so after a while there was no other way than to resort to the messy stuff. Usually he took his time to break his victims, but in this “session” he was pressed for time. 
“You know, I like fire. According to your school’s textbooks, controlling magical fire is very hard… I don’t seem to have any problem with it though.”
“I… I will not… not speak! The Dark Lord will prevail!”
Sauron chuckled.
“That he will indeed. Fiendfyre!”
Of all spells he had learned so far, Fiendfyre was Sauron’s favorite spell. Fire was his element after all, and he had found that he had virtually complete control over the flames when cast. Smiling, he watched how fire started to devour Moody’s remaining leg, making the man wail again. The scent of burnt flesh started to fill the Astronomy tower… There was something beautiful about fire, Sauron mused. Burning wasn’t only painful, it also activated a primal survival instinct in mortal creatures, probably more than the cruciatus curse did. As he observed Moody, he saw that the chains he was wrapped in were starting to become hotter and hotter, heat from his burning leg travelling through the metal. Great. It wouldn’t take long now.
“Please, PLEASE! AAARGH! Make it STOP! MAKE IT STOOOP!”
There you had it. 
“Will you talk?!”
“PLEASE, AAAAARGH! AAAAH! I… I WILL! AAAH!”
Sauron waved his wand, uttering the counterspell to “kill” the demonic flames… and rubbed his hands.
“Go on.”
“It’s all done already… You can’t do anything about it anymore…”
“I decided for myself what I can and cannot do. Now tell me about your plan. Or do you really feel you have no need for arms either?”
And Moody spilled his secrets. Most of the time he had found, in Angband, that the “spilling of the secrets” was a little anticlimactic. Now however, he listened with great interest. And interesting it was… When the man was done, he pondered over what to do with him. He could just let him hang there… but what would be the fun in that? He looked at the platform outside, and suddenly came up with a marvelous idea. With a wave of his wand he detached the chains from their anchor-point on the ceiling, and floated outside with him. Moody was obviously worried. As he should be, Sauron thought with a grin.
“W-what… what are you going to do to me?!”
“Well, I think I’m going to revisit a fond memory.”
He floated Moody over the edge of the platform, and attached the end of the chain firmly around the balustrade. It wasn’t exactly Thangorodrim, but –as everything in this situation- it would do. Sauron snickered.
“You don’t happen to have a cousin, do you?”
Without waiting for answer, he released the spell that kept the man floating. He didn’t think anyone would hear him –he also didn’t think the guy would remain conscious much longer- but just to be safe he also cast a silencing spell on his dangling victim. Gleefully he exclaimed,
“I’m off now, feel free to hang around!”
Eru, he was making Irmo’s eye jokes seem funny by comparison… Standing on the platform, he could see that the tournament had started already. Damn. He took a quick look as to where the Gryffindor’s were sitting, and then rushed out of the Astronomy tower. He had to find Ginny… 

(Author's Apologies)
For once and for all is proven: Sauron did not go soft because of Sinistra. I think it's not so strange that he would have very good control of fiendfyre, after all fire is his element, and he IS a Maia. 
Also, Angband jokes. They're probably Irmo's influence xD Sauron will soon know the power of PUNS xD

TRANSLATIONS:
Maathûn-izub = my sweetheart, my beloved. 
Yes, you can actually say that in Black Speech. It's basically a combination of "maath" (sweet) and "hûn" (heart).


Chapter 19 - Plans, Swords, and Accidental Teleportation

Chapter 19.
In which there is no plan, Sauron gets a sword, and accidental teleportation occurs.

She had not expected it, at all. Although, she should have known that rarely anything good came from Sauron grabbing her shoulder in a public place and saying her name on that doom-unto-you tone. 
“Ginny.”
“Oh, Sauron, there you are! You’re late, they’ve already departed into the…”
He rudely interrupted her.
“I know I’m late. Skaat-izisha rad.”
She frowned.
“Huh?”
“Ask questions later. Now come with me.”
“But…”
“If you care about your “issue” then you come with me. Now.”
Ginny saw Sauron’s eyes, and knew there was no arguing with him now. Grumbling, she followed him. It was surprising how little attention people paid to them… She wondered what could be important enough for him to drag her away from the tournament like that… 
“Your DADA professor is a death eater. The Triwizard cup is tampered with, it will portkey your love interest not back to the school but to a place names Little Hangleton, where You-Know-Whoever-It-Is is waiting for him.”
Now that was fairly important indeed. Ginny paled.
“W-what?”
Sauron glared impatiently. 
“Does your school have an armory of some sort?”
“What?”
“Don’t repeat yourself.”
“W-we have to tell Dumbledore! A-And how do you know this anyway?”
Ginny seriously considered the possibility that Sauron had lost it after all. The Maia frowned deeply and explained annoyed.
“I know, because your DADA teacher is currently hanging from the Astronomy Tower balcony with another leg less and a couple nice new burn marks. Which brings me to the reason we can’t tell Dumbledore; my methods of gathering information are slightly unorthodox, and I don’t feel like being arrested. We have to stop him from taking the cup ourselves. So I ask you again, does your school have any weapons?”
Ginny blinked a couple times. Still in shock, she asked.
“D-Don’t you have your wand?”
He rolled his flaming eyes –quite a sight- and uttered.
“I meant real weapons. Swords, maces, daggers, spears, things like that.”
“Err… There is always the Sword of Godric Gryffindor… That’s what Harry used to slay the basilisk.”
Ginny didn’t know why she told him, when he had just told her he had all but tortured a professor to death, but she did. 
“Where is it?”
“In the headmaster’s office…”
A little later, they were standing in front of the Griffin who supposedly guarded the door. Ginny hesitantly said,
“The password is always some kind of candy…”
“Acid Pops.”
Sauron said, without thinking. To Ginny’s surprise, the Griffin moved aside and showed the stairs to the headmaster’s office.
“How… How did you know that?”
“Your dear professor Moody had it all but written on a note in his pocket. Now where is that sword?”
Ginny had thought the sword had been put on display in the office after Harry using it, but she didn’t see it anywhere. Where could it be? After Harry had pulled it from the Hat... Right. The Hat.
“Where is it?”
Sauron repeated his question, which was never a good sign.
“I… I think it’s in the Hat.”

“What?”
Another voice than Ginny’s answered him.
“I think she was talking about me, Mr Gorthaur.”
They both looked up, and saw the Sorting Hat, sitting on a shelf. The thing looked smug. Sauron clenched his fists.
“How can any decent sword be in that hat?!”
He had no idea why he had decided to get involved in this whole debacle. He could have just waited it out and watched what would happen. Why had he decided torturing that crazy professor had been a good idea? Now he couldn’t turn back and…
“You want the sword, no?”
Ginny took the hat from the shelf and politely asked.
“Mr. Hat, can I please have the sword?”
Sauron rolled his eyes again.
“Don’t even try. The thing hates me.”
“No, miss Weasley, I will not give you the sword. You are a true and very worthy Gryffindor my dear, but the sword must be pulled out of me by the one who will wield it.”
Sauron growled.
“Well, will you give it to me then?”
“Magic word, Mr. Gorthaur?”
Ginny decided that the Hat was either very courageous, or very stupid. Given that it had belonged to Gryffindor himself, it could be both. 
“Can I “please” have the damn sword, or do I have to set you on fire for it?”
“You do like setting things on fire, don’t you?”
“Answer the htolûrz question, Hat.” 
Sauron hissed between his teeth in anger and annoyance.
“Well, I would have to see for that…”
“See what?”
“Only a true Gryffindor can pull the sword out of me. So, I have to see if you have miraculously changed from a reluctant Ravenclaw into a true Gryffindor.”
Ginny honestly thought Sauron would incinerate the Hat right then and there. He didn’t however; he grabbed the thing and put it on his head with a resolute movement.
“Go ahead.”
It was probably the grimmest voice Ginny had ever heard him use. And that meant a lot, because he practically always sounded grim. While she was looking around in the office, eyeing the sleeping paintings and wondering how long it would take before they would get expelled, Sauron was having a conversation with the Hat.
“Well Mairon, you’ve come a long way I see. I am surprised.”
“Give me the fucking sword, Hat.”
“No really, I am positively baffled. You are actually risking your own safety for someone else, someone you don’t like, simply because he’s the love interest of your little sister?”
“She is NOT my little sister. I am a Maia, I don’t have any sisters or brothers.”
“You’re treating her like one.”
“Hat…”
His thoughts held a warning tone, but the garment was entirely insensitive to it.
“What? I’m telling you the truth, which you already know by the way. You care about the girl. And that’s why you’re doing this.”
“Why I’m doing this is entirely unimportant. And if you don’t give me the sword, it won’t matter anyway.” 
“Fine, fine, always impatient aren’t you? You’re brash, pigheaded and bizarrely brave enough all of a sudden to pass for a Gryffindor… if I squint a bit. Take me off and you’ll have your sword.”
And indeed, when Sauron took off the hat and stuck his hand in it, he suddenly felt the hilt of a sword. In one movement he pulled it out, dropping the hat to the floor and causing Ginny to gasp.
“You did it!”
He raised an eyebrow, with a smug look that would have made Fëanor jealous. 
“Of course I did. Now are we going to waste more time?”
They left, leaving the Hat on the floor to lament its unfavorable position…

It was not a well thought out plan. It wasn’t. In all honesty, you couldn’t even call it a plan in the first place. Ginny had nicked a spear from one of the suits of armor (causing great indignation from the thing) and Sauron had his sword, and apparently their plan for getting into the maze was chopping their way through the greenery. Sauron really wondered what had possessed him to start this doomed quest… The sword the Hat had given him was lightweight, but well made and with a good balance. Not really what he was used to but then, when was anything in this world, ever? He hoped the thing would serve its purpose. When they had gotten into the maze, Ginny exclaimed.
“Do you even know the way?! This place is full of monsters!”
“You have a weapon and a wand. You can defend yourself.”
“I’m a third year!”
“Don’t. Nag.” He reached into his coat pocket and found one of the possessions he had confiscated from Moody. The magical eye. 
“What is that?”
“An eye. It will help us find the way.”
There was –as usual- a strange and not entirely unamusing irony in the situation. As it was however, he wasn’t in the mood to even smirk about it. He put the eye on, wincing at the unpleasant sensation of the device pressing against his actual eyeball. The thing obviously wasn’t made to be worn by a person still possessing two eyes, and the perception through it was odd and rather nauseating. 
“Htol-za…” 
“Do you see anything?”
“I see a lot. That’s the problem.”
It took him a while to get used to the eye, and the way it apparently responded to his mind. As soon as he discerned what was left, right, up and down though, they could go. Thanks to the eye they could see through the greenery, which was rather useful as long as he kept track of what was path and what was greenery, and not –as he had done at first- directed a course straight through the bushes. 
Sauron thought back to the origins of his “plan”. He had been lying naked in Sinistra’s bed, mind slightly dazed from their previous activities, when he had decided that torturing the information out of Mad-Eye Moody was a good idea. When was anything decided right after sex a good idea? When had he become infected with stupidity? This was complete madness… 

They had been going for a while, when suddenly…
“What… is that?”
It looked like a giant, slimy crab. With a scorpion tail. Sauron pulled off the Eye and looked at the creature with his normal eyesight. He couldn’t help but slightly admire the beast. It was ferocious and disgusting… Why hadn’t he had things like these back in the War? They would have taught those Hobbits a lesson… Peaking around a green wall of shrubbery, they watched the animal. Ginny swallowed audibly.
“Oh no. Blast-Ended Screwts.” She whispered next to him. “The fourth years were talking about them; they’re a combination of Manticores and Fire Crabs. Fucking lethal! Poisonous, and they also throw fire, apparently. And most spells deflect from their shells.”
Sauron grinned.
“I can handle fire. Weak spots?”
“Err…” Ginny looked at him. “I didn’t have those classes, you know! I’m a third year!”
He gave her a pointed look, and flexed his sword arm.
“Then we’ll have to improvise.”
“Can’t we just… go around it?”
“No.”
Ginny tightly grasped both the spear and her wand. There was no way this could possibly end well… She bit her lip, and uttered surprisingly combative.
“Fine then. Bring it on.”
If she were going to die by Blast-Ended Screwt, she would at least die a worthy Gryffindor, like the Hat had called her. Together, they went around the bush, immediately attracting the attention of the creature. With a fiery blast from its backside, the thing practically catapulted itself at them. Ginny had no time to even scream when the beast came at her, it’s stinger ready for attack. She held her spear in front of her and braced herself for what she believed would be a world of agony… that never came. She opened her eyes again and saw to her great surprise that the Screwt was dead. By some expected miracle her spear had stopped the beast’s stinger from reaching her, and that delay had given Sauron the time to drop himself on the ground and jab his sword in the creature’s belly. Ginny was in shock. Again. 
“H-How…”
“The belly is the weak spot of crabs. It’s also the weak spot of dragons. Actually, it’s a weak spot in general.”
Sauron didn’t sound too coherent when he crawled up from under the dead beast, his robes stained with Screwt-blood. He did sound, Ginny noted, rather excited. 
“Grab your spear, I foresee more monsters…”
Was it her imagination, or did that sound a tit bit gleeful? Ginny dearly hoped she was mistaken…

Sauron couldn’t help it: he was having fun. It had been far too long since he last had last wielded a sword… They continued their trip through the forest, when they heard screaming. Either a monster had caught someone, or another contestant had decided to eliminate the competition. Either way, good for them. He pulled Ginny with him, who looked worried in the direction of the sound.
“Whatever that is, we don’t need to know. This way.”
They went on, encountering a bunch of ugly, beardless dwarves with red hats and unusually long nails, who readily attacked them. Redcaps. Ginny decapitated one with a cutting hex, Sauron staked one on his sword, another one got –literally- stuck on Ginny’s spear until Sauron killed it, and then the rest of the hoard took a run for it. 
“Weak foes…”
“At least something to be glad for.”
Ginny was starting to understand the fun in these things; the adrenaline, fear and worry were making her feel slightly lightheaded. She shared a wicked grin with Sauron, who pulled her spear from a dead Redcap and handed it back to her. Then their journey continued… She didn’t notice Sauron’s eyes on her. The Maia felt slightly proud of the girl the Hat had dubbed his “little sister”. For one with only fourteen years of age and no fighting experience she was holding herself remarkably well… With her red hair, bloodstained clothes and fierce expression, he noted to his amusement that she reminded him of someone, despite the lack of actual physical resemblance. It must be her character… maybe a feisty temperament was a general side effect of having a lot of brothers…
He was broken from his musings by the sight of a big, dead spider. Sauron pulled off the Eye. 
“Someone was here before us… I don’t think we’re far anymore.” 
They weren’t far anymore indeed, but the cup was nowhere to be seen in the circular central space of the maze. Ginny suddenly seemed dejected, and tears appeared in her eyes as she dropped to her knees.
“Oh no… He already got the cup…”
Sauron rolled his eyes. Fine, it was an annoying situation, especially after all their effort, but there was still a chance that another contestant had gotten the cup first. 
“Don’t wail.”
“You-Know-Who will kill him!”
“You don’t know that. Either way, you can’t really do anything about it anyway, unless you know a way to get to Little Hangleton, wherever or whatever that may be. If you happen to know a way to just wish us there, feel free.”
Ginny sighed.
“Oh, if only you had your apparating license already…”
“My what?”
She blinked.
“Apparition is instantaneous transportation to any place you want. My brothers practiced in the garden when they had their license exam coming up…” Suddenly she grinned. “It works with the Three D’s.”
Sauron gave her a puzzled look.
“What?”
“Destination, Determination, Deliberation.” She frowned. “I think. You concentrate on where you want to go, and apparently you just go, then. But you’ve never gotten your license it can be very da…” 
Ginny didn’t have the chance to finish her sentence, because a loud bang resounded, and Sauron had disappeared. She bit her lip.
“Oh snap…”

TRANSLATIONS:
(by now you should know the basic curses in Black Speech, because here they are again)
Htol-za = fuck this
Htolûrz = fucking


Chapter 20 - A Hands-On Approach To the Problem

Chapter 20.
In which Sauron goes for a hands-on approach to the problem.

Perhaps it hadn’t been his best idea ever, doing what Ginny described while she was still describing it… But then, a lot of ideas he had had lately didn’t score too high on his “best ever” list. Apparition was a nauseating, unpleasant affair that made him feel as if he was being squished through a tiny hole and elongated at the same time. It was a rather confusing sensation, so confusing that he didn’t realize at first that he had reached his destination. A screech brought him back to reality.
“Who is THAT?!”
He looked up, and was met with a rather repulsive man. White skin, red eyes, no real nose, and a snarling mouth. Sauron could see why they called him You-Know-Who; he could honestly not think of what to call this type. He seemed corporeal though, so probably he had already performed his ritual to get a body. Sauron also caught sight of completely confused Harry Potter, tied to some sort of monument, and the apparently dead body of another boy. Interesting. He grinned at the dark wizard, eyes glowing dangerously.
“I’m known by many names… You can call me Sauron.”
The man snarled, and a hairy little servant that had been scurrying on the ground around him suddenly mewled.
“Have you come to pledge allegiance to my Lord Voldemort?”
That earned him the magical equivalent of a slap in the face from the wizard, who was apparently named Voldemort. Good, now he at least didn’t have to address the man as “You-Know-Who”. Sauron chuckled.
“I don’t pledge allegiance to anyone lesser than myself.”
Voldemort’s voice was cold.
“You dare insult me? Wormtail, kill him. We’ll see who is lesser…”
The servant produced a wand and aimed at Sauron, exclaiming a killing curse that he easily dodged. The Maia grinned. How amusing. What was it with groveling idiots serving weak wizards, and the prefix “worm”? 
“Experience proves that I tend to be hard to kill, even for people who can aim.”
He flicked his wand, not even needing to pronounce the curse, and fire enveloped Wormtail, making the man scream in utter agony while the flames devoured him. 
“Now, can we talk without you trying to separate my fëa from this body? I’ve grown rather fond of it lately.”
Meanwhile, the demonic flames had quickly eaten all of Wormtail, except what appeared to be a metal hand-prosthesis. Voldemort seemed both angered and baffled. Sounding honestly curious he asked,
“What are you?”
Sauron shrugged.
“That doesn’t matter much. I’m not here to discuss myself.”
Voldemort opened his mouth to answer, when suddenly a series of popping sounds resounded, and the dark place filled with other people. More servants, Sauron guessed from the way they looked. He waved his wand again, and a circle of fire surrounded them before they could even reach for their wands.
“If you don’t want your servants to die like that one over there…” he pointed at the ashy remains of Wormtail, “Tell them not to try and leave the circle.”
Sauron enjoyed it. He actually enjoyed it; the feeling of power the whole situation gave him was exquisite… 
“If you think a little fire will deter them…” Voldemort growled at the new arrivals. “Prove your loyalty to me!”
One attempted to apparate out of the circle immediately, but flames surrounded him before he could do anything, making his screams echo through the place. Sauron smirked.
“As I said, if you don’t want them to die, tell them to stay put. This is between you and me.”
“What exactly do you hope to reach with this?! Controlling the fire will exhaust you. Do you honestly believe you can beat me in a duel?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
Voldemort took a wand from his robes, snarling at Sauron still, but a little apprehensive already. He himself had a good control of Fiendfyre, but this strange wizard named Sauron was admittedly brilliant with it… not to mention that he seemed to have no qualms with murdering people. No matter what he had said, Voldemort knew the man would be a formidable opponent.
“We shall see.”
Dodging another killing curse with a physically challenging back-bend, Sauron rolled his eyes.
“Can we just accept that this is not going to work?” He sighed. “Let’s say, for every killing curse I dodge, I get to kill one of your servants. Maybe that’ll change your mind.”
He promptly added deed to the word, and the fiendish flames of the circle wrapped themselves around one of the other death eaters, scorching and burning him while his wails filled the air. Voldemort realized he was stuck, and lowered his wand.
“What is it you want to discuss?”
Sauron glared, a vicious smirk around his lips.
“I heard you like little girls.” Voldemort’s red eyes widened in surprise, and Sauron couldn’t help but snicker internally at the man’s expression. He continued, “In particular, one little girl that I’ve grown rather fond of. I wasn’t pleased to hear that you apparently tried to have her soul for dinner.” Voldemort didn’t seem to know what he was talking about. Sauron rolled his eyes. “Red hair, rather small posture, feisty attitude, curses in Black Speech like a drunken orc but can’t write legible Tengwar to save her life? Sounds familiar?” Voldemort eyed him suspiciously. 
“I don’t know what you speak of.”
Most unusual… Sauron frowned.
“Strange. I was rather certain that was you, disguised as a diary. Which is -as far as corporeal manifestations go- a rather impractical disguise, by the way. Even my worst wasn’t that bad, I could at least see something.” Then he grinned at Voldemort in a most menacing manner. “Speaking of seeing…”
Before Voldemort could do anything, Sauron focused his glowing eyes on him, and a mental attack attempted to break through his defenses. He didn’t get in immediately, after all Voldemort was a skilled Occlumens, but when a powerful Maia really wants to see in your mind there’s not much you can do to stop him. A little later, Sauron shifted freely through memories and thoughts, occasionally chuckling as Voldemort growled, powerless to stop him. 
“This is ironic. A ring, really? Evil minds think alike, apparently.”
“Get out of my mind!”
“Hmm… Interesting…”
The dark wizard tried a couple futile attempts to block him from seeing certain things, but that only drew his attention to those things. Sauron was starting to see what Voldemort had done, and why he didn’t know anything about the diary’s activities. It was hard to keep track of what a piece of your soul did after you had cut it off from yourself, after all. He knew that well enough; if it were easy he would never have lost track of his Ring. Not that the thing had been a piece of his soul, exactly… Perhaps it was, he suddenly mused. After all, the body he had gotten when falling out of the Void missed a finger, meaning that his fëa was fundamentally incomplete… There was more to it, but the mind of an enemy wasn’t really the best place to overthink such things, he decided. He knew enough for now, and retreated from the wizard’s mind. Voldemort was experiencing some sort of post-violent-legilimency-shock, it seemed; his red eyes had glazed over slightly and he didn’t immediately respond to Sauron’s leaving. The Maia didn’t hesitate to make use of the distraction. Perhaps he should have killed the wizard, but for some reason that wasn’t what he did. Instead he grabbed the silver prosthesis from the ground, studied it for a moment, and right when Voldemort woke up from his trance he swung his sword and cut off the wizard’s wand-hand, which brought his amount of collected hands on two. Sudden fire blazed as a wall between the screaming Voldemort and him, keeping the wizard and his servants away from him and the still-chained Harry Potter. The boy appeared to be in a state of shock. Holding both the silver hand and the bleeding, scaly one from Voldemort, he cut the ties that bound Harry to the stone statue. 
“Y-You… W-Why…”
Sauron shrugged.
“I don’t really know. I just thought to help Ginny a hand. She likes you, for some reason.” He caught Harry staring at the hands he was holding, and rolled his eyes. “Pun not intended. Now, who’s the dead guy?”
“C-Cedric…”
Sauron knew that whatever he could say about Cedric Diggory, it would probably not please Harry, and for once he had the wisdom to hold his tongue.
“Can you carry him? I sort of have my hands full.” Again, that stare. “Pun. Not. Intended.” Irmo would love this. If the Vala of Dreams could see this, he would probably disincarnate from laughter. Sauron could see the amusement value as well, but since he had one dead guy, one shell-shocked guy, and a bunch of angry wizards behind a wall of fire on his hands, he decided to keep the laughter for a later time. 
“Any idea how we get back to Hogwarts?”
Harry pointed at the discarded Triwizard Cup. 
“It’s a portkey…”
“Great. You ready?”
“W-what about Voldemort?”
“He can make himself a nice new hand. The fire will disappear after we’ve gone… or it will devour them all, I’m not sure. Either way, it won’t be our problem anymore.”
“You… you b-burned them…”
“My methods may be unorthodox, but they work, don’t they?”
Harry hesitated, a look of complete shock and terror in his eyes. Eventually Sauron sighed.
“Eru, I don’t understand how you have ever slain a basilisk, really.” 
Sauron grabbed Harry by the wrist, not caring that the boy’s hand touched with his “trophies”, and grabbed the cup. In a flash, they arrived back at Hogwarts, where immediately a tumult broke loose at the sight of not one, but three arrivals, of which one dead and one not allowed to be there. Sauron dropped Harry and Cedric, and walked with great strides to the Jury Table. With a sickening “splotch” he dropped the scaly hand of Voldemort right in front of Dumbledore. Dryly he remarked.
“Bad news. Voldemort is back.” 
Making that announcement was another action ranked high on the list of “things he should not have done.” There was screaming, crying, yelling, and other loudness that Sauron just wasn’t really prepared for. Standing there, bloody and slightly overwhelmed, he suddenly heard a familiar voice over all the ruckus.
“Sauron Gorthaur! Lat lûk kruf-ob! Lat hag bagthroqûg! Olog pushdug!”
Heads turned, and Ginny -a very bloody, limping Ginny who supported on her spear- approached them. She glared daggers at Sauron.
“How DARE you leave me alone like that!?”
“Err…”
“I was worried SICK! I thought you had splinched yourself! You could have ended up anywhere, for all I knew! In the mountains of Uruguay! Or in Antarctica!”
There was something bizarre about being scolded by a girl half your size and but a fraction of your age… Especially when she called you a whore's son, a stinking troll, and a shit-eating bastard. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“What did you do?”
She frowned.
“What does it look like I did? I tried to find the way back out, of course! Those damn redcaps wouldn’t leave me alone until I killed them all! Not to mention the burning stones, or the Sphinx, or that damn mist trap! And all that, Sauron Gorthaur, because I was worried about YOU!”
It was a bizarre feeling indeed… Surprisingly enough, Sauron felt not a speck of anger at Ginny. He grinned uncharacteristically. 
“I saved your love interest though. And I got you revenge.”
That was the point where Ginny became more aware of her surroundings. And with every bit she became aware she paled more. Eventually she just fainted. Great response that was… Sauron caught her, while he closed his eyes and silently cursed the Valar. He had braved a cantankerous hat, Monster-Crab-Scorpions, bloodthirsty dwarves, accidental teleportation, Fiendfyre, and an -albeit inferior- dark lord… but something told him that his problems were only just beginning…

Harry, Ginny, and Cedric’s body were brought to the sickbay, and Sauron got to brave the headmaster and some other officials for a major Third Degree, not even given the time to get rid of all the blood on him. A lot of things were not in his favor, beginning with the body of Barty Crouch Junior, found hanging from the Astronomy Tower… However, the potion in the man’s pocket flask turned out to be polyjuice potion that changed one into Alastor Moody, which somewhat confirmed Sauron’s story, and as for his announcement of Voldemort’s return, it was hard to deny the physical evidence he had so kindly brought with him. Cherry on the pie was the information he had gained from Voldemort’s mind though… What he knew about the dark lord’s horcruxes, the victims used for each one, and the places Voldemort had hidden them not only proved his story, it also was invaluable information in the fight against the man. In all honesty, Sauron had just shifted through the wizard’s mind out of curiosity, but the information became his rescue. After a five-hour interrogation, he was released at last, although Dumbledore wanted to see him first thing in the morning. Sauron truly couldn’t care less. For all the battles and all the dirt he had braved in his long life, he didn’t think he had ever longed for a hot shower more than he did now… 

“Sauron…”
When he came out of the bathroom, barely keeping his eyes in focus from exhaustion, a pleasant surprise was waiting for him on his bed. Sinistra. The astronomy professor had come to see him... For a moment he thought he was already dreaming, but then she jumped up and embraced him before he could even say something. He didn’t trust his eyes, but the magic of her touch couldn’t lie, she was truly there. He slumped against her, surrendering to her caress instinctively. She led him to the bed and he didn’t even try to resist. He was so tired… Her hands raked through his hair, and vaguely he saw her smile, and her obsidian eyes, as through a mist. 
“My beloved… I am so proud of you.”
Her words resonated warmly, and Sauron found himself smiling despite everything. He whispered.
“I love you, Sinistra… I would… ask for your hand… but that may not be such a good idea… given the connotation…”
She held a finger to his lips, but he could hear the smile in her voice.
“Sssh… be quiet. You should not make such decisions now. You’re too tired.”
He was, he really was. Sinistra’s hands softly stroked his skin, making his thoughts fade into background noise. She started singing a calming song in that strange African language of hers, and he willingly surrendered to sleep in her arms, his consciousness slipping away in the magic of the tune…
“Sweet dreams, my beloved… I will watch over you…”

(Author's Apologies)

TRANSLATIONS: 
Lat lûk kruf-ob! = You son of a whore!
Lat hag bagthroqûg! = You shit-eating bastard! (bag = shit, throquat = to eat/devour, -ug = suffix for present participle)
Olog pushdug!  = Stinking troll!

So, we get a lot of hands. Sauron has a hand in that, duh. More than one, even. He'll have a lot of trouble on his hands now...I also wonder how many hand puns I can stuff into the Author's Apologies without sounding like a complete moron. (That number would probably be zero. Unfortunately. I always sound like a moron in the Author's Apologies.)
Feedback is always appreciated!


Chapter 21 - They Got The Victory Handed To Them

Chapter 21.
In which people are ungrateful for a victory handed to them, and lack of flushable latrines is no deterrent.

The next morning, Sauron woke up lying in Sinistra’s arms. The professor was sleeping still, and he took the time to admire her. He was still surprised about his love for her, but despite all the confusion he wouldn’t want it any other way. It would almost make him thank the Valar, were he not convinced that they would never have allowed him something so beautiful had they been able to stop it. No, the Valar had nothing to do with this. The gods -or ancestors, or whatever this world had instead of those wretched Ainur- were kind to him. He didn’t know why they had put Sinistra in his path, but he was forever grateful for it. 
“I know you are looking at me…”
The professor opened her eyes and smiled at him. Sauron grinned affectionately.
“Aye, maathûn… you are a sight to behold.”
“How are you feeling?”
Surprisingly well, actually. There was no trace left of the weariness that had overcome him the day before.
“Great, my… my tiredness is completely gone.”
Sinistra stroked his face.
“You know, Ginny Weasley came to see me while you were with Dumbledore.”
“Oh?”
She smiled at the memory.
“Yes, she had just come out of sickbay and came straight to me to tell me that she considered you her best friend and that if I hurt you she would hunt me down and stake me on her spear.”
Sauron laughed heartily.
“Za kaarkarn gaz fukaush… She would have done well in my world…”
Sinistra raised an eyebrow, and he translated.
“That feisty little redhead… I’m sorry for using Black Speech, sometimes my tongue slips.” 
“Could you teach me this language of yours, like you taught Ginny?”
“Would you want me to?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to now would I?”
Sauron shrugged.
“Even after all this time I’m not used to the fact that the sound of my native tongue doesn’t make people cringe in fear here…”
“It’s all in the connotation. Speaking of which…”
He suddenly remembered what he had half-coherently mumbled before falling asleep, and a blush colored his cheeks.  The dark woman chuckled.
“You asked for my hand, didn’t you?”
“I… err… I said that I would, if not for the connotation… I had after all just chopped off a hand.”
Sinistra laughed.
“Ginny also told me something else, namely that –and now I’m quoting- guys who know their way around a sword are rare these days, so I should praise myself a lucky woman for having you.” She kissed Sauron and smiled. “And I do, praise myself lucky. So whether you ask for my hand or not, my heart you have.”
He was speechless for a moment, and when he finally found his words, they surprised even himself.
“That… that is the most precious gift anyone has ever given me. I would like to honor it by following your customs and bind myself to you. I know nothing of your rituals, but I…” He hesitated. “I…” He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Sinistra pressed her lips against his to silence him.
“Shush, you honor my love already by loving me back, Sauron. I do not require any rituals as proof.”
Suddenly aroused, he pulled her closer and stroked her soft curves, whispering,
“Then let me at least love you back properly…” 
“I have no objections…”
Dumbledore better not come interrupt them…

You would think that unmasking a dangerous criminal in the teacher’s corps, saving a student from being murdered by a dark wizard, and relieving said wizard of his right hand and a couple of his servants would get you some credit, no? Well… apparently not. Sauron glared at the headmaster, hardly believing what he heard.
“How do you mean, I’m suspended from all classes?”
The bearded wizard sighed.
“Well… You have broken virtually every school rule, and brought another student in danger.”
Sauron’s mouth fell open.
“I have practically solved your dark lord issue all for you!”
“Yes, and that’s what’s keeping you out of Azkaban. You have also committed three counts of murder.”
“Four. You’re forgetting that Wormtail servant.” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, and Sauron frowned. “So, you’re saying I’m being evicted?”
I’d like to see you try, he thought to himself. That could get amusing.
“No. I convinced the authorities that it would be for the best if you stayed here, where I can keep an eye on you.”
It was a coincidence, but it still made him want to facepalm. Expressions using the word “eye” should be banned from use in his surroundings…  Not realizing the irony in his words, Dumbledore continued.
“Nevertheless, I would advice you to consider returning to your home world. Building a life for yourself here will be exceedingly difficult after the events of yesterday.”
They were probably just afraid that he would try to usurp the dark lord position, now that he had clearly come out victorious in a meeting with Voldemort… And in truth, he had considered it… this was exactly the kind of opportunity he had waited for, ever since arriving here. He finally had a decent amount of control over his powers again, and becoming the dark ruler of this world would probably be ridiculously simple, if that Voldemort was the worst they had had to deal with so far. However… Sauron didn’t think it worth it. There was no Melkor in this world, and he held no personal grudge against these people. If he had only had himself to consider, the decision would have been quickly made; he loved power after all. But now there was Sinistra to think of too… and he loved her more than power. Not a lot more, but still enough to tip the scales. Sauron could see how Dumbledore was right, but the thought of returning to Middle-Earth…
“And how do you suggest I do this? I do not know how I got here in the first place.”
He really didn’t want to go back to Middle-Earth. There was nothing left for him there but destroyed buildings, Hobbits, and a possible return to the Void at the hands of that prescient bastard Námo. Not to mention that he didn’t want to leave Sinistra. 
“I will be doing research, and you can have access to certain works in the Restricted Section yourself too. I believe that we can possibly devise a method to send you back.”
“I see.”
That was… bad news. Sauron hoped that Dumbledore wouldn’t succeed.
“And then what am I to do in the meantime, if I’m not allowed to follow the classes anymore?”
Dumbledore looked a little uncomfortable. Good.
“This… is an uncommon situation, as you sure understand, and it apparently calls for uncommon solutions. The board of directors didn’t think it wise for you to stay in the Ravenclaw tower, so one of the professors has offered to house you for the time being. You will stay in professor Sinistra’s quarters as of tomorrow. I understand this is inconvenient, but it is the best solution we can offer at the moment. It is only temporarily, of course.”
Now there was a bit of good news. Sauron proficiently hid his smirk…Even if they expected him to just sit around and do nothing, it wouldn’t be as bad with Sinistra close by. 
“Then I suppose I’ll go pack my things. Can I leave?”
Dumbledore nodded. Sauron internally grinned at the worried, tired look the old professor had. Even his annoying twinkling eyes seemed far less shiny… If only he would have succeeded at making Olórin look like that… Feeling oddly satisfied, he left the office and walked to his room. 

“They want me to go back.”
He had decided to break the news to Sinistra right away, after bringing his trunk to her chambers. The Astronomy professor nodded.
“Yes, so I was told.” She smiled. “Dumbledore kept apologizing me and ensuring me that it would only be temporarily and that you wouldn’t do anything to me…”
Sauron smirked.
“As if. I’m going to do a lot of things to you.”
Sinistra smiled, but her eyes remained serious.
“Sauron… what are you going to do when Dumbledore finds a way to send you back?”
“When? You’re talking as if you’re sure he will find a way.”
He didn’t like where this conversation was going. Sinistra sat down on the bed and sighed.
“It’s not unlikely that he will, and you know that.”
“I won’t go. It’s not as if they can force me.”
He said it with more bravura than he felt, and was met with a sad look.
“And then what? Are you going to grab the power, overthrow the ministry, enslave the people?”
Sauron frowned.
“Is that how you think about me?”
“No. But they won’t give you much other options. I know you. You won’t run, certainly not from a foe weaker than yourself.”
She was right… and it hurt. Irony strikes again, he melancholically thought. For what was probably the first time in his life he had done something that could be filed as “good”, and then he got punished for it anyway. He just couldn’t do anything right, could he?
“Then… you want me to go back.”
He sounded needlessly bitter. Sinistra looked out of the window, ignoring his tone.
“It’s a choice you have to make for yourself. But… know that no matter what you do, I will follow you. I left my home country for you, before I even met you. I would follow you everywhere.”
“You would follow Me. To Mordor.”
Sauron said it flatly, not hiding his disbelief. Sinistra turned and nodded.
“You don’t believe me.”
“No one voluntarily goes to Mordor when they can avoid it.”
“Have you ever known me to lie to you?”
Sinistra had never lied to him indeed, and in her eyes Sauron could see she meant what she said. But he still didn’t believe it.
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You would leave your work, your home, your friends, your species even, to follow me to what is without a doubt the least hospitable place in Arda? There is hardly anything left standing there, the climate is harsh, the living conditions would be unfavorable, and the people won’t exactly be happy to see me again. You would be insane to want to share that fate.”
Not to mention what might happen to her if the Valar caught up on his return… He wouldn’t do that to her. She couldn’t follow him. 
Sinistra smiled.
“You’re trying so hard to convince me that I shouldn’t follow you… But Sauron, I have already left so much. All the things you named I left behind me when I came to England. My home, my friends, perhaps even my species. It may seem odd to you, but my people couldn’t be more different from the wizards here. They could just as well have been another species. And my work… as long as your world has stars I can do my work.”
She was taking apart his arguments, and he wouldn’t have it. Glaring, he said.
“It’s insane, Sinistra! You know nothing of how to survive in Arda! It’s… it’s closest to what in your history is called the Medieval Ages. You have none of the skills needed to survive in such a world!”
Sinistra frowned as well now.
“Then teach me! You’re making it sound as if you don’t want me with you!”
“It’s not that I don’t want you with me, Sinistra… I… I don’t want you THERE with me! It’s… I…” Frustrated he exclaimed, “Don’t you see that it’s for your own safety? I don’t want you harmed! You’re safer here, and I would be happier knowing you are safe here.”
“Would you? Be happier without me, I mean.”
Sauron hesitated. He knew the answer was no, not at all… but he couldn’t tell her. Frustrated he growled.
“Can’t you see I’m trying not to be selfish for once?”
“Stop it, it doesn’t suit you. Be selfish for me.”
She stood right in front of him now, her dark eyes both hard and pleading. Feeling his resolve dwindle, Sauron weakly protested.
“There aren’t even flushable latrines in Mordor.”
“I am happy to pee behind a bush for the rest of my days if it allows me to spend those with you, Sauron.”
There was a smile in her voice again, and he couldn’t help but softly chuckle.
“Then I suppose you’re stuck with me.”
The tension he hadn’t realized he was feeling suddenly eased when he admitted that. Sinistra smiled and pulled him closer for a kiss. 
“Good.”

Ginny was waiting for him outside the Astronomy Tower. 
“Klaarh-izg kul ukhug krum.”
So she had heard about him going back already. 
“Agh îst za mol?”
“Flitwick said you would be leaving. I came here because I thought you would go here before leaving, and I wanted to see you.”
Sauron raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not gone yet. So far there is no way known to send me back. Now, did you need me for anything, that you were so anxious to see me?”
Ginny blushed and looked at her shoes.
“I… I just wanted to say goodbye, in case you would be leaving soon… and sorry for cursing at you yesterday.”
“What did I tell you about apologizing?”
“Err… not to do it?”
“Exactly. Besides, of all the things I have been called, “shit-eating bastard-son of a prostitute” is probably one of the more original ones.”
“You’re… you’re not angry?”
Sauron shrugged.
“I have other things to worry about. Getting angry with you would be a waste of energy.”
Not that getting angry cost him any energy. It was one of the things that came naturally to him. “Besides, are you even allowed to talk to me?”
“Probably not, but I don’t care.”
Sarcastically he remarked,
“You’re not scared I will kill or maim you?”
“Why would I? It’s not as if you have something to gain from it.”
That was a valid point. He pensively nodded, and Ginny asked,
“So, what are you going to do now?”
“I have no idea. I’ll see.”
“Are you coming back to us this summer?”
He shook his head.
“No… Most likely not. I’m supposed to stay in the castle until they have found a way to send me back.”
Ginny rolled her eyes.
“As if they could stop you.” She then looked pleading. “If Dumbledore finds a way to send you back before the summer is over… you will come say goodbye before you leave, won’t you?”
The Hat had called her his “little sister”, and of course that was complete nonsense. But nevertheless Sauron knew that no other person would have gotten the answer he gave her.
“I definitely won’t leave before taking revenge on your twin brothers.”
Her smile broadened, and suddenly she had her arms around him. Stiff and uncomfortable, Sauron allowed her to hug him. 
“I’m so going to miss you…”
“Yeah, yeah, are you done yet?”
Ginny let go with an embarrassed blush on her cheeks.
“Sor…” The rest of the apology she swallowed.
“You must have something better to do than standing here and annoying me.”
“Not really.”
“Humor me.”
“Fine. As long as you do promise to visit before you leave.”
“Ghadl-izg. Bhoghad?”
Ginny nodded, and left. Sauron watched her leave. He had promised to come see her. Her, the annoying, messy, redheaded she-wizard that he had shared a room with, given love advice to, refurbished a dress for and braved monsters with in that wretched labyrinth. Maybe, just maybe the Hat was right. Ginny Weasley was not his sister, and her lifespan was but the blink of an eye compared to his, but still… had he had a sister, he would have wanted her to be like Ginny. It would be odd, going away just now he was used to things here. He would miss the hot showers…  Maybe he should try to figure out how those worked, so he could implement them back in Mordor… Thinking that, Sauron suddenly knew what he was going to do with his time now he was free from classes. It was time for the Industrial Revolution to come to Mordor…

(Author's Apologies)

TRANSLATIONS:
Klaarh-izg kul ukhug krum. = I hear you're going back.
Agh îst za mol? = And you know this how?
Ghadl-izg. Bhoghad? = I promise. Okay? 

I'm sorry. I'm just very sorry. Don't have much else to say. This chapter is so much filler. *sigh*


Chapter 22 - Sauron Ties A Dangerous Knot

Chapter 22.
In which Sauron breaks someone’s tibia, ties the knot, and gets a new name.

“Are you nervous?”
Sauron sent his love a slightly orange glare. As time had passed, they had become less mysterious with each other, and expressing annoyance or frustration no longer felt wrong or out of place. He growled.
“What do you think? You just told me you have seven older brothers!”
“Half-brothers. They are from my mother’s first marriage.”
He was a millennia old Maia, and he was not nervous, not nervous at all, to meet Sinistra’s family. As long as he kept telling himself that, he would be okay. He hoped. He glared daggers at the locket on the table, an International Portkey that would take them straight to Sinistra’s birth village.
“Why didn’t you tell me of your family? I thought you were an only child.”
“My brothers all have families of their own by now, and I haven’t seen any of them in many years. It simply did not occur to me… I’m sorry. Besides, I do am my father’s only child.” She smiled. “Aren’t you used to big families? You lived with the Weasleys after all…”
Sauron sighed. If Sinistra’s family was anything like the Weasleys, he wasn’t sure if he would survive in one piece. One large, messy family to quasi-adopt him was more than enough… Sinistra massaged his shoulders.
“Relax, my beloved… They will see how I love you, and that will be enough for them.”
Sauron took a deep breath. He was nervous as he had been after the debacle of Tol Sirion, and back then there had been Melkor, armed with a fiery whip, to teach him a lesson about losing strongholds to the enemy… His nervousness now was absolutely ridiculous in comparison. 
“Very well. Let’s get it over with then.”
He took Sinistra’s hand, and together they took up the locket. He felt a tug at his navel, and the next moment they were somewhere else… Sauron looked around in surprise. Huts made of clay were standing next to or were attached to dusty brick buildings, often adorned with colorful murals. People in colorful clothes were bustling about, calling out at each other in a strange language, and right before his nose a woman passed who was herding a bunch of goats. There were people carrying baskets full of things he couldn’t identify, children were playing, men were talking in hushed tones while sitting under a tree on the central square, and the warm air was filled with scents he couldn’t place. It was not as small as he had imagined the village would be, and far from as quiet… Sinistra laughed happily.
“Welcome to Kokeb Meda, Sauron…”
He was as stunned as he had been that first time in London, now already more than a year ago… Sinistra pulled him with her while he looked around in wonder. Many of the people were carrying Istari-like staffs, decorated with feathers, beads, teeth, stones, metal and ribbons. He also noticed quite a few people were using magic, but often without pointing their staff of speaking a spell. Sinistra had told him that the magic of her people was very different from what was taught at Hogwarts, but still… he had not expected this. Eventually, they reached the property of Sinistra’s family. In the front yard a woman was stirring a cauldron while chanting something. She was dressed in deep green, colorful robes, and held a staff decorated with bones and pieces of scrap metal. When Sinistra pushed open the gate she looked up, and a broad smile appeared on her face.
“Alitash!”
She abandoned her cauldron and came to them, embracing Sinistra tightly. From closer by, Sauron could see that Sinistra looked very much like –who he presumed was- her mother. The woman and Sinistra conversed in their own language, and he felt strangely left out until Sinistra’s mother turned to him. She had the same obsidian eyes as her daughter, but they were more piercing, harsher and older.  Sauron was under her scrutiny for a while, until she spoke in heavily accented English.
“Me is Fana, mother of Aurora. My Alitash has found in you her foreign spirit. Me is glad in my heart. Be welcome in our family, Teferi.”
Then she said something else to her daughter in her own language, and went back to her cauldron. Sinistra smiled at Sauron’s apparent confusion.
“My mother can seem a little strange for those who do not know her… But she has accepted you.”
“How do you know?”
“She named you. My mother has insight, and the names she gives people reflect how she sees them. Using them is a sign of friendship, kinship even. Had she not liked you, she would have addressed you as Sauron.”
It was all a bit much for Sauron. He looked at the woman who had named herself Fana, and felt a certain apprehension as her strange chant reached his ears. 
“Teferi… what does it mean?”
“Admirable one, he who inspires fear and awe.”
Sauron couldn’t help but swallow visibly…

That night, Sauron couldn’t sleep. The strange environment, the heat, all the new things… He honestly felt lost. Perhaps even more lost than when he first fallen into this world. Sinistra held him in her arms, but although her touch was comforting he didn’t succumb to sleep. After a bit of tossing and turning, he said.
“Sinistra…I have seen many people with staffs. Are those your people’s wands?”
“In a way. We use our magic in a different way than the people in the west; they need their wands to do magic, whereas we do not. When our magic starts manifesting itself, we start making our staff. We do it ourselves, and no one tells us how to do it. Dreams, intuition and instinct lead us to the materials we need to make it, and while making it we are actually practicing our magic, coming in deeper contact with it. When the staff is finished, we have much better control over our powers, simply from exercising the skills needed to create the staff. It helps with complex spells, grounds us and stabilizes us, but we don’t truly need it to do magic.”
Sauron thought about that.
“It’s so strange how much differences there are in your world.”
“Are they not in yours too, then?”
Fair point, the people of Harad could hardly be compared to the people of Rohan. He had never really paid attention to the customs of different races in Middle-Earth, simply because he only met with them on the battlefield. It was odd to realize that there surely was a lot he didn’t know about his own world and its people… 
“Your mother called you Alitash. What does it mean?”
“May I always find you, my precious, may I never lose you.”
That was… ironic. But he had stopped keeping track of the many ironic things in his life long ago already. The names did surprise him. He had been shocked, but also oddly pleased when Fana had given him a name so close to what he had been called at creation… it was almost as if he finally reclaimed the name he had lost in Númenor. Turning from his musings back to Sinistra, he stated.
“She also called you Aurora.”
Sinistra chuckled. 
“Aurora is my birth name, the name my father gave me. It means “dawn”. Alitash is the name my mother gave me. Sinistra is technically my last name. Normally it is not used to address someone, but while I lived in England I have begun using it as my first name.” She hesitated a moment. “It’s not complicated. You still have a lot more names than I do.”
Sauron sighed.
“Yes. I do. Not all of them are very flattering.”
“Remember what I told you about context?”
“How could I forget that? Wasn’t it that conversation that ultimately brought us to this point?”
Sinistra kissed his neck.
“Ah, Sauron… You worry so much. Tomorrow you will meet my father and brothers. They don’t all live in this village, but mother told me she was going to organize a feast for my return, and they will all attend.”
“A feast?”
“Oh yes. I have not been here for ten years. They will all want to meet us.” And then she told him not to worry. Tsss. “Try to sleep now, my beloved. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

As Sinistra had predicted, Fana had already begun with the organization of a large feast in the village, mobilizing people, animals and food in large quantities. She didn’t need to yell at or command anyone; the woman appeared to be gifted with a natural authority. Saron didn’t understand a word of what she was saying, but in its own way it looked rather impressive. He could see where Sinistra had gotten her strong character from. They also met with Sinistra’s father Richard, or Makari as Fana had named him. He was an elderly white man with brown, greying hair, kind blue eyes, and a large scar that ran from one side of his face to the other, diagonally over his left eye.
“Aurora, I need to speak with him in private. Would you leave us for a moment? Your mother can certainly use help with the preparation of the food.”
Sinistra hesitated, looking at Sauron. He nodded, trying to act more self-assured than he felt… She left, and he looked nervously at her father. The man gave him a pointed, but not unfriendly look.
“Sauron Gorthaur… My Fana named you Teferi. A good name… Has Aurora told you what it means?”
“She did.”
He nodded.
“I will not ask after your past, for you are a foreign spirit. All I want to know is your future. What do you want with my daughter?”
Sauron felt constricted. Telling Sinistra he loved her came naturally to him, but saying that to her father? Eventually he pushed himself and uttered.
“I… I love her. I would do anything to make her happy.”
“You hesitate, but I see you are truthful. Will you bond with her?”
Sauron nodded.
“Yes. I don’t know your customs, but I would like to bond with her. That was what I came here for, to ask your… permission.”
Richard didn’t respond to that, instead he asked another question.
“And can you give her children?”
Could he? Melian had carried a child from an elf, but Sinistra was a wizard. Were they compatible with Maiar too? Sauron didn’t know. On the other hand, what nature didn’t provide he was certain could be done with magic, in the purely hypothetical situation he would ever want to reproduce. Which he didn’t. He nodded again. 
“I think I can. We are not of the same… physiology though, so it might not be possible the natural way.”
Richard chuckled.
“You truly are a very foreign spirit, are you not?”
“I… Yes, I am.”
“Do not worry about your offspring. The ancestors would not have sent Aurora on your path if she would remain barren; after all, a marriage without children is as a vase without flowers. When you want them, you will have them.”
“That is… reassuring.”
Sauron could not really imagine having children. He was not a father figure at all, and small children still annoyed him to no end. He hoped Sinistra didn’t want offspring… he definitely had to talk with her about that. Richard Sinistra smiled however, oblivious of the Maia’s thoughts.
“It is Fana’s plan to have you wed Aurora at this feast she is organizing. The whole village is helping with the preparations; my wife is the village healer and they all love her very much. I just thought to warn you.”
Sauron was a little baffled.
“But… I haven’t even formally asked for a betrothal yet!”
Richard chuckled.
“Our ways are different. Besides, am I wrong or have your souls bonded already through the means of the flesh?”
He and Sinistra had refrained from having sex in her parents’ house, but apparently their intimacy was quite obvious. No wonder that Richard and Fana wanted them to get properly wedded soon…
“Do not be embarrassed, Sauron. Aurora would not have given herself to you had she not foreseen this. Nothing is held against you.”
That was a relief, strangely enough. It would have been nice though had she told them that they were to get married on this trip… Not that he was surprised; no one ever told him something. Grateful to the gods of this world as he was, they did have a strange sense of humor. They continued to talk, and Sauron found that Richard Sinistra was pleasant company. When he told the wizard about his interest in muggle buildings, materials and science, Mr Sinistra surprised him by revealing that he too had studied Muggle sciences after completing his magical education. Soon the conversation was about building techniques and metal work… From the door opening to the kitchen, Sinistra and her mother watched the men.
“Two foreign spirits meet…”
“Father will not harm him, will he?”
Fana chuckled.
“Your father? Alitash, you know him better than that. It’s your brothers he’ll have to watch out for. Especially Demissie and Iskinder, you know how protective they are.”
Sinistra frowned at her mother, who was grinning smugly.
“That’s not funny.”
“Aye, it is Alitash, it is…”
When Fana foresaw things, she was awfully smug about it. Sinistra knew this, but it still made her roll her eyes.
“Whatever you say, mother…”
No matter how old she got, her mother would always be able to make her feel like a child…

Later on, Sauron would recall his stay in Africa and his bonding feast with Sinistra as a flurry of colors, sounds, scents, and impressions, blending in his mind to a rather synesthetic experience. Certain things however he remembered crystal clear…
For one by example, the seven tall black men who glared daggers at him from the moment they spotted him. They reminded Sauron unmistakably of a certain bunch of Noldorin princes, despite the lack of physical likeness. If only from the way they all challenged him to a fight you’d think their half-sister was a silmaril he was trying to steal… Their indignation at his courting of their little sister resulted in him spending a good portion of his stay in Sinistra’s village rolling over the ground fighting with various members of her family. Broken noses, sprained wrists and ankles, bruises, scratches and even a broken tibia were all part of the game… A game that, according to Richard, was completely normal; it was their duty as brothers to make sure their sister wedded a decent husband after all. Sauron didn’t tell him what he thought of said custom, but it was nothing flattering. His current “physical manifestation” was rather slightly built, and even though he had his Maiarin strength, not all the fights were easy. Stubbornness, pride and determination counted for something too apparently, when it came to wrestling each other to the ground; they just wouldn’t give up! He won every fight though, sustaining only minor damage, and as Fana treated her son’s injuries the men grudgingly accepted that he was to be their brother-in-law. Although Demissie –the one with the broken tibia- did nickname him Ganel, meaning “The Demon”. Sauron accepted the title with a grin…

The feast itself was again a different type of celebration than the ones he had witnessed before. There was food being shared from large common bowls, strangely enticing music being played on drums and snared instruments, and people were chatting, dancing and drinking strong liquor. All that faded into the background though when Fana and her daughters-in-law led Sinistra outside. She wore magnificent robes in vibrant hues of orange, red and gold, and her hair was hidden underneath a special head wrap. From her ears dangled large beaded earrings in the colors of the dress, and anklets tinkled on her feet when she walked. She looked like fire; molten lava in the shape of a woman, Sauron thought the moment he laid eyes on her. And for once, instead of scolding him for being ridiculous, his mental dark lord voice couldn’t help but agree. 
If Sinistra’s song that first night in the Astronomy Tower had surprised and ensnared him, it was nothing compared to the song that the villagers sang for their bonding ceremony. The ceremony began with Fana binding their hands together with a thick red rope, while everyone was silently observing…  
“No matter you do, do no untie the knots until you is alone and your door is closed.”
Sauron didn’t have the chance to ask what she meant, because the moment she made the last complicated-looking knot and hit the floor with her staff, it began. She sang, and the other people answered in song, lines they all appeared to know and which sent shivers down his spine. There was a hierarchy in the song, a message, an obligation… The sudden power in the music hit him like a wave, it was so strong that it somewhat destabilized him, and he was grateful that the knots gave him a good excuse to tightly hold Sinistra’s hand. From the way she clenched his, she was at least as affected… The song echoed through his fëa like a command, a compulsion… He didn’t remember exactly when they had begun dancing, but at a certain point they had, and many people with them. The music was leading their steps, and Sauron found he didn’t need to think about them at all, that he wasn’t even capable of thinking about them, instinctual as they were. The feast lasted until the dawn of the next day… 

When they finally retreated to their home and the privacy of their room, Sauron learned why untying the knots in public would have been a very bad idea. The moment the red rope freed their hands an almost animal desire took hold of him. Sinistra was no better; she actually tore his robes in eagerness, her obsidian orbs hazy with need. It was different from the longing of his fëa he usually felt, it was completely physical… and he had no hope of resisting it. His mind clouded with lust, and they ravished each other like wild animals, clawing and biting and even drawing blood in their passion. Every release just seemed to make the longing worse, making them slaves to their bodies that screamed “More! Again!” with every completion… When the spell of the rope finally subsided, exhaustion overcame them before even a word could be spoken, and pulled them both into an unnaturally deep slumber. And so it happened that Sauron spent the first day of his married life practically comatose. A promising start it certainly was…

(Author's Apologies)

This is going to be a long one. 

I placed Sinistra's village in (drumroll) Ethiopia. This can be deducted from the details I give, and it's for more than one reason. Aurora (Sinistra's first name, as we learned here) in Greek Mythology is the goddess of dawn, but also the mother of Memnos, first king of Ethiopia. A funny fact about this is, Aurora married a mortal man, and she begged Zeus to grant him immortality. Zeus did, but didn't give the man eternal youth. You can imagine the consequences. (Why exactly this is funny you'll learn in another chapter)
Another reason for picking Ethiopia is the language, Amharic. It contains a couple words that seem to come straight from Quenya, funnily enough. Fana (means "light", but also the Quenya word for the body that the Ainur use when they incarnate) and Aman (means "peace", but is also the Quenya term for the Undying Lands) are only a couple examples. There are more, but they escape me.  

Sinistra's mother-name, Alitash, means (as is said) “May I always find you, my precious, may I never lose you.”
Sauron's newly given name, Teferi, is the Amharic translation of Mairon, literally "Admirable one, he who inspires fear and awe". 

Then onto Sinistra's family!
- Fana (light), her mother
- Richard Sinistra / Makari (wise man), her father
Her seven half-brothers (only two are named here, but I actually have names for all of them, so here they are, from oldest to youngest)
- Tessema (He has been heard)
- Demissie (The Destroyer)
- Iskinder (Defender of the people)
- Daniachew (You be their judge, arbitrate between them)
- Tamirat (Miracle)
- Tesfaye (My Hope)
- Sisay (Omen of good things)
Yes, I actually put effort in finding fitting Amharic names for characters that I didn't really use. I'm a moron.

The village name, "Kokeb Meda" means "Star Plains" in Amharic

The wedding ritual is slightly inspired by a handfastening, but with more magical mumbo-jumbo around it. The red cord actually does symbolize passion in a handfastening.

The conclusion we draw from this: I do too much research. Much too much.


Chapter 23 - Through The Looking Glass

Chapter 21.
In which there is black (speech) mail, and a looking glass is employed as emergency exit.

Ginny didn’t see Sauron again. He did keep his promise though. One day that summer she came into her room and found on her bed the spear with which she had made her way through the labyrinth, and a familiar looking sketchpad, accompanied by a letter in elegant Tengwar. It took quite a bit of translating, but the Maia had been so thoughtful to add the English translation of words she didn’t know in the margin. It made her smirk… “Thoughtful” and “Sauron” still made for an odd combination in her mind. 

Ginny,

A warrior’s word is his bond, so I’ve kept my promise. I returned your weapon too, just in case you would ever come across a couple bloodthirsty dwarves again. Staking your brothers on it can be a possible use as well. I also left you my drawings, since you liked them for some reason and I have no further use for them anyway. 
They found a way to send me back to Middle-Earth, using an artifact called the Mirror of Erised. It usually shows you what you want most, but apparently it can also take you to where you want to be most, with the right rituals. I don’t feel like explaining it. Either way, if everything goes right I will not be here anymore tomorrow. You will also be getting another astronomy teacher. 
I spent only one year in your world, but I learned a lot. Even from you, young, annoying and inexperienced as you might be. I hope you will remember the things I in turn tried to teach you, and then I don’t just mean the evil-sounding expletives. 
We won’t meet again, but you will forever live in my memory.

Sincerely,
Sauron Gorthaur

Fred and George also received a goodbye present from Sauron, in the shape of two buckets of fluorescent, slimy green goo. No matter how many times they magicked it away or tried to wash it off, it kept coming back… until Molly had enough of the twins tracking slime through the house, and went to St. Mungo’s with them to have it removed. All in all it was a rather harmless prank, Ginny thought. Knowing Sauron, he could have done a lot worse. Burning them alive or setting a giant carnivorous spider on them or something like that. The three weeks of itchy purple full-body rash they got from the counter-curse was only a minor inconvenience compared to what could have happened…
Much, much later, when she and Harry had long gotten together, and a shiny engagement ring adorned her finger, she discovered that he too had received a note from Sauron. Written in that recognizable elegant scrawl it stated,

To the Slayer of the Basilisk,

Ginny has six brothers to beat you up if you hurt her, so I shouldn’t mingle in this. Despite that, I must inform you that if you cherish having all your extremities, you better treat her well. She is in love with you, and if I find out –and I will, trust me- that you broke her heart, I won’t stop at just one hand to teach you a lesson. 

Sincerely,
Sauron Gorthaur

Harry had admitted that the note had scared him so much that he had expressed his interest in her right the next day. Looking back on their relationship, Ginny decided that note was probably the best goodbye gift Sauron could ever have given her...

Meanwhile in Mordor...

The journey to Mordor was long and arduous, the daylong riding trips were hard on Sinistra, and they had to make-do with little provisions… but not once the wizard complained. She seemed both fascinated and baffled by her surroundings, a feeling Sauron knew well enough from his own experiences in her world. They didn’t speak much while riding, not knowing how to bring things under words exactly. It was an overwhelming experience for both of them, albeit for different reasons... For Sauron every inch of land held memories, often bad ones, while for Sinistra it was the complete unknown of her surroundings that made things difficult. He often wondered if she regretted her choice to follow him. He hadn’t lied when he said that life would be hard on her in his world… One night, as he saw her watch the stars with a melancholic look in her tired eyes, he sighed,
“It becomes less hard over time. I hope you… I hope you don’t regret your decision, and that one day you may call this world your home as well.”
With a smile she said,
“This world is already more my home than England ever was.”
And no matter how skeptical Sauron was concerning that, it turned out to be true. They reached the abandoned city of Minas Morgul -not completely poisoned and cursed anymore but still uninhabited- and made it their home, and Sinistra seemed to feel perfectly at ease there. 
As time passed, plans and contacts were made, old alliances were called in, and the rebuilding of Mordor’s structures began, a little accident caused them to start building on something else as well, namely a family. The ground trembled and it stormed for days over Minas Morgul when Sinistra realized her condition and told Sauron… but eventually there was nothing to do about it, and a year later they welcomed Umátimon into the world, a healthy baby boy. It must be that having children wasn’t quite as bad as Sauron had expected, because approximately five years later they “accidentally” extended their family with another child, Mairë. Life in Mordor certainly wasn’t easy, with difficult diplomatic issues, language barriers, unruly orcs, the desert climate wreaking havoc on the harvest, the water purification engine getting clogged with ash every three days, and servants who just couldn’t understand that no, the flushable latrine wasn’t magical and no, you couldn’t use it to discard anything other than excrements. In general though, it was a good life, and Sinistra never came to regret her choice. She even discovered she was a rather good diplomat, although that was mostly thanks to the apparent fear people had of beings capable of magic. 
In the meantime, Sauron decided that if he couldn’t take Middle-Earth by force, he would take it by means of Industrial Revolution… Sinistra watched with slight amusement how he implemented all sorts of technological improvements in Minas Morgul, built and rebuilt “modern” structures, made plans to have a train track running from Cirith Ungol to Barad-dûr, and generally filled his days with doing what he loved; planning, strategizing, commanding underlings, and working in his forge. Although he still made countless elaborate plans for attacking Gondor and achieving world domination, he somehow just never got to executing them. There was always something more urgent to be done, somehow… Maybe in a couple hundred years, when the children weren’t so small anymore, he’d get back to it… 

(Author's Apologies)

So... yes, that's a lot happening in a little text. It's a bit fluffy... (but trust me you'll need it to make it through the next chapter...)
Basically Sauron and Sinistra went through the Mirror of Erised to Middle Earth. They didn't exactly ended up in Mordor though -interdimensional mirror travel isn't known for being very location accurate- so there was a long trip first. I suspect they didn't exactly end up in Gondor, more likely in Khand or Rhûn. 
As for Mordor being homely to Sinistra: she comes from a desert climate. If anything the hot days and icy nights will remind her of her first home. Minas Morgul isn't really dangerous anymore, but it is basically a place full of bad memories and bad climate for just about everyone so that's why it's still empty.
And then Sauron who reproduces... Yeah, accidents happen. Especially when red magical ropes are involved and people use them for playing rather than marriage rituals. Umátimon means "Unconquerable" in Quenya. Mairë is the female form of Mairon and means "Admirable".

Little funny titbit:
Sauron fell through The Burrow (the Weasley house), and "burrow" is a synonym for a rabbit hole. Which basically made him fall through the rabbit hole into another world. And he leaves said world through the looking glass. Alice in Wonderland, anyone?


Chapter 24 - Rain in Mordor, and other tragedies

Chapter 22.
In which there is rain in Mordor, and other tragedies. 

Many years had passed, and when he looked back on them he could hardly believe the life he had led. Two hundred years, a small period compared to the time he had lived already… but every moment had been meaningful, and when he was honest Sauron knew that he hadn’t felt more alive in ages. He had even gotten that exact thing the Mirror of Erised had shown him he wanted most… Standing on the balcony of the rebuilt Barad-dûr he had kissed his wife and shown her the magnificent view over Mordor, only afterwards realizing the resemblance with his mirror-vision. He had indeed exactly what he wanted, and more even. Children had never been included in the original equation, but Sauron was happy with them either way. It had turned out that children were far from as infuriating and annoying when they were your own… or maybe his heritage just made for non-annoying children. It was probably that. 
Mairë, his youngest, was very much like him. She had an unusual outlook on life, both dark and innocent, that hadn’t made for an easy childhood… But as she had gotten older she had grown into her talents, becoming a feared and highly skilled warrior. Her brother Umátimon was a different story. Sauron had worried about him, because he was a dreamer and always seemed much tamer than his little sister… But Sinistra had told him to be patient, and indeed time had shown that what he had perceived as tameness was a balanced and patient character, and that behind his calm, dreamy ways Umátimon hid great power. He was a gifted speaker, and already working in the diplomatic corps. Sauron didn’t know if his children were aware of how proud they made him. He didn’t make a habit of public displays of affection after all. But they did make him proud, more than anything. 
He was standing on the balcony, on his own this time, thinking. He indeed had more than he had ever imagined he would… but there was one thing that still served to remind him of the fragility of it all. His wife. Sinistra had remained young and beautiful thanks to his magic. He had never told her all the details of his rituals, for fear of her refusing their aid; she would have been angry to know of bloodshed for something she considered pure vanity. Some things were worth whatever it took though, and protecting his wife from being marred by Time was high on that list. Yet protecting her from Time’s decay wasn’t enough, and he knew it. It hadn’t been an issue a couple decades ago, but it was now. Sinistra’s time was running out, he had stretched her life as far as he could without venturing into the territory that had been his downfall last time. He had promised her and himself not to go there again, but the idea became more tempting with every passing day. It wasn’t that Sinistra was ill or weakening… it was in her eyes, a tiredness that no amount of sleep could cure. The Doom of Men was slowly creeping up on her. 
Sauron knew ways to lengthen her life indefinitely… but those ways would require great sacrifice and broken promises from him. And he was prepared to make such sacrifices; he would do anything to keep her with him… if only she would accept it. Yet she wouldn’t, she blatantly refused and left him to watch her grow wearier of life every day. If he had thought he could die he would have said it was killing him. 
Implementing his go-to strategy in case of trouble –ignoring the trouble- Sauron had moved into Barad-dûr, leaving his family in Minas Morgul. Everything not to be confronted with Sinistra’s impending death... But being in the dark tower with only servants and soldiers for company brought him no peace of mind. He wasn’t used to being without her anymore, and the knowledge that sooner or later he would be without her forever gave his “alone time” a bitter aftertaste.
“Are you done moping yet?”
He hadn’t heard or seen her arrive. He supposed she had used her broom and landed on the roof, apparating inside. He didn’t turn when he stated, with a dangerous edge to his tone,
“I’m not moping.”
“Yes, you are. You forget how well I know you, Sauron.”
He stubbornly stared in the distance, not facing his wife.
“If you want me to stop “moping”, you know what to do.”
“Don’t be like that. Emotional blackmail doesn’t work on me; I’d think you know that by now. You can mope all you want, but I will not change my decision. You’re only making things harder.”
This time he turned, sending her a fiery glare. The frustrated indignation was clear in his voice when he exclaimed,
“How can you so easily decide to leave me? Do I, and our children, not mean enough for you to want to hang on?”
Sinistra was undeterred. She slowly approached her husband and embraced him. Sauron didn’t back away, but he growled.
“Who’s doing emotional blackmail now, huh?”
“I’m not blackmailing you into anything.”
She let go of him and sat down on the stone floor, uncaring about her elaborate robes. She sat in silence for a while, staring at the inky black sky. 
“Do you remember that we used to sit on the platform of the Hogwarts astronomy tower?”
“Why do you think I would have forgotten that?”
Sinistra shook her head.
“I just… realized that it’s been a long time since we last did that. Just sit and look at the sky.” She looked pleadingly. “Please, Teferi. Sit with me.” 
She used the name her mother had given him, and it struck a chord. He had used the name as an alias in the early years of their return, but it had never lost its strange magic… He sighed and sat down. 
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me.” Sinistra’s hand ran through his hair in a comforting manner. He closed his eyes and savored her touch. “When you leave…”
“You can use the word “dying”, you know. I am well aware that I won’t be coming back.”
She had taken over a bit of the harshness in speaking that came naturally to the people of Mordor. Usually it amused him, now it only made him moan.
“If you are so aware of that, how… why…” 
“When you first told me of your ring… the Treacherous Ring… I told you a story as well.”
“The Tale of the Three Brothers. I remember.”
That conversation was burned in his memory… Sinistra leaned against him, and automatically he wrapped an arm around her. She softly said,
“This, we… it’s like the second brother and his lover.”
Sauron remembered the story in its entirety now, in peculiar the second brother who had recalled his lover from the dead. He even remembered thinking of his Ringwraiths at the description Sinistra had given of the revived lover. A shade of life, she had called it. Bitter irony…  
“It wouldn’t be like the Rings of Power. I could change the properties, you wouldn’t turn into a wraith, I assure you that there…”
Sinistra shushed him by holding a finger to his lips.
“You misunderstand. No man has more time than given him, and trying to claim more of it always ends in sorrow.” She smiled sadly. “That was the curse of the resurrection stone, and that would be the curse of any object of power you would make to keep me alive. I am mortal, that is my nature. Rather than seek something else, I want to be like the third brother, who laid off his cloak when he grew weary, and left the circles of the world at peace with himself.”
Sauron knew, with his fëa, that she was right. With his mind however he just couldn’t accept it yet.
“But I don’t want to let you go.”
“I know.”
Once upon a time he would have simply forced her. Tricked her, claimed her, preserved her like a trophy in a display case for all the ages to come… Now however, he knew there was no way he could bring himself to do that. Even when he had believed she would never return his feelings, he had refused to deceive her. He had wanted her whole or not at all; any deception would have been a mockery of his love for her. And thinking about that, Sauron realized that this situation was not so different. Forcing her to live, until she would grow so weary that her life would be a mere continued existence, without true value… that would truly be a mockery, not just of his love for her but of all the time they had shared. That knowledge didn’t make it less painful, though. 
“I once promised myself that Námo would never lay hands on you.”
“In time I will follow him, but he better keep his hands to himself. Even in death I will always be yours and yours only.”
Despite everything, Sauron chuckled darkly. Then he sighed.
“Maathûn-izub… I don’t know how to live without you.”
“You know that’s not true. You lived thousands of years without me.”
And in all those thousands of years, he had never felt as he did with her. Sauron couldn’t exactly bring it under words, but to be without her forever was just… he couldn’t and wouldn’t imagine it. It was too painful. Sinistra looked in the distance and smiled.
“Maybe you’ll finally find the time to conquer Gondor when I’m gone.”
He doubted it; there would be too many obstacles for that, not in the least his own lack of enthusiasm for the conquering business lately. Her voice was playful, but he couldn’t smile about the comment. When she was gone… He didn’t want to think about that. 
“Maybe. There’s nothing in Gondor that I want, though.”
All he wanted was right there next to him. He didn’t say it out loud, but the thought hung unspoken between them. As an answer, Sinistra crawled a little closer in his embrace. 
They sat in silence on the balcony for a long time, both lost in thought, hands entangled. 
“There still is time, Teferi. I’m not gone yet.”

She died about a year later. One evening she simply went to bed, declaring that she was horribly tired, and never got up again. Her death affected every member of the family differently. Mairë was furious, screaming in rage that could be heard all the way to Cirith Ungol. Umátimon climbed in the only tree in Minas Morgul and refused to come out. And Sauron… he didn’t cry. He didn’t even show the slightest bit of emotion. 
They buried her at the foot of Barad-dûr, and it seemed as if the whole of Mordor had gathered there in a grim procession the day of the funeral. The army stood in formation, wearing full battle garb. The diplomats, the engineers and workers, even the servants of Minas Morgul were there when the body of Sinistra was carried to the prepared grave. There were thousands of people, but the silence was as complete as it was suffocating… Sauron watched how she was lowered into the tomb, feeling a frightening absence of… anything, really. He had prepared her body himself, not wanting anyone else to touch her. Put her in her most beautiful dress, braided her hair elaborately, and adorned her with the ceremonial tokens of power that she had rarely ever worn during her life. And he had felt nothing. Still didn’t. Someone had seemingly cut out the part of him with which he was able to feel. He looked at the events without truly registering them.
When Sinistra’s body was in the tomb, their children came forward. It wasn’t exactly clear what had to happen now, at least not to Sauron… but when Mairë opened her mouth he knew. 
She sang. Mairë had a dissonant, harsh voice, unsettling to listen to when used for singing, but for the song she sang no other voice would have been suitable. It was a song of power, filled with burning rage and indescribable sadness, pain and desperation in every syllable. As it echoed through the crowd, Sauron felt the notes resonate with his numbed feelings… And as it resonated with him, it seemed to resonate with the ground they stood on as well. It started as a tremor, but soon they all felt how the fiery innards of Mordor trembled under the magic of Mairë’s song. And then her brother joined her. Umátimon had a light, airy voice, reminiscent of the wind chimes he was so fond of, yet still his song was as notable as his sister’s. Next to Mairë’s raw anger he sang of loss, of emptiness, of a hole that couldn’t be filled or mended, his words entangling with his sister’s in terrifying strength. The sky had turned an inky black, the earth shook, Orodruin smoked and burned fiercely, and Sauron was starting to feel as shaken as the ground below his feet. At long last, he added his own voice to the song, no longer able to contain the emotion that suddenly overwhelmed him. It was majestic in its terribleness, the song of their three voices that resounded over Ered Lithui… 
From the dark clouds, thick drops of ash-laden water started falling, leaving stains as from black tears on the clothes and faces of the funeral goers. Harsh winds carried the weather over the mountains, spreading the ash rain far into Ithilien and beyond. It was an impressive display of power… but most of all it was a display of sadness. Mordor cried for its queen, or so it seemed…

After the funeral, that had left everyone distraught and literally shaken, the rain continued to fall. Rain was rare occurrence in the desert of Mordor, especially in the quantities it now fell from the skies. Sauron watched it on his balcony, getting thoroughly soaked in ash and water. As much as he hated getting wet, he couldn’t get himself to go inside. He couldn’t get himself to do anything. The song had broken through his numbness, only to reveal an excruciating truth to him. Forever was in front of him, and forever meant never again. Never again seeing her face, never again hearing her voice, never again feeling her long dark fingers stroking through his hair. Every moment was a moment without her. Every place was a place where she was not. It was as if his whole view on the world had been rearranged in terms of Sinistra’s lacking presence, filling him with an agonizing sense of loss. It was a phantom pain, a pain in something that wasn’t there anymore. It was paralyzing, and he couldn’t really grasp it. Nothing could have prepared him for this aching nothingness that filled him…
“Sauron.”
The stern, cold voice was familiar. It was the same voice that had spoken his sentence, centuries ago now. Of course he would come here now, the bastard. Without turning, Sauron growled.
“Námo. Come to gloat, have you? Or have you decided that I need to be thrown back into the Void after all?” His bitterness was biting. “Well, be my guest. Throw me back, I don’t care.”
He really didn’t care anymore. Everything there was only reminded him of what wasn’t there, and rather than to live like that he would spend his unending years around nothing at all. The Doomsman didn’t answer him though.
“His spirit travels and the eye has opened again… The mirror will be the answer, the enemy, the gate. The daybreak of darkness will arrive, and when he embraces it he will know the truth of the Void…”
Now Sauron turned. Námo had repeated the exact words of the batty Hogwarts Doomsayer, to the letter. He stared in shock at the Vala, who looked unmoved at him. Eventually Námo sighed. 
“I don’t suppose you’ve ever asked your wife what her name meant?”
In fact, he had. They had even had a laugh about it when she had told him that, “Sinistra” meant, among other things, “dark, inclined to darkness”. Not waiting for his answer, the Doomsman continued.
“Aurora Sinistra. Daybreak of Darkness.”
And with those words, the cryptic prophecy of Trelawney became crystal clear to Sauron. The mirror of Erised, Sinistra… This punishment was crueler than anything he could have imagined the Valar thinking out. Indignation came over him.
“Melkor was right about you lot. You are no better than him.”
They were worse, at least Melkor had been honest about being a cunning sadist. He wanted to scream, yell, curse, do anything… but it just wasn’t worth it anymore. Powerless despair had overtaken him, and his voice sounded bitter yet flat, devoid of any conviction.
“I didn’t know. None of us knew.”
“Yeah right.”
“I do not lie. Although I was drawn to your lands ever since you returned, I never knew why, and I have never told the others.” 
“You were drawn to my lands?”
“I have observed you, and your family. Something told me that I had to. I could feel your doom, but it was not mine to speak… Only now, when I was called to collect your wife’s fëa, Eru deemed it fit to unveil it to me.”
How much worse would this get? Not only was it apparently Eru himself who had thought out his cruel and unusual punishment, he had also had a stalker for years in the form of one Námo Mandos, out of all the Valar his absolute least favorite. Sauron felt more miserable than ever. The rain still poured down on him, but he didn’t feel it anymore, so lost he was in his own grief. Not even attempting to hide his misery, he asked.
“What do you want with me?”
The Void? It would be a blessing. Solitary confinement? It wouldn’t really do him much. Death, if that was even possible? He’d request it rather than anything else. He had a black suspicion though that his punishment was simply this, to live with this void inside him, the half-life he had spared his wife from. 
“I don’t want anything with you.”
“Then go away.”
With that, he turned away again from the Vala. He was shaking slightly, as if he was cold, or crying, but the rain effectively masked any tears. If Sauron had looked at the great Doomsman of the Valar then, he would have seen something more rare than rain in Mordor... It could only be described as compassion. Námo Mandos was known to be stern and unbending, merciless but just… yet as he looked at the grieving Maia, he couldn’t help but feel for him. He had heard the funeral song, and it had touched him, moved him like rarely anything did. It was rather ironic, but there was nothing to do about it. Calmly he put a hand on Sauron’s shoulder. 
“You should come inside.”
Sauron had hoped the Vala would just go away, but of course he hadn’t. It was Námo after all. So he shrugged the hand off and followed him inside, hoping that whatever it was he wanted from him, it would be over soon. He barely took notice of Námo magically drying him up and removing the ashes that covered him… When suddenly his vision became hazy and he felt languid and exhausted, he didn’t even try to fight it. The forced sleep was a relief, and Sauron gladly surrendered to oblivion, limply dropping against Námo… 

(Author's Apologies)

My major plot twist! I'm so proud that I made this plot twist all the way back in Chapter 7... xD 
And then there is the possibility that you guys hate it, and I'm bragging basically about being a moron. Again. *sigh* I apologize.
Does anyone feel sorry for Sauron? I do. 
Referring to a comment in the AA's of a previous chapter: eternal youth but not immortality, the reversion of what the goddess Aurora procured for her husband... 

Maathûn-izub = my beloved, my sweetheart 

This was an exercise in empathy. Seriously. If it sucks, blame it on my psychopathic condition. Writing mourning scenes is always especially challenging for me as I am a very stoic and generally unmoved person.


Chapter 25 - Prophecies are made void... or at least altered

Chapter 23.
In which prophecies are made void… or at least altered.

He woke up feeling oddly calm and comforted, not really knowing what had happened to him. For a couple moments of blissful ignorance he didn’t remember… and then it all came back, making him curse the moment he opened his eyes. How much time had passed? Moaning, he got up from his bed. 
“Ah, you’re awake.”
Námo sat in one of his chairs, blending surprisingly well into the dark interior. Sauron just wanted to ask how long he had slept, when the Vala already answered him.
“Approximately 3 months.”
What? He couldn’t have slept that…
“I kept you asleep. You needed the rest, you were an inch from spontaneously disincarnating.”
Bitterly, Sauron remarked,
“Why do you even care?”
The Vala sighed.
“We’re not as cruel as you believe.”
Sauron shook his head, not even doing the effort to answer out loud. Námo liked to read his mind, so his thoughts would do for an answer.
“How do you feel?”
That earned the Doomsman a fiery glare. 
“How do you think I feel? Not only has my wife died and left the circles of the world, never to return again, I have also found out that all the years I had a semblance of happiness were actually part of some big divine conspiracy to make me more miserable! Guess how I feel!”
Námo was used to having fëar curse at him, so he didn’t really mind the small tirade. What he did mind however was the resigned look the Maia got in his eyes as soon as the outburst of anger faded. It seemed his compassion hadn’t run out yet… He read Sauron’s mind, gaining understanding of his grief, and then quietly said.
“You truly loved her.”
“I did. Conspiracy or not, I wouldn’t trade my time with her for the world. I just… It’s…” 
He couldn’t find his words, and the Vala softly shook his head at his frustration.
“Ssssh… Calm down. You’re still somewhat under the spell’s influence, don’t force yourself.”
Sauron frowned at him.
“Don’t put me to sleep again. I don’t need it, I’m not a weakling.”
“Needing rest and time to mourn doesn’t make you a weakling. But no, I won’t put you to sleep. I want to show you something. Come.”
The Vala led him out of the bedroom, down the winding flights of stairs, until they reached a small living room where two people were quietly conversing. His children. Realizing that they couldn’t see him, Sauron took the time to observe his offspring. 
Umátimon sat on the sofa, his long black hair falling elegantly over his shoulders as he played with a strand. He had grown into a very handsome half-Maia, it had to be said. His facial features were much like his father’s, but his eyes and expressions were softer, and the whole made for an exotic combination with his light brown skin. Sauron was well aware that his son had a whole harem of admirers… His sister was very different. Mairë’s hair was unusually short and jaggedly cut, as if she had on a certain point decided she wanted to get rid of her braid and just cut it off with the first sharp thing she could lay hands on. Knowing his daughter, that was a very likely possibility. She was very attractive, but she lacked the subtle grace of her brother. Even in her elaborate mourning robes of black silk she looked as if she could draw a sword –or whip- and engage in battle any moment. He contemplated the children. They were so different, radically different, and yet they each had something of both their parents. Sauron tried not to look for pieces that reminded him of Sinistra… instead he caught up on their conversation.
“Do you remember that we used to play in the fountain?”
“Play? You mean fight.”
“Yeah. Mom used to fish us out every time when we were doing the Fall of Gondolin.”
“I still can’t believe you managed to convince me that game was a good idea, time after time again.”
A cackling laugh resounded.
“You were really gullible when you were little.”
“You were just really good at seducing me into evil, that’s it.”
They were laughing, but Sauron could tell there was a tension under the thin layer of mirth. He didn’t really know why Námo wanted him to see this… 
“Mom was never really angry with us, was she?”
“She was pretty pissed that one time you made an explosive device.”
“One time? I made a lot of explosive devices.”
“I mean the one device that was actually made specifically for explosive purposes.”
Mairë grinned.
“Oooh, that one… Yeah, she was pissed. And she was rather miffed too when I hung you from the balcony.”
“Nah. She said you were so much like dad, and that was it.”
They were silent for a moment. 
“Do you think dad is okay?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“I’m worried about him. Last time I checked he was still sleeping, I don’t know if that’s good or bad... Do you think Maiar can fade, like elves?”
“I don’t think they can. At least… I hope not.” Umátimon sighed. “He really loved mom… He must miss her horribly. Maybe he misses her so much that he doesn’t want to wake up anymore without her.”
“Aren’t we important enough to wake up for?”
“We’re… we’re just his children. That’s very different from a husband or wife. And we’re adults now, so I suppose we’re expected to take care of ourselves.”
She frowned at that.
“I can take care of myself, but parents are for more than just obligatory caring. If dad doesn’t think us enough to wake up for then he’s actually saying he doesn’t love us enough.”
“Well, Miriel did love Finwë and Fëanor, but she still faded.”
“Yeah, and see how that turned out. Do you really consider Fëanor a good example? In my opinion she didn’t love them enough.”
“Did mom love us enough? She left as well.”
“She couldn’t help it.”
“Maybe Miriel couldn’t help it either. Maybe dad can’t help it either.”
As always, Umátimon was being a voice of reason. Sauron suddenly felt… guilty. His son was giving valid arguments, but his daughter was right. He had accused his wife of not loving them enough to hang on, but she truly couldn’t help it. He could, he had a choice. The Doomsman looked at him, sternly but not uncaring.
“You believed that your wife is completely gone… but she isn’t. She lives on in your children, in your memories, in the things she accomplished. It is a different way of living on than what we Ainur are used to… but that is the way of the Secondborn.” He waited a moment. “The Secondborn believe that they don’t truly die until they are forgotten. It is the task of those they leave behind to keep them alive in memory.”
A task that now fell to him, Sauron understood. To him and his children, and backing out of it would be dishonoring Sinistra’s remembrance. He eyed Námo with a strange new respect. He still didn’t like him, far from, but…
“Why did Eru do what he did?”
“The ways of Eru are unfathomable.”
Sauron raised an eyebrow. Really now. Námo stared back, unmoved. Engaging in a staring contest with the Doomsman was really not a good idea… Eventually though, it was Námo who gave in… sort of. Without averting his gaze, the Doomsman said.
“Maybe it wasn’t so much of a punishment as it was of a lesson.”
“A lesson in what?”
 The moment he said that, Sauron knew. A lesson in patience, understanding, bravery, loyalty, love, loss, and a lot other things he had never grasped too well before. He had truly learned a lot. But why would Eru worry about him learning those things? He was doomed to disappear from Arda after Dagor Dagorath anyway… Námo read his mind and gave him a meaningful look.
“Prophecies are only that. They are based on a particular situation, the state of affairs in a world. When that situation changes, because worlds collide at a certain point and information that wasn’t part of the original state of affairs becomes a factor, the prophecies change as well. Maybe Eru wasn’t satisfied with the state of affairs in our world, or Sinistra’s?”
It was strangely loquacious, coming from Námo, and Sauron looked surprised. The Doomsman sent him something that could pass for a smile… if you squinted.
“I will be going now.”
“Do I have to worry about you stalking around here in the future?”
“You don’t have to worry about it.”
With that the Vala disappeared, and Sauron suddenly found himself in his room again. After the initial confusion, he realized he felt… calm. The void, the aching loss was still there… but he felt calm about it. Not as if he would implode or fade from misery anymore. He still couldn’t think about Sinistra without feeling as if he was choking though, so instead he thought about Dagor Dagorath. Námo had implied that perhaps his role in the end battle had changed due to Sinistra’s presence on Arda… Sauron found himself hoping that perhaps he would leave the circles of the world after the fight, and be reunited with his wife. It was a remarkably comforting thought… Who would have thought he’d once consider the end of the world comforting, in any way? Sauron shook his head to himself. No, that was all still very far away, he shouldn’t think about that yet… His own rationality surprised him. When had he become so calm and collected? Deciding that it didn’t matter, he went to see his children. It wouldn’t do that they thought he didn’t love them enough…

Sauron adorned his wife’s tomb to make it a resting place fit for the queen she was. A life size statue of Sinistra, forged from black iron, was put on the grave, making it seem as if the late queen was lying atop her tomb, covered in metal. The grave was adorned with a deeply carved out text in an alphabet no inhabitant of Middle-Earth, aside from Sauron and his children, could read. It seemed only appropriate to honor Sinistra in the language of her home world…

A heart of love the Void must overpower,
Peers for a vanished day's last vestiges!
The drowned sun bleeds in fast congealing seas...&#8232;
And like a Host thy flaming memories flower!

Under it, a single phrase in Black Speech was written.
Trafnarub urkzû, naan lat slaiub ûkil inum-izub-ishi.
“We will not meet again, but you will forever live in my memory”

And live in his memory she did. In all their memories, even those of people who hadn’t known her. Stories about the Dark Queen of Mordor and her magic, mostly originating from people who had lived and worked with her in Minas Morgul, travelled over borders and generations until Sinistra was truly immortalized in the way of the Secondborn: in stories and tales that spun a lot of drama around a small factual core. And it hadn’t even happened on purpose. Whether she was a figment of imagination or had been an actual person was somewhat forgotten by most people, but her stories were retold either way. Sauron often wondered what his wife would think of it, would she know of it… 
“Do you think mom would like her grave? And the way we buried her?”
Sauron looked at his daughter with a raised eyebrow.
“To be honest, your mother would probably scold me for daring to bury her with that heavy iron crown… She always put comfort over looks.” He smiled sadly. “As for the grave, I’m sure she would appreciate the poem. She was rather fond of that poet, Baudelaire.”
Mairë stared at her mother’s tomb, and said softly,
“I miss her.”
Sauron believed he had gotten ash in his eyes. 
“So do I, Mairë… so do I.”

(Author's Apologies)

The final chapter. It's done at last. AT LAST! 
The verse quote at the bottom is "Evening Harmony" by Charles Baudelaire, from the book "The Flowers of Evil". I take no credit. 
Also, did anyone notice that Namo didn't say he'd stay away? He just said Sauron didn't have to worry about it xD

TRANSLATIONS:
Trafnarub urkzû, naan lat slaiub ûkil inum-izub-ishi. = We will not meet again, but you will forever live in my memory. 
EXPLANATION
trafat=to meet => trafnarat=to not meet, 
inum = memory, from the verb inat, according to the model istat => istum, (to know, information) or krimpat => krimpum (to bind, tie)

PLEASE FEEDBACK PLEASE!? I am really curious about how bad my story exactly is...
------------------------------------------------------------------

Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net) on Sat Nov 14, 2026 3:08 pm