When Hermione unwittingly translates an elvish prophecy she is unceremoniously whisked away to Middle Earth. She meets Kings and Elves, Dwarves and Hobbits. What will happen when the King of Gondor offers her a peace no other had before? ----- Her tongue stumbled over the unfamiliar pronunciation of the language itself. "Ero gwanath pul'rumá he dan ú thrand gwanath. I Eledhrím aranarth ú nan sen amar thel'mela he. Ar'i aran na'nesta he fae." Hermione immediately knew she had made a mistake. Her magic felt as though it was exploding from her skin. She gripped her wand tightly as she doubled over, feeling herself being engulfed in flames. The pain was quickly overwhelming her senses as it raced through her body from her toes up to the crown of her head. She closed her eyes trying and failing not to panic.