Chapter 1: Many Meetings
Sitting in by the fireside in the Gryffindor common room, three fifth-year Hogwarts students were discussing their options for the evening.
"Let's go to Hogsmeade!" said Ron.
"What, tonight?" asked Hermione.
"Why not? We haven't been allowed to go since You-Know-Who turned up again. I'm getting stir-crazy. Harry's got his Marauder's Map and his Invisibility Cloak. Why not sneak out? A fun Friday night at the pub, what do you say, Harry?"
Harry smiled. He had been feeling a bit restless lately, too. The school year so far had been like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nothing had happened; he was tired of being careful. "Why not!" he said. "Let's go." He swept up his Map and Cloak and the three of them tiptoed down the stairs, feeling most delightfully naughty. They headed for the third-floor corridor, where a statue of a one-eyed witch provided a convenient secret passageway to Hogsmeade.
"Uh-oh," said Harry. On the Marauder's Map he pointed to a little dot, labeled Snape. It was coming from the third floor and moving directly towards them. "Let's go outside, instead, and make for the Whomping Willow entrance to Hogsmeade," said Harry. "I've figured out how to stop those nasty branches from a safe distance. You just hit a certain knot with an Impediment spell." They turned around, slipped out a side door, and walked out onto the Hogwarts grounds.
"Well, master, we're in a fix and no mistake," said Samwise Gamgee. He stood despondently with hunched shoulders beside Frodo Baggins, as they surveyed the jagged hills of Emyn Muil. To the east they could see the mountains of Mordor, hung about with smoke.
It had been three days since they had left the fellowship, and they had still not found a way off of the treacherous slopes. They often retraced their steps because they could find no way forward, or discovered that they had wandered in a circle back to where they had been hours before. Always they found the outer faces sheer, high and impassable. The place was barren, without sign of food or water.
"Fix or no fix," said Frodo, "We cannot stay here all night. We must find a more sheltered spot, and camp once more; perhaps another day will show us a path."
They turned and went down towards a stone hollow, their way made more difficult by the appearance of a grey and unnaturally thick mist that wrapped itself around them. Then suddenly, a strange sensation caught and washed over them. Everything around them seemed to shimmer, collapse, and reform. The mists cleared. The landscape changed. They found themselves standing before a high stone gate, with a castle rising in the distance.
They peered at the gate, confused. They could see lettering on it, but could not make it out in the deep, moonless darkness. "If only we could see what it says," whispered Frodo. "I fear we have come a long way from home."
"What about the Lady's star-glass?" asked Sam. "A light to you in dark places, she said it was."
"Why yes!" said Frodo. "I had forgotten." He held aloft the Phial of Galadriel. It kindled to a silver light; and darkness receded before it. They peered at the lettering on the gate:
"School?" asked Sam, incredulously. "For Wizards? Do you suppose that Gandalf went here?"
"I do not know; but if there are Wizards within, they may be able to help us," said Frodo. As they spoke, the gate slowly creaked open. The Hobbits stepped inside, and walked quickly towards the castle...and then collided heavily with something that wasn't there.
Frodo sprawled headlong and became entangled in some sort of fabric. When he stood, he found himself facing two boys and a girl who had appeared as if by magic. They were as surprised to see him as he was to see them.
The girl, bushy-haired with bright brown eyes, spoke first. "Who are you?" she asked, scoldingly. "Are you first-years? You're not supposed to be out on the grounds at night."
"Well, technically, neither are we," said one of the boys, laughing as he ran a hand through his bright red hair.
Frodo bowed low. "I am Frodo, son of Drogo. This is my faithful servant, Samwise Gamgee. We are Hobbits of the Shire. We are weary travelers bearing a great Burden. We seek the assistance of..." Frodo stopped. He heard a hissing noise and the sound of flapping feet.
"Gollum!" Frodo cried.
"No, Snape!" said the other boy, peering at a piece of parchment through round, black glasses. "Under the Invisibility Cloak, now!" The children grabbed Frodo and Sam, and they all huddled together under the Cloak.
A tall man in black robes had just opened the front door of Hogwarts castle and stepped outside. He first peered into the darkness; then stood still, apparently listening. After a few moments, he went back inside.
"That was close," sighed the boy holding the parchment. He bent down to the Hobbits. "I'm Harry; this is Hermione and Ron."
"What's a Hobbit?" asked Ron.
"I remember reading a very old book about Hobbits," said Hermione. "The name Frodo sounds familiar..."
Just then the door opened again. Severus Snape had returned; this time he was accompanied by a very old man with a long, grey beard.
Frodo could not believe his eyes. Forgetting himself, he threw off the Invisibility Cloak and cried, "Gandalf! Gandalf! You're alive!" Frodo ran up the stairs and flung his arms about the old man's waist. Sam came running after.
The old man looked down, his blue eyes twinkling in bemused astonishment. "Gandalf? I have not been called Gandalf in a very long time." He stooped down to look more closely at Frodo. "You are not a student here. Who are..."
"He says he's Frodo son of Drogo. A hobbit of the Shire," Hermione interrupted helpfully. "I remember reading about hobbits in a very old, Red Book called 'The Downfall of the Lord..."
"Frodo son of Drogo? Frodo Baggins?" asked the old man in wonder. "But Frodo Baggins passed into the twilight many years ago..."
"Twilight?" asked Frodo, uncomprehending. "Boromir was corrupted by the Ring and tried to take it from me. Sam and I split from the company and made our way to Emyn Muil. But we could not find a way down. We were overtaken by a foul mist. Then the mists cleared, and we found ourselves here. We are weary, and my burden is heavy.
"Burden?" asked the old man.
"The Ring." Frodo drew the Ring out on its chain. Immediately Harry felt his scar begin to burn, an excruciating, searing pain.
Snape gasped and stepped backwards, his black eyes darting from the Ring to its bearer. "Frodo Baggins. The Frodo Baggins. Back from the mists of time and legend. With his Quest...incomplete?"
"Frodo. Dear, dear Frodo," said the old man. "To see you again, after so many thousands of years, should be an occasion of great joy. Alas, I greatly fear that you and the Ring have been brought here to evil purpose." He sighed. "Frodo, Sam and Harry, come with me. Professor Snape, please escort Hermione and Ron back to the Gryffindor portrait-hole."
The old man swept Harry, Frodo, and Sam into his office, shut the door and sat down. Sam, able to restrain himself no longer, blurted, "Here, Gandalf, what is going on? What did you mean by 'thousands of years' since you saw Mr. Frodo? It's only been a month or so since Moria. How did you escape, anyway?"
The old man replied, "Dear Sam. Dear, dear Frodo. Such a happy, unlooked-for meeting. I had never hoped to meet Hobbits of the Shire again. Indeed, I had quite forgotten about the inquisitiveness of Hobbits!"
"You have stepped out of one Age of the Earth into another. The Third Age of Middle Earth ended with the defeat of Sauron and the wedding of Arwen Undomiel and King Elessar, who you knew as Aragorn of Arathorn."
"Strider!" cried Sam.
"The very one." The old man continued. "The return of the King gave new hope and strength to the Men of Gondor. But his marriage to Queen Arwen had results that no one predicted. Though she had renounced her heritage and become mortal, some of her lineage retained the ability to perform Elven magic. This ability did not wane through the generations, and even became stronger. Thus a new race was born: mortals capable of doing powerful magic.
"Although I had sailed over the seas to Elvenhome at the end of the Third Age, never hoping to see Middle Earth again, it became apparent to the Valar that someone would need to train and guide these powerful mortals, lest they destroy Middle Earth. And so I returned. This is a training school, and I am its headmaster: I am now known as Albus Dumbledore.
"Alas, the destruction of Sauron was not the end of evil on the earth. A dark sorcerer, calling himself Lord Voldemort arose, and he wrought great evil upon the earth. He was nearly killed fourteen years ago, and lived on only as a disembodied spirit. But a few months ago he was able to regain a body, and now is rebuilding his power. I fear that your being here, bearing the Ring, is more than just a happy coincidence."
"But if Sauron is defeated, how would the Ring help Voldemort?" asked Frodo.
"I do not fully know," replied Dumbledore, his expression troubled. "But I suspect that as long as the Ring remains in existence, the power of Sauron lives on. Thus it is still a force of great corruption and evil."
"It seems our course is as clear now as it was, as you say, thousands of years ago," said Frodo quietly. "I must continue my journey to Mt. Doom and destroy the Ring."
"Mount Doom?" said Dumbledore. "The volcano of Orodruin went dormant a thousand years ago. There is no Crack of Doom, there are no fires to destroy the Ring."
Frodo and Sam exchanged glances, stunned.
"It may be," said Dumbledore, "That the Ring can be destroyed by other means. I shall call a Wizard's council to decide this question. Until then, I believe that you should remain here at Hogwarts. Lord Voldemort may be looking for the Ring and for you, Frodo. Hogwarts is the safest place for you now.
"As for the Ring itself; it was made long before the days of mortal magic. I wonder." Dumbledore broke off and looked at Harry. "Harry, perform a Summoning Spell on the Ring."
Harry lifted his wand and said, "Accio Ring." The Ring flew off the chain around Frodo's neck, and into Harry's hand. Harry's scar, which had been aching ever since he first saw the Ring, exploded into unbearable pain. Harry dropped the Ring, and collapsed to the floor with his head in his hands.
Frodo retrieved the Ring as Sam helped Harry back to his seat. Dumbledore shook his head. "The youngest student at Hogwarts could take the Ring from you, Frodo. The Ring will also be a fascination and temptation to our most powerful professors."
"Snape," thought Harry, darkly.
"This may help, at least temporarily." Dumbledore reached into his desk, and pulled out a simple, silver locket. He opened it and said, "Put the Ring inside, Frodo." Dumbledore then tapped the locket with his wand and muttered a long incantation. Sam shifted uneasily in his chair. Dumbledore then handed the locket back to Frodo.
Taking the locket, Frodo was astonished. "Is the Ring really in there? It feels so...so light."
"Yes, it is there," replied Dumbledore. "You have long grown accustomed to its evil weight. The locket itself will shield you and others somewhat from its influence, at least for a time. The locket cannot be stolen by magical means. And only a Hobbit can open it, and then only voluntarily, not under the influence of a controlling spell.
"And now, what to do with you, Frodo and Sam? Where in Hogwarts shall we keep you? I think the student houses are best; they are well-guarded." Dumbledore smiled, reached behind his desk, and picked up the Sorting Hat. He had merely begun to turn back towards Frodo and Sam when the Hat sang out "Gryffindor!" As Dumbledore replaced the Hat it added, testily, "As if you even needed to ask."
"Gryffindor it is!" laughed Dumbledore. He looked back and forth between Harry and Frodo. "Stick close to Harry, Frodo," he said. "Harry has long been a target of Lord Voldemort, and has defended himself ably on a number of occasions. And, judging from what we saw earlier, he would be the last person to take the ring." Harry rubbed his forehead at the thought.
Dumbledore stood and bade them all good night. As they passed out into the hall, Harry thought he heard Dumbledore's voice saying softly, "Yes, Fawkes. Yes, Fawkes, I know. But not now. Perhaps never."
Harry looked down at Frodo and Sam as he lead them towards Gryffindor tower. "Keep close to me," thought Harry. "That's what Dumbledore said. Does he expect me to protect them somehow? From Voldemort? Me? I can barely protect myself." Harry thought sadly about Cedric Diggory. "I didn't do a very good job of protecting him, did I."
They met a young red-haired girl on the stairs. "Frodo and Sam, this is Ginny Weasley, also of Gryffindor," said Harry. "Hullo, Ginny," said Frodo. Ginny gazed into his enormous blue eyes for a moment, and then did something very odd, Frodo thought. She went beet-red and started giggling uncontrollably.
"Password," the Fat Lady said.
"Nincompoop!" squeaked Ginny, and she darted through the portrait-hole into the Gryffindor common room.
"What was that?" Sam exclaimed.
"Oh, Ginny," sighed Harry. "She's like that sometimes."
"No, no, I mean the painting. It talked!"
"Oh, the painting." Harry smiled. "That's how they are at Hogwarts. This one guards the entrance to Gryffindor tower. Don't forget the password, or she'll never let you in."
They stepped into the common room, and sat down near the fire by Ron and Hermione. "What did Dumbledore say?" asked Ron.
Carefully, Harry replied, "He said that these, er, hobbits were in danger from Volde--You Know Who. That we should, we should all--stick together, look out for one another."
"What about the Ring?" asked Hermione.
"It's safe," said Frodo quickly.
"Harry?" Harry turned. A first-year girl that he knew slightly was standing next to him, beaming. Harry was willing to humor her, as he was by this time used to a certain amount of celebrity and hero-worship.
"Yes," he said, kindly.
"Who's your friend?" she said, coyly tilting her head. Harry realized the girl wasn't beaming at him, but at Frodo. In fact, behind her was a small group of first- and second-year girls, all looking shyly at Frodo and glancing away. They twittered quietly amongst themselves: "Look at those eyes", "Isn't he dreamy", "I'm in love."
Frodo rose and said, "I am Frodo, son of Drogo, a hobbit of the Shire. At your service, fair maidens." He bowed low. This show of gallantry was met with giggles and peals of delight.
"What's a Hobbit?" asked a girl.
"Well," started Frodo, "we have been called haflings, holbytla..."
"Will you go with me to the Yule Ball?" asked another girl. "It's only three months away."
Frodo stared at her. He had no response to that.