The Mage of Middle-Earth - CH - 16 (Patreon)

Sirius Black, now known as Jimmy Potter in the Shire, felt a wave of relief wash over him when he heard that Gandalf the Grey had finally left for Bree. The Shire returned to its usual peaceful routine, and the lingering tension that had built up with Gandalf’s presence seemed to dissipate with his departure. Sirius knew well enough that the wizard had been watching him closely, and while he had managed to keep his secrets hidden, the encounter had been too close for comfort.

With Gandalf gone, Sirius could finally breathe easier. The hobbits resumed their simple, carefree lives, and Sirius felt less need to constantly watch his every move. But while he had grown fond of the Shire and its people, there was one thing that still nagged at him—his desire for human companionship. The hobbits were friendly, no doubt, but their world was insular, and their culture, especially in terms of relationships, was entirely different from what Sirius was used to.

Hobbit women, for one, were always interested in settling down and starting a family. There was no casual romance, no fleeting encounters or brief dalliances. Marriage and long-term commitment were the expectations. For someone like Sirius, who had lived a life full of freedom and spontaneity, the idea of being tied down in such a way felt foreign and stifling. He could appreciate the beauty of the hobbit way of life, but it wasn’t for him.

That’s why he had chosen Bree.

Bree was a bustling town, very different from the quiet and tranquil Shire. Here, hobbits and humans lived side by side, and the town was alive with commerce and travel. As a crossroads between the Shire and the outside world, Bree had a unique energy. It was one of the few places where Sirius could move among humans without drawing too much attention, especially in his human form.

He had first ventured into Bree in secret, disguising himself as a traveler, as he often did when leaving the Shire. And it didn’t take long for him to discover the less talked about side of Bree—its taverns, its inns, and its women. The town had its share of prostitutes, something Sirius found himself drawn to. They offered him the kind of companionship he couldn’t find among hobbits—temporary, no strings attached, and most importantly, human.

It wasn’t that Sirius didn’t respect the hobbits; he simply wasn’t looking for a quiet life of domesticity. He needed excitement, something the Shire couldn’t offer. Bree, with its human touch and its lively atmosphere, gave him a chance to indulge his desires without the constraints of hobbit society.

He had spent many nights in Bree, losing himself in the anonymity of the town. The human women there reminded him of the life he once led, before Azkaban, before the war. They were a connection to his old self, a reminder of the freedoms he had fought so hard to reclaim.

But now, with Gandalf staying in Bree, Sirius knew he needed to keep his distance. The last thing he wanted was to run into the wizard again, especially in a place where he wasn’t Jimmy Potter the hobbit, but Sirius Black, a wizard with a more complicated past.

As much as he longed for the excitement and company Bree provided, he couldn’t risk exposing himself to Gandalf’s keen eyes. The wizard had already shown an interest in him, and Sirius wasn’t sure how long he could keep up the facade if they crossed paths again. So, for now, he decided to lay low, to avoid Bree until he was sure Gandalf had moved on.

Still, that didn’t make the waiting any easier. The days in the Shire, while peaceful, grew long without the occasional trip to Bree to break up the monotony. The hobbit way of life was simple and repetitive, and though Sirius had come to appreciate the beauty of it, there were moments when he longed for more.

He spent his days working in the fields, socializing with the hobbits in the evening, and retreating to his hidden tunnels at night. The secret compartments he had built beneath his hobbit hole were a reminder of the man he truly was—someone who always planned ahead, who never let his guard down completely.

But as the days turned into weeks, and Gandalf’s presence in Bree lingered, Sirius began to grow restless. He missed the excitement of the town, the human interaction, the thrill of being among people who didn’t expect him to settle down or conform to their way of life.

One evening, after a long day of work, Sirius found himself staring out at the distant hills, beyond which lay Bree. The desire to return, to once again lose himself in the anonymity of the town, tugged at him. But he knew better. Gandalf was still there, and the wizard’s watchful eyes would surely notice if Sirius appeared in town again.

So, for now, he would wait. The Shire might not offer the same thrills as Bree, but it provided something else—safety, a place to hide and build his plans. And that was worth more than a few nights of excitement.

Sirius knew that in order to maintain his cover as a hobbit and continue living in the Shire without raising suspicion, he needed to stay sharp, both mentally and physically. Life in the Shire was peaceful, but Sirius was no ordinary hobbit. The dark years of war and survival had ingrained in him the importance of always being prepared. Though he had reduced his size to that of a hobbit, he quickly realized that his strength and reflexes remained unchanged, an unexpected advantage. He couldn’t let that go to waste.

With that in mind, Sirius crafted a hobbit-sized sword and bow, carefully fashioning the weapons to fit his smaller form. The blade was sharp and light, perfect for quick strikes, and the bow, while small in comparison to human standards, had the same pull strength as a full-sized one. He spent hours in one of his secret rooms in his hobbit hole, training with the sword and practicing his archery.

But training alone wasn’t enough. Sirius knew he needed to hone his combat skills against moving opponents. So, using his knowledge of magic, he created enchanted golems—lifelike sparring partners that could adapt to his movements and give him a challenge. These magical constructs were durable and quick, mimicking the fighting styles of various foes he had faced in the past. With their enchanted wardstones as cores, they could engage in combat without hesitation, providing Sirius with opponents that wouldn’t hold back.

Day after day, Sirius would descend into the tunnels beneath his hobbit hole and spar with the golems. He pushed himself hard, making sure he stayed in top form, despite the quiet life he lived on the surface. He needed to be ready for anything, even if it seemed unlikely in the peaceful Shire. There was always the chance that trouble would find its way there, and if it did, Sirius wanted to be prepared.

The secret rooms beneath his hobbit hole became more than just a training ground. They were a sanctuary, a place where Sirius could be himself, free from the need to maintain the facade of Jimmy Potter. Down there, away from the prying eyes of the hobbits, he could wield magic freely, practicing spells and combat maneuvers that kept his mind sharp. He experimented with different charms and defensive magic, ensuring that he was ready for any potential threat that might come his way.

But even with the magical golems and rigorous training, Sirius didn’t let himself grow too comfortable. He was careful to balance his training with his life above ground, making sure that no one in the Shire would suspect his true nature. After all, the hobbits were a curious people, and if anyone noticed something strange about him, they were likely to gossip. Sirius couldn’t afford that, not when his peaceful life depended on remaining unnoticed.

The enchanted golems became stronger and more complex with each session, their movements more fluid and their attacks more unpredictable. Sirius found himself relishing the challenge. Each fight was a reminder of who he truly was—a warrior, a survivor, and someone who would never stop fighting, even in a place as idyllic as the Shire.

Despite the peacefulness of his surroundings, Sirius couldn’t shake the feeling that danger would come eventually. Perhaps it was paranoia from years of war and betrayal, or perhaps it was a deeper intuition that the calm of the Shire wouldn’t last forever. Either way, he wouldn’t be caught off guard. He would be ready.

And so, the quiet days in the Shire passed, with Sirius continuing his training in secret. On the surface, he was Jimmy Potter, the humble farmhand and friendly hobbit, but beneath the earth, in the tunnels he had carved out for himself, he remained Sirius Black—the warrior who had faced death and lived to tell the tale. And when the time came, he would be ready to defend the Shire, just as he had defended those he cared about in the past.



As Sirius continued to settle into his life in the Shire, he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to enhance his abilities further. While he enjoyed the tranquility of his new home, the memories of his past—both good and bad—reminded him that strength and power were essential for survival.

In the dark recesses of his secret tunnel, he began to gather ingredients for a body enhancement ritual he remembered from his youth. Although he had left behind much of his old life as a member of House Black, the knowledge he gained during those formative years lingered in the back of his mind. The rituals, the illegal spells, and the arcane practices he once studied were not easily forgotten. They had been ingrained in him during his early days, when he was raised as a dutiful heir to a dark legacy.

Sirius had long abandoned that life, but he understood that the potential for power was a tool—one that could be used for good or ill, depending on the wielder. He was determined to use it to protect the peaceful existence he had found among the hobbits.

He set to work preparing a dedicated room within his hidden complex. It was dimly lit, with the soft glow of enchanted candles casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. Magical Grimoire that he wrote lay open on a wooden table, their pages yellowed with age, detailing the intricacies of the body enhancement ritual. Sirius meticulously replaced the traditional ingredients from his past with more suitable items he had gathered in the Shire, choosing materials that felt more aligned with his current life.

He collected rare herbs known for their magical properties, carefully foraged from his travels allover Middle-Earth. Some had vibrant leaves that shimmered in the light, while others were more unassuming but potent nonetheless. He acquired shimmering gemstones that glowed faintly, each radiating a unique energy that he could harness for the ritual. Alongside these, he found artifacts of old—small trinkets from the local hobbit folk that held subtle enchantments, each with a story that added to their potency.

As he worked, Sirius couldn’t help but reminisce about his youth. The carefree days spent with James Potter and Remus Lupin had changed him, showing him a different path—a path of friendship, loyalty, and courage. But as much as those days defined him, the teachings from his childhood remained a part of him, a shadow that loomed behind the brighter memories. He felt a rush of nostalgia as he recalled how he had learned to manipulate magic through unconventional means, often at great personal risk.

After days of preparation, Sirius felt ready. He stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the collected ingredients, feeling the weight of the ritual pressing upon him. He focused on the incantations he would need to recite, the movements he would need to perform, and the intent behind each action. This wasn’t just about power; it was about protecting his newfound home and ensuring that he could defend it against any threat that might arise.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius closed his eyes and began to chant the ancient words, each syllable resonating with the energy around him. The air thickened, and he felt the pull of magic as it coiled around him. He envisioned the energy flowing into his body, enhancing his physical attributes while sharpening his senses.

The ritual unfolded with an intensity that surprised him. As he moved through the steps, he felt his heart race, his body reacting to the magic coursing through him. With each incantation, he felt the latent power within him awakening, a dormant force that he had almost forgotten existed.

But as he neared the ritual's climax, a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. Was he making the right choice? The path he had chosen was riddled with shadows from his past, and he was stepping closer to the darkness that he had fought so hard to escape. Yet the thought of the Shire—the peaceful, beautiful land he had come to love—brought him back. He could not allow himself to fall back into the chaos of his past life; he was doing this for them.

In that moment, Sirius pushed aside the doubt and let the magic flow freely, embracing the transformation that awaited him. He felt the surge of energy envelop him, expanding and amplifying his essence. The shadows from his past no longer loomed over him; instead, they became part of the tapestry of his existence, woven into the strength he was reclaiming.

As the final words of the ritual escaped his lips, a bright flash of light erupted around him, illuminating the chamber and then fading into a warm glow that settled deep within his core. Sirius felt invigorated, transformed. He was no longer just Jimmy Potter, the simple hobbit; he was Sirius Black, a warrior reborn.

With this new power, he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead—be it defending the Shire or confronting the darkness he once knew. And as he exited the secret room, a newfound determination surged within him.

Sirius reveled in the aftermath of the ritual, the invigorating surge of magic coursing through him made him feel alive in a way he hadn't experienced for years. However, that very exhilaration came with an unsettling realization: the ritual had amplified not just his physical prowess, but also his magical abilities beyond what he had anticipated. His control, once so precise, felt precarious, and he knew that he needed to tread carefully.

With the enhancement came a sense of invincibility, a heady mix of power and potential that stirred within him. Yet, beneath that thrill was an unsettling truth—the essence of his Black family magic had infiltrated his core, binding him to dark magic in ways he had never intended. This newfound power was not just a boon; it came with the weight of a legacy he had tried to escape. The dark arts, which had been anathema to the life he wanted to lead, now beckoned with an alluring whisper.

Realizing that his old magic-dampening necklace could no longer contain the surge within him, Sirius set to work crafting a new one. This time, he infused the necklace with a blend of charms and wards designed not only to suppress his power but also to channel it more effectively. He poured hours into its creation, ensuring that it was both functional and ornate—a reflection of the delicate balance he sought between power and restraint.

While crafting the necklace, Sirius trained diligently in his secret room, honing his magical abilities with fervor. He sparred against enchanted golems, forcing himself to maintain control over the potent energy that now flowed through him. Each day, he pushed himself further, testing the limits of his strength and speed. The physical enhancements were incredible—he could run faster, jump higher, and strike harder than ever before. But he needed to master the magic that surged beneath his skin.

As he practiced, he realized the wand he had relied on for so long was no longer adequate. The connection he once had with it felt muted, as if the powerful magic within him had outstripped its capacity to channel his will. Frustrated, he decided to craft a new focus—a staff that could accommodate his enhanced abilities.

He scoured his secret trove for materials, finally settling on the bones of Smaug, the dragon he had encountered in the lonely mountain. The bones were rich with ancient magic, and he felt a connection to them that transcended mere utility. With careful hands, he transformed the dragon's spine into a bone-white staff, imbuing it with the essence of his own magic as he worked. At its top, he set a powerful crystal that pulsed with energy, the focal point of the staff’s strength.

The staff was a magnificent creation, radiating power and sophistication. However, to maintain his guise as a simple hobbit traveler, Sirius knew he needed a way to disguise it. He enchanted the staff so that it could shrink to the size of a dagger, allowing him to carry it inconspicuously. When he summoned it, the dagger would appear in his hand, and with a flick of his will, it would expand back into the full staff, ready for action.

Once satisfied with his new creation, Sirius ventured into an uninhabited area far from the Shire, a place where he could experiment without fear of attracting unwanted attention. He stood in a secluded clearing, the moonlight spilling over the landscape, and raised the staff above his head. The moment he invoked its power, he felt the wild magic erupting from it like a storm, coursing through him and into the air.

He tested various incantations, marveling at the potency of the magic at his fingertips. Fire erupted from the crystal, illuminating the night with a fierce glow, and shadows danced in its wake. He conjured barriers of shimmering energy and unleashed blasts of raw power, each spell more potent than the last.

But as he practiced, he also felt the unrestrained flow of magic threatening to spiral out of control. It was intoxicating, yet he realized he needed to tone down the power, lest it consume him or draw unwanted attention. Channeling his focus, Sirius visualized the flow of energy as a river, strong and powerful but needing banks to contain it. He began to exercise control over the staff, crafting barriers to keep the excess energy in check.

After a few hours of rigorous practice, he finally felt satisfied. The staff responded to him with a grace and precision that made him smile. He felt more grounded, the magic no longer a wild tempest but a force he could harness and wield.

With the night drawing to a close, Sirius returned to his secret home in the Shire, feeling more like the master of his own destiny than he ever had before. He had transformed not only his physical form but his very connection to magic itself. As he settled back into his hobbit hole, he contemplated the future that lay ahead—one filled with possibilities and the shadows of his past.

While he was determined to live as a humble hobbit, he knew that the world beyond the Shire was fraught with danger. As long as he had his staff and the power that came with it, he could protect the peaceful life he had carved out. And when the time came to confront the darkness that lingered beyond the borders of his newfound home, he would be ready.