Chapter 01
By: Banana Flavored Eskimo

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Her neck was at such an odd angle. How could she possibly be staring at the sky when she was so obviously lying flat on her stomach? Lifting her head proved to be much more difficult than usual as the action required far more strength than what she was used to. And was it her, or did the action also take much longer than usual?

Questions flew through her mind at a mile a minute as she spied a gleaming pile of gold sitting right behind her. How peculiar to find such a large amass of treasure lying about in the open.

Leaning forward, she inspected the precious metals only to find that it was not gold at all, but instead scales. Warm scales that moved in sync with each breath she took.

Merlin! It had to be a creature of some sort, but what?

Deciding to investigate further, she peered down at the curious bundle only to realize that she should not have been able to move in such a manner.

Stumbling back, she found herself to be much larger than what she was used to and horribly unbalanced due to a multitude of reasons. Her analytical mind quickly categorized the anomalies more out of habit than anything. It also distracted herself from having a full on panic attack.

1. Her neck was unusually long, almost swan like in length and shape.
2. She was now standing on four legs instead of two and could see sharp deadly claws curling about each long scaled appendage.
3. The gleaming scales of gold that she had been admiring a few moments ago was indeed her own.
4. She had to be reptilian in some shape or form given the rest of her analysis.
5. She had wings and only one type of scaled animal had wings.

Conclusion: She was a dragon.

A scoff escaped her lips that was followed by a strange stinging sensation in her mouth. It was as if she had touched the tip of her tongue with a low electric current of some sort. It was tolerable, but more irritating than anything.

Sitting down proved to be quite cumbersome as she tried to seat herself on her rear like she had seen her familiar do so many times in the past, yet as a dragon it proved to be a very uncomfortable position. Shifting, she tried once again to lay on her side. Her long sinuous tail curled around her large frame lazily and she paused briefly to admire the coloring of her scales. This position was a vast improvement, but still felt decidedly uncomfortable.

Pouring through her encyclopedic like knowledge, she did her best to recall everything she had learned from her Care of Magical Creature class - specifically everything she had read up on about dragons.

She recalled once piece of information about elder drakes that mentioned that they preferred to lay upon vast piles of gold and gems. Contrary to popular belief, dragons were not greedy creatures because they had no need for material wealth or status. Dragons hoarded gold for one simple reason: comfort.

Due to their nearly impervious scales, dragons needed a hard, yet malleable metal to rest on - gold. It yielded to their enormous girth, yet still provided a firm resting ground.

There was a theory that gold was also an essential part of a dragons life force. It was well known that dragons would place the priority of a well amassed hoard over food. Given that a dragon could survive decades without sustenance only helped to solidify the theory, but nothing had been proven as the dragons of her age were much different than the ones of old.

Which lead to another theory. If she had indeed taken the form of a dragon of an older era, that meant…

"Testing, testing. One. Two. Three."

She was somewhat shocked to hear her own familiar voice emanate from her new vocal chords. It did not sound any different and perhaps she had been expecting a lower timbre given her new gargantuan frame, but she still retained her original tone.

Given this new set of conclusions, she was rather proud that she had managed to keep calm. However, given her previous experiences and escapades with her friends, she also had a lot of practice adjusting to bizarre and somewhat unpredictable situations.

Now came the questions as to where in the world was she?

Her first thought was that she must be in the Forbidden Forest, but a deep breath told her that she was incorrect. She could not explain it, but the magic smelled different here. It was earthy and far more pure than anything she had ever felt in her years of schooling.

Rising to a standing position took some effort as she had quite a few new appendages to worry about, but she was able to manage a steady sort of gait as she ambled about the wide clearing.

Flapping her wings experimentally, she was somewhat disheartened to learn that they were not capable of lifting her enormous size from the ground, but they did create large gusts of winds that rustled tree branches and sent birds flying.

Perhaps she would avoid doing that in the future until she came to larger open space.

Her next thought was to try and shift to her original form.

Logic told her that she was not a dragon, despite her current form. It also told her that magical animagus shapes were not possible.

However, she ignored that piece of information and instead focused on her breathing as she visualized her original shape.

It was much more comfortable than using a portkey or apparating as she felt herself shrinking drastically until she was able to discern her very human hands.

"Goodness," she breathed after gathering a moment to collect herself.

Her dragon form must be quite large considering that she clearly remembered being eye level with the tree tops. Now those same trees towered above her.

"Hey!"

Startled, she turned towards the sound to find a young human boy who looked to be around the age of sixteen - not much younger than herself. He was rather lithe like a swimmer and had a smattering of freckles across his nose that reminded her dearly of her red headed friend.

"Oh pardon my lady. I was expecting to find a large beast of sorts here. My father and his men were running a perimeter check when we noticed a disturbance in the trees."

She took in a sharp breath as she fought to remain calm. She was most definitely that disturbance.

It must have been apparent that she was unsettled because the young male immediately abandoned the short sword he was carrying and approached her slowly.

"Now don't be worrying Miss. I promise that no beast will hurt you as long as I am here. I swear on my honor."

He was rather noble and had the situation not be so bizarre she would have found his pledge endearing. As it was, she was still trying to gather her wits about herself.

The shouts of men only added to her anxiety as she felt herself collapse.

The boy made his way quickly to her side and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as he called out to the newcomers. "Father! Over here. There be no beast in this area."

A burly man of about forty burst through and into the clearing, a group of other males of varying ages and sizes following him easily. "Shiron! Never run off ahead of me like that again. What if you had encountered a dragon?"

She flinched at the word and the action brought her presence to his attention. "What do you have there?"

"Father. I found her and she's in need of our help."

The male that could only be Shiron's father ambled closer to see his eldest crouched rather protectively beside a fair young looking maiden. The poor thing was shaking like a leaf in the wind. He took in her rather expensive looking cloak and guessed that she must be of noble blood. The coloring alone was telling as having a cloak of deep burgundy with gold trimming was not something a simple country girl would ever be able to afford.

"You poor lass. Help her up Shiron and let us bring her back to the city."

Strong yet gentle hands helped her to her feet as she felt herself sway slightly.

"There now miss. Don't worry. I have you."

"Shiron! Shiron!"

A young boy of about six burst through the tree line. His dark raven tresses were horribly messy on his head as he beamed up at the elder boy with something akin to hero worship.

"Girion! Mother will kill me and then skin you if she learns that you skipped your lessons again to follow father and I," he scolded lightly.

"But I wanted to help patrol," complained the young child.

Shiron let out a short laugh as he stared at his youngest sibling fondly. "There was no trouble this time Girion, but we did find a lovely young miss in need. Do you suppose you could help me guard her on the way back?"

Girion stood straight as he saluted his brother. "Of course I can! Miss? Miss, may I know your name?"

Shiron wanted to smack himself for forgetting something so simple as pleasantries.

The woman, who had been quite amused by the exchange between siblings, was able to kneel down rather gracefully before the young child. Her smile was absolutely enchanting as they lit up her deep brown eyes with kindness. "My name is Hermione my noble knight."

Girion blushed at being called a knight, but seemed even more pleased as he grinned widely at the young woman.

Shiron looked absolutely enchanted.

Their father simply laughed with the rest of his men. It looked as if his eldest finally found someone to fancy. It was about time. As the next Lord of Dale, Shiron was far too focused on his training to care about the young women in their thriving town.

Perhaps this mysterious maiden would be his future daughter-in-law. To be honest, he hoped that they would take a liking to one another. Noble breeding shone through and he had a feeling that an alliance with a wealthy nation was on the horizon.

Dale was a bustling city rich in trade and culture. It was situated at the foot of the Lonely Mountain, home to a great dwarven kingdom.

Hermione was somewhat surprised to learn that Shiron was son to King Axion, ruler of Dale. Despite his title, he did not act very princely. He was actually quite humble and a bit too serious at times. She supposed it had to do with being the next in line for the throne, but she found herself liking the young man.

If she were honest with herself, she would admit that he was also very handsome. Deep blue eyes and raven black hair added to his allure. Pair it with that honest smile of his and it was no wonder she had been on the receiving end of more than one dark look from the young women in the city.

However, there was one thing she found absolutely taxing about his character. Shiron hovered. He was actually worse than Molly Weasely when it came to checking on her well-being and even though she knew he meant well, she really needed space.

Which brought her to her current position wedged between a narrow bookcase and wall in the kingdom's vast library.

This is what she had been reduced to. Hermione Granger. Order of Merlin: First Class. War hero of the second great wizarding war. Brightest witch of the age and most probably the first magical to accomplish a complete animagus shift into a magical creature. And she was hiding from a mortal boy that acted more like a mother hen than anything.

She supposed that she could not fault him.

Since her arrival one year prior, Hermione had found herself growing weaker. She had discreetly ran diagnostic spells - thankfully her wand had survived and been tucked in the many folds of her robe - and found nothing wrong with her physically.

Magically, however, was a different story. It was as if her magical core was diminishing and to be honest, the thought frightened her.

It was one reason why she had been in the library in the first place. When in doubt, Hermione always went to the library as it always held answers. In this case, she was in luck because the public library of Dale was diverse and grand with tomes and scrolls from all corners of Middle Earth.

The librarians had been somewhat reluctant to let her handle some of their more delicate scrolls, thinking her to be uneducated. Educated females were a rarity in these times and only those of noble birth thought to put their daughters through schooling and even then it was limited.

Hermione had always been a scholar and was somewhat affronted from being denied knowledge. What followed had been a very vocal young woman lecturing two elderly librarians and showing them that she was not some random piece of fluff. They had been more accommodating after that and let her use the library as she saw fit.

It was here she found answers about this new and foreign land. It was here she learned more about drakes and their characteristics. It was here she found that she was definitely in an alternate dimension.

She had not allowed herself to grieve for everything she lost as logic overcame emotions as she pushed on to learn more. Perhaps when she was more settled she would analyze her feelings on a deeper level, but now she had other things on her mind.

Her weakening magical core being the most prevalent of her concerns led her to a theory that it was closely linked with her new magical form. When Sirius had taken on his canine form, there were certain behavioral aspects that she observed from him. One in particular was companionship. Dogs were social creatures and without proper stimulation, grew depressed and withdrawn. The same happened with Sirius when he had been confined in Azkaban and once again in Grimmuald. She never made the connection, until now, when she felt a pull towards the Lonely Mountain.

She had read in an old scroll that the mountain housed one of the largest treasures sought by elf, man and dwarf alike. It was a large store of gems, rubies, emeralds and other precious stones that made her heart race with the thought of laying upon such an impressive treasure.

Shaking herself from such thoughts she made a decision. She would leave for the Lonely Mountain come nightfall.

The Lonely Mountain was aptly named. Despite being the home to the greatest kingdom of the realm, it looked to be rather daunting from the outside.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

The voice called out from above. Peering upwards, Hermione could make out a stout little face hidden behind a thick beard decorated with braids and beads. "Please master dwarf. I seek an audience with your king."

"What could a child of man - let alone a woman - have to say to the great king Thrór?"

At this, Hermione raised her wand and sent a powerful glow, the spell lighting up the area around her magnificently.

"Istari," he breathed in an awestruck tone.

Hermione did not correct him. Let him make his own conclusions. Her concern was the king from under the mountain.

King Thrór was used to long days. Hours spent pouring over scrolls and meeting with his advisors led to many sleepless nights for the great king.

"My king. A female Istari is asking for an audience."

Sitting up in his throne, he cast a glance at his young grandson, Thorin. At less than twenty years, he was still considered to be an adolescent among his people. He looked to be around five human years and was quite tall for a dwarf of his age. Thrór had great hopes for him and knew that he would bring glory to the line of Dain.

"Go to your room Thorin."

"But I wish to see this Istari. I was not aware that there were female wizards."

Thror's lips pressed into a thin line. Indeed, it was quite puzzling. The four wizards were a peculiar race and tended to keep close company with elves. Perhaps this female would be similar?

"Very well, you may stay, but do not interrupt."

"Yes."

Looking to his guards, he motioned for them to open the doors to the throne room. Let her see the magnificence of Erobor.

Hermione practically hummed with pleasure as she entered the golden hall of the dwarven realm. By the Gods it was beautiful.

Stepping into the gilded hallway, she took note of the gleaming golden halls and jewel encrusted sconces. Before her transformation, she would have found the entire display to be quite gaudy. Now she found it to be absolutely breathtaking.

"Istari. I, Thrór, son of Dáin I welcome you to the halls of Erobor."

Taking a deep breath of the very air within the mountain, Hermione swept into a graceful curtsey before the dwarven king. "My Lord, I thank you for seeing me without any notice. I apologize, but it was quite urgent."

Thrór was intrigued.

When his guards had mentioned a female Istari, he had expected an old crone. However, before him was an enchanting young female with eyes like garnets and skin that gleamed under his golden lights. Had he not already found his one, he probably would have thought of courting her.

Istari were invaluable allies and tying one through the bonds of marriage would seal his dominance over other realms.

Thorin must have thought something along the lines of his grandfather because he too was captivated by the female Istari. He had never seen a female from another race before and was not sure what to make of her. She certainly did not resemble any of the dwelleth's he knew. She was also rather slender, petite was the word he had learned the other day, and had no facial hair to keep her chin warm. Peculiar.

Stepping from beside his grandfather's throne, he watched the female Istari make eye contact with himself and fought the urge to blush as she smiled brilliantly at him.

He decided then and there that he quite liked her smile and was happy it was not hidden by a beard.

"Thorin, step back lad."

"Oh please my Lord, do not be angry. He must be curious. I surmise this is the first time he has met someone outside his race?"

"A female yes. My grandson is still young."

"He is strong. You should be proud my Lord because he is sure to bring greatness to the line of Durin," she said softly.

Thrór laughed outright at her words and felt himself practically preen under her praise. She really was enchanting.

"My Lord, before we get off topic, I would like to speak with you about a delicate matter and I hope that you keep and open mind."

Sensing the seriousness in her tone, Thrór turned towards his youngest. "Please go to bed Thorin."

Knowing best not to question his grandfather, Thorin nodded obediently and disappeared behind a hallway with two guards to escort him to his chambers.

He really hoped that whatever it was this Istari said to his father did not incite his anger. He wanted to see her again and hoped to receive more of her smiles.

How to begin?

Perhaps the Gryffindor approach was best? Dwarves were known for their brash and blunt mannerisms.

"I seek access to your treasure room."

Thrór was waiting for this strange Istari to say more as her kind tended to speak in riddles, but it seemed that this one was more dwarf like than most. For that he appreciated her direct approach, yet what she was requesting was ludicrous.

"No." He said simply.

"My lord, I do not want any of your gold. I just wish to lay in it."

"You make it seem as if you are some dragon."

"I am," she said not missing a beat.

"What?"

"I am what I suppose you call a hybrid. I am not sure why or how I achieved that particular form, but all I know is that my magical core is getting weaker with every breath I take. I just need to lie in your treasure room for a few hours each day in order to regain stability."

Thrór understood the words coming from her mouth, but had problems grasping the thought that this young woman was a dragon.

Hermione, seeing his confusion, thought to show him directly.

The shift was easy, much easier than she though it would be and soon she too was gleaming alongside the golden halls of the great throne room of Erobor. Luckily, she was much smaller than other drakes and still had a lot of space to turn about and walk around if she felt so inclined.

Thrór was gobsmacked at the vision before him. Despite her rather daunting form, she was still breathtaking, perhaps even more so in this form because she glittered like the finest gold of his treasury. He was sure if she were to actually lie upon the piles, she would blend in quite easily with the rest of his wealth.

"In return I offer you my magic and protection. Nobody would dare attack you with a drake guarding your treasure and kingdom," she stated.

Now that was intriguing, but could he trust her word?

Seeing his hesitancy, she decided to ease his worries. "I swear upon my magic that I will guard the treasures and lives of the Lonely Mountain with all that I am and seek no compensation other than the permission to simply lay amongst the wealth of Erobor. So mote it be."

Her words rang true and Thrór knew she meant them for he felt the oath take place in his very heart and wash across his kingdom.

"So be it lady drake. I will allow you to take refuge in my treasure room, but guard it and my people well or-"

"You need not tell me of the stakes my Lord. An oath such as mine binds me magically and only can be broken upon death," she stated solemnly.

"Very well," he said. "Come along then. Your room awaits," he said with a small quirk of his brow.

Hermione grinned a very dragon like grin that showcased all over her sharp teeth. The look would have been quite frightening, if it weren't for the wagging tail showing her pleasure at his words.

"Hermione! Thank the Valar you are ok!"

Hermione smiled as she was practically swept up into Shiron arms, his body pressing her slight form against his own in absolute relief.

She had not even entered the city of Dale as Shiron had intercepted them at the gate. He looked absolutely exhausted as his slender build shook a bit from the exerted strength he had given upon their greeting.

"Shiron. I'm sorry for worrying you, but I needed to leave. If I hadn't, I probably would have died."

And she was not exaggerating in the least for when she had finally collapsed upon Thror's vast treasure, she could feel her life force return to her.

"Please unhand the Lady Drake as she is not to be addressed so casually by strangers," called a gruff voice from behind her.

Hermione blushed as she recalled the dwarven guard that Thror had sent along with her to Dale. They were a rather stern group of six dwarves and Thror had bragged that they were his fiercest warriors. She had tried to refuse at first, seeing as she was only going to Dale, but Thror had been adamant and she really could not argue with him. It was like arguing with a brick wall.

"Wha?"

Shiron's puzzlement was clear as he gazed at the stocky guard of dwarves, each emblazoned with emblems of the house of Durin and suited in armor of the finest quality. He knew that a shield alone would cost a small fortune.

"Shiron. I needed to speak with king Thror about a rather delicate matter and we have come to an agreement. I just wanted to return to inform you that I will not be staying here permanently."

The young prince was shaking his head and he tried to grasp what she was saying. "Hermione I-"

"And she is to be addressed as Lady Drake," interrupted another dwarf in the same gruff tone.

"Lady Drake?" He questioned with a frown.

Hermione winced. She did not want to reveal her exact nature, but seeing as though the dwarves were being so rigid in their formalities, she knew that she needed to tell Shiron everything.

"Shiron, when you found me you were right. There was a great beast in the clearing."

"Hermione. My lady, I do not-"

Placing her fingers upon his lips, she marveled at the smoothness of his mouth before smiling sadly. "There is a reason they are calling me by the title drake Shiron."

The look of absolute horror on his face was like a dagger through her heart. "Shiron, please-"

"I think you should go."

"Shiron I-

"And address me by my proper title Lady Drake."

The cold disattachment of his voice practically broke her as tears began to gather in her eyes. However, as a first teardrop fell, the soft 'clink' upon stone drew her attention to the perfect tear drop shaped ruby upon the ground.

Shiron looked torn between amazement and revulsion. It only caused more tears to fall as gemstones of quartz, emerald and diamond materialized from her fallen tears.

The dwarves looked absolutely entranced as they realized that their lords dragon could create gems of such perfection with her tears alone. The possibilities were endless and the greed in their eyes apparent.

Hermione gathered herself as she stepped back from a stone faced Shiron and looked to her assembled guard that had gathered the precious gems for future use. "My apologies for my deception your highness. I will not bother you with my presence again."

With that, she simply turned away from her first friend in this world back towards the Lonely Mountain.

Shiron watched her go as he picked up the first fallen tear of the woman he had fallen deeply for. A beautiful ruby. His own tears began to fall as he realized what he had done.

AN: Why? Because I can.

Forgive me. I started another fic when I haven't finished the others.

In addition, my computer was reformatted so everything was erased so I'm trying to recall what I had written previously. It's not an easy task.

It has been ages since I've read The Hobbit, so if you see any problems let me know. Obviously Shiron is a created character, but I thought it would be fun to add him to the mix.

Review?

- Banana Flavored Eskimo