Title: The Dragon's Pet
The Valar give Hermione Granger the choice and opportunity to redeem Smaug. She accepts and succeeds. This changes everything.
Harry Potter, The Hobbit
Characters/Pairing: Hermione Granger/Smaug, Thorin Oakenshield/fem!Bilbo Baggins
AU, gen, het, angst, drama, action, romance, crossover, xover,
Rated: NC17 Mature+ Explicit

Spoilers: Pretty much all of The Hobbit.
AN: I'm twisting canon into a pretzel. Consider this AU-canon, with plenty of OOC. My own twist on dragon biology/culture/history in Middle Earth
violence, killing, death, graphic sexual intimacy, voyeurism, BDSM themes, quasi-bestiality, egg-laying, dragon shifters
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or 'verses, I'm just playing with them for fun not profit.

For: Rough Trade: Challenge 1 | April 1-14, 2015 | historical, 20K,


Summary: The Valar give Hermione Granger the choice and opportunity to redeem Smaug. It takes a long while for her to succeed but she does. A bit of dragon lore help bring them together, more intimately.

AN: The bits about dragon biology/reproduction/history/memories is completely made up.

Edited: April 15, 2015

~ooO Part I – Life in Erebor Ooo~

Hermione winced as she looked around a vast white expanse with no discernable horizon, ground or sky. One moment she had been standing before the Veil, the next falling through it, pushed by a jealous co-worker in the Department of Mysteries. It had been fast and quite painful, being supercharged and dying from the magical overload, her body literally ripping apart from the stresses.

Waking up in the middle of a whitewash was not her idea of a rewarding afterlife. After all she had gone through, fought for, surely she deserved a nicer afterlife.

"Perhaps because it is not the afterlife."

She turned around. Standing there were two complete strangers. One was a strongly built man with a full black beard and thick mane, both braided into thick ropes. He wore brown suede leather pants and a sleeveless vest. His feet were shod in matching fringed leather moccasins. The entire outfit looked vaguely Native American. The woman was slightly taller, more slimly built with a mane of green tinged blonde hair and bright green eyes. Her dress seemed to be made of leaves, green yellow rust brown. Around the edges and over the bodice it was accented by multi-hued flower petals. Neither of them seemed aggressive or threatening, so Hermione forced herself to relax.

"If this is not the afterlife, then what is it?"

"You can consider it a waiting room." The man's voice was low and deep. Hermione was certain it would have sent tingles through her lady parts if she was still flesh and blood. At the moment she was vaguely ambient towards any sort of physical pleasures.

"May I ask who I am speaking to?"

"My name is Aule. This is Yavanna, my wife."

Hermione frowned. "What are you? And what do you want from me?"

"We are Valar," Yavanna spoke softly, soothingly. "Some call us gods but we do not aspire for worship. But we do have… concerns about the world we created and look over."

"Your names are unfamiliar," Hermione admitted.

Yavanna smiled brightly. "I would expect so because we aren't gods of Your dimension."

Chocolate brown eyes widened in understanding. "Oh!" Then she frowned. "I'm sorry, but I still don't understand what I could do for you. I'm not one of yours."

Aule pounced on the last point. "Precisely. You aren't part of the weft and pattern. You are new, different."

"But why me? I'm sorry if I'm being irritating but I want to know. You could ask anyone else who died."

"And if we wanted a good-hearted magical?"

"There are many witches and wizards who fought and died for the Light. Those who are more experienced and powerful. I'm nothing special."

"We need a magical. Only one with a magical core can carry our blessing into the living world. But not any magical is suitable for the task we would be laying on them. We need a soul who is brave and strong, to stand for her convictions and not bow and break, one who feels compassion and understanding for her enemies, who will give everyone second, third, fourth, many chances."

"You're making me nervous now. Just spit it out. What do you want from me?"

"There is a dragon. He has killed hundreds and will continue doing so unless he changes."

Hermione frowned. "A dragon? I don't see what I can do other than killing it. Or perhaps trapping it in a warded zone."

"Dragons are different in Middle Earth. They are sentient, intelligent thinking creatures."

Pink lips formed a soundless 'o' as her imagination raced. "Are they hoarders? Of Knowledge? Treasure? Territory?"

"All of the above though this particular dragon is most focused on gold. He has destroyed two cities, driven the population of one out of their home so he could claim the gold their king had accumulated."

Hermione winced. "Ouch! And you want me to make him change his mind? About killing and stealing gold?"

"We are not saying it will be an easy or fast task to accomplish. It will take years, perhaps even decades."

"I don't see how I can make a dragon change," Hermione admitted.

"Drops of water can erode stone, as long as the flow is constant and unceasing," Aule pointed out.

Hermione considered the words and then shook her head. "But this is a dragon! They live for centuries. How old is this one?"

"Quite old and with centuries ahead of him. He is quite cunning and intelligent but he doesn't have a reason to practice self-restraint."

"And you think I can make him behave? I could not make two boys do their homework."

"Be water, a positive example. Erode away his tendencies for senseless violence."

"He will kill me. Or simply out live me."

"He will not. You will have our blessings for a long, fruitful life."

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't see how I can do it."

"You just have to be yourself. We've watched you for your whole life. You have the strength and purity to counterweigh his destructive tendencies. Teach him to be better than he is." Aule stated firmly.

Hermione set her hands on her hips, elbows pointing out. "And what if I say no? Or fail?"

"You will not be penalized in any manner," Yavanna murmured. "We'll give you five hundred years. If you fail to change him by the end of it you will be free to leave him and live your expected lifetime, hundred years. When you die we will send you onto your previous journey to the afterlife. If you give up before the five hundred years we will send you onto the afterlife."

"I can take breaks and leave right? You can't expect me to be chained to one place or person twenty-four-seven."

"Of course. But you will need to return back to your charge within seven days."

The witch struggled to maintain her stern expression and failed. Her hands slipped down her hips and over her thighs. "Oh why not. I'll give it a shot."

Yavanna smiled broadly. "We look forward to being surprised Hermione Granger."


Smaug the Terrible was pleased. He had a secure lair, an impressive treasure horde, a fearful reputation, vast territory, and there was no one who could stop him from doing as he pleased. And it had only taken destroying a couple of human cities, and driving the dwarfs out of the mountain. And he had so much gold and gems! He shifted and rolled, almost wallowing on the massive piles of gold and silver coins.

"You look like a pig wallowing in mud." The voice was distinctly feminine and tiny.

He moved swiftly, coming up on all four clawed feet. "Show yourself little interloper."

A tiny mortal female stepped out from around a pillar far from the visible entry points. Not elf or dwarf. A female from the Race of Man. But she was… more?

Broad nostrils flared as Smaug moved closer and lowered his head to her level. She was unexpectedly brave, not backing away, nor releasing a fear-scent. She was covered in white stuff above the waist and dark blue below. Brown fur covered her head. He could smell her now, a faint tangy but crisp scent. Some sort of plant food stuff mortals ate.

"What are you little interloper?" He sniffed deeply and then more sharply. "Magical."

She inclined her head and held out her bare hands. "You are correct dragon."

Smaug was slighted. "Smaug," he corrected firmly. "Smaug the Terrible."

"And I am not a little interloper."

Smaug smirked, a dragon smirk. "You are tiny. And you are uninvited, an interloper."

"And so are you. The dwarves never invited you into their home."

He glowered and swung out one clawed forepaw, to make his displeasure clear. He was stunned when the appendage never made contact with the little magical interloper. It hit an invisible shield and bounced off. Smaug had never experienced such a defence. Magic-wielders usually cast energies, manipulated elements to attack and defend. Oh! Somehow she had hardened air itself to act as a shield.

He considered his options and then reared his head back, getting ready to spit fire.

She must have sensed his intentions because she took a step back. "Don't do it," she shouted.

Heated air and flames blew straight out at the interloper. She had not even made an attempt to dodge. Thirty seconds later he stopped blowing flames certain there would be nothing left but ashes and charred bones.

"How rude!"

What? There should be nothing left of her but a smudge! Instead she glared up at him and shook a clenched fist. He could smell sweat-fear but it was rapidly dissipating and being replaced by anger and righteous rage.

He lowered his head to the gold-strewn floor and roared "Get out!" directly in her face.

"I will not! I've been sent by the Valar to make you change and I will!"

Smaug swiped a clawed foreleg at her and it bounced off before even making contact with her. He tried to wrap his claws around her, to get a hold on her and failed. He growled angrily and stalked off towards a particularly large pile of gold. He began burrowing into it.

"Stop it Smaug. You're acting like a child throwing temper tantrums. Pretending I don't exist will not make me go away."

Smaug paused and turned his head to look at her. "You are mortal little magical. You have nothing to eat. You will give up and leave. If you keep returning in a few decades you will die and be of no consequence." He turned away and continued burrowing.

She huffed angrily. "You are wrong Smaug. You cannot drive me away. I will change you."

He snorted. "Impossible."

"Just watch me."


Hermione watched helplessly as the massive red-bronze scaled dragon buried its massive frame under a more massive pile of gold. She wanted to growl and stomp her feet. She wanted to clear out enough gold to reach the dragon's hide and cast a good stinging hex. Or better yet a Reducto. She did neither. She stood there and fumed and gathered her thoughts.

Smaug had tried to kill her and failed. Thanks to Aule and Yavanna's blessings he could not even get a grip on her to carry her out and toss her off the mountain side. So what if he was waiting for her to leave of her own free will. He was going to wait a long time for never to happen! Hermione Granger had promised the Valar she would do her best to reform Smaug and she was going to do just that!

She huffed and stalked out of the treasure room. She needed to find a place to sleep and food to eat. Smaug might have driven the former occupants out but they couldn't have taken all their dried-goods, preserved foods, furniture and clothing. She also needed a kitchen, working bathroom, a bedroom, and a workroom/office. She also needed to find the local library and bone up on her translation charms.

The Valar had given her a general outline of Middle Earth history and culture but Hermione knew one tended to stumble over and stub toes over the little stuff in a foreign land. It would not do to make a major faux pas when she was trying to buy food.