In LOTR with Harry Potter system

"Didn't your Palantír break earlier?" Balin asked suspiciously, raising a brow. "Can you still see anything with it?"

"Aye," added Bifur, folding his arms. "We'd have better luck if we split up and searched ourselves."

Sylas ignored their doubts, his gaze focused on the swirling crystal in his hand. As the others bickered behind him, he quietly concentrated.

A soft pulse of light shimmered from the Palantír, and then, finally, Bilbo's small figure appeared in the orb's depths.

"There he is!" Sylas called. "It's Bilbo! He's trying to find a way out!"

The Dwarves immediately crowded around him, eyes wide with delight as they leaned over his shoulders to see.

"Look at that, he's all right!"

"Seems your Palantír isn't so broken after all," Balin muttered, clearly impressed despite himself.

Without wasting time, Sylas turned left into a branching tunnel. "Come on. He's close. Let's meet up with him before we leave this place."

Gandalf followed at his side, staff tapping softly against the stone floor. The rest of the company fell in behind them, shuffling quickly through the dim, winding corridors.

After a few turns, a familiar voice echoed from deeper in the tunnel.

"Bilbo!" Bomber called out with a wide grin.

Far ahead, a startled Bilbo spun around. Relief washed over his face as he waved enthusiastically. "I'm here!"

They rushed to meet him. The Dwarves enveloped him in a flurry of hearty hugs and backslaps.

"You lucky Hobbit!" Balin exclaimed. "Falling from that height and coming out without a scratch! If Sylas hadn't told us you were unharmed, we'd have panicked ourselves senseless."

Bilbo chuckled breathlessly, though his eyes were still wide. "I'm glad to see you all... But, how did you find me down here?"

"Don't tell me you've forgotten?" Ori said, nudging him lightly. "Sylas has that Palantír of his. Showed us exactly where you were."

"But it's a finicky thing," Dori added. "For a while, we couldn't see you at all. No idea why."

At that, Bilbo's cheerful expression faltered ever so slightly. His hand slipped subconsciously into his pocket, fingers brushing against a cool, familiar object inside.

He glanced up, only to meet Sylas's steady, knowing gaze.

Bilbo quickly looked away, his face flushing just a little as he avoided everyone's eyes.

Gandalf, standing quietly to the side, noticed the subtle exchange. 

Unlike the Dwarves, who had assumed the Palantír had simply malfunctioned, Gandalf knew that the Seeing Stone was nearly indestructible.

The reason the Palantír couldn't locate Bilbo earlier had nothing to do with the artifact itself. Rather, it was because Bilbo had encountered something that shielded him from its gaze.

Gandalf, though curious, chose not to press the matter. He respected Bilbo's silence.

As for Sylas, he had long understood what had happened.

And so, the two simply exchanged a glance and quietly chose not to ask.

Bilbo, sensing their unspoken mercy, let out a quiet sigh of relief. Yet alongside that relief came a flicker of guilt. He fidgeted with his fingers, hesitant.

"Um, Sylas… I came across something back there..."

Before he could finish, Gandalf's sharp voice cut through the dim air. His eyes darted toward a shifting shadow ahead.

"Who's there?"

Without hesitation, Sylas extended his wand. "Frangere!" he cast.

A burst of shattering magic streaked into the darkness. The brilliant light revealed a pale, gangly creature with large, glinting eyes and a twisted posture, flinching in the glow like a scalded rat.

The spell slammed into the stone just in front of the creature, causing the rock to explode into shards. The force sent the thing tumbling backward with a cry.

Sylas narrowed his eyes. Gollum? The creature who once bore the Ring?

But before he could act again, the creature—Gollum—glared at Sylas with a look of terror, then cast a long, pained glance at Bilbo. His yellowed eyes brimmed with obsession and despair.

Then, with a sudden twist, he vanished into the jagged network of stone tunnels, scrambling away like a shadow swallowed by night.

"What was that?" one of the Dwarves blurted, bewildered. "That wasn't a Goblin."

"Bilbo," Balin asked, frowning. "You've seen that thing before, haven't you?"

Bilbo hesitated. Then he nodded slowly. "Yes. He called himself Gollum. Said he feeds on the dead Goblins down there. A bit mad, I think. Talks to himself a lot."

"You got away from that thing?" Dori asked, eyes wide.

"I kept him busy with riddles," Bilbo explained, rubbing the back of his neck. "Eventually, I found a chance to slip away."

"Talking riddles with monsters, now that's Hobbit bravery for you," Bofur muttered with a chuckle. "Still, a shame Sylas didn't finish him off when we had the chance."

"Let it be," Gandalf said firmly. "Our priority is to get out of here. Sylas, if you would?"

Sylas nodded, lifting the Palantír in his hand once more. "This way."

Guided by the crystal's glow, the group wound their way through the final stretch of tunnels. Not long after, daylight broke through the stone, and the company emerged on the far side of the Misty Mountains.

The moment fresh air hit their faces, the Dwarves erupted in cheers.

"We're out at last!" Kili shouted, flinging his arms wide.

"About time!" grunted Dwalin, taking a deep breath.

Sylas slipped the Palantír back into his pouch, then reached for one of the enchanted bags at his hip. He turned to Bilbo and offered it with a small smile.

"Here," he said. "It's a magic money bag. About two cubic meters inside, and I've already tucked away some of the treasure from the Goblin cave. There's still room, in case you want to store your pack or anything bulky."

Bilbo took it gingerly. As he peeked inside, his eyes widened at the sight of gold coins and sparkling gemstones nestled in the magically expanded space.

"I… thank you, Sylas," he said, his voice soft with gratitude.

He clutched the bag, then hesitated. A flicker of uncertainty passed across his face. After glancing to make sure the others were out of earshot, he leaned a little closer and whispered.

"Sylas… actually… I picked up something at the bottom of the cave…"

Bilbo opened his mouth to speak, but Sylas gently raised a hand, stopping him. His eyes held a warm, knowing smile.

"I'm glad you trust me, Bilbo," Sylas said softly, "but this is your discovery, your fate. You don't owe me any explanation."

Bilbo blinked, caught off guard by the response. But his hesitation melted away, and he lowered his voice with conviction.

"I understand, Sylas… but I want you to know."

He glanced around, then leaned closer and whispered, "I found a ring at the bottom of that cave. It… it's strange. The moment I put it on, it was as if I vanished from the world. I became invisible. No one could see me."

Sylas gave a faint nod. Of course, he had already known. But seeing the mix of awe and unease in Bilbo's expression, he knew it was important for the Hobbit to speak it aloud.

Still, he couldn't let the moment pass without a warning.

"Bilbo," he said seriously, "you must be careful with that ring. Unless it's absolutely necessary, don't use it. Its power comes with a price."

Although Hobbits were known for their strong resistance to the Ring's corruption, they were not completely immune. The One Ring had a will of its own, and prolonged contact could erode even the stoutest soul.

After the War of the Ring, Bilbo was invited to sail to the Undying Lands, not just as a gesture of honor, but also for healing. The Ring's corruption had left a deep mark on him, one not visible on the body, but on the spirit.

To help Bilbo understand, Sylas added, "That creature you saw before, Gollum. He wasn't always like that. He was once a creature very much like you."

Bilbo's eyes widened in disbelief. "Gollum? A Hobbit?"

"Yes".

Bilbo fidgeted uneasily. He wanted to deny it, to tell himself that Sylas must be mistaken, but the more he thought about it, the more it made a terrible sort of sense.

Gollum's size… his voice… even his riddling speech, it all resembled that of a Hobbit. Twisted and corrupted, yes, but disturbingly familiar.

And then there was the Ring.

It called to him.

Not in words, but in whispers that curled around his heart like smoke, seductive, possessive. The longer he carried it, the more he found himself thinking things he never would have dared before.

'Keep it secret. Hide it. Don't let them take it.'

Sometimes, even darker thoughts surfaced. 'What if they found out? What if you had to kill them to keep it?'

Bilbo shivered. Just imagining such thoughts made his stomach churn. And yet, the Ring sat in his pocket like a brand of fire. He wanted to hurl it away, but also couldn't bear the idea of losing it.

His mind felt split in two. One part of him was Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, honest and simple. The other… a quiet, hungry voice whispering from the shadows of his soul.

"Sylas," he asked at last, voice barely above a whisper, "what should I do?"

Sylas looked at him gently, without judgment. "Don't be afraid, Bilbo. I only told you so you'd be aware. You're stronger than you think. Just stay mindful. Don't overuse it. As long as you hold onto who you are, the Ring won't control you."

Bilbo nodded slowly, the fear in his heart easing, if only a little.

Their group resumed their march down the mountain path, the sun barely peeking through the grey clouds above. The wind had begun to rise.

Suddenly, a distant howl pierced the air.

Then came another howl. And another. Followed by the thunder of heavy paws striking earth.

"It's the Wargs!" cried Balin, his eyes narrowing as he peered into the distance.

Down in the valley below, a wave of snarling beasts and brutish Orcs on massive wolf mounts surged toward them.

Gandalf's staff slammed to the ground, and his voice rang out like a war bell.

"To arms!"