Disclaimer: I do not, and never will own the characters of Harry Potter, or Lord of the Rings, I only get a day pass to use them, no money is being made on this, yada yada yada.

A note on this; I have checked birthdates of all, and, though I don't have the exact dates on all, I just guessed. Otherwise they are as accurate as you could find, enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE

''Moine, do you really think this is such a good idea? I mean there seem to be a lot of ifs in here.' Harry Potter questioned his friend, Hermoine Granger, looking over her shoulder as she carefully read over a spell in a old worn leather bound book, so cliché of the books that frequented Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

'Harry,' She said with a sigh, her tone that of one talking to a three year old. 'This is a fairly simple spell, almost foolproof, and besides, it could possibly be the least dangerous spell we have ever tried.' Harry smiled, remembering the whiskers and fur that had covered her face in second year.

'Speaking of which, you look a little thirsty, would you like a dish of milk?' She gave him a deadly glare.

'There are other spells in here Potter, which could cause you serious damage.' He gave her his most innocent smiled.

It took a few minutes, but finally Hermoine was sure she completely understood what she was supposed to do. She lifted her wand slowly, quietly murmuring the long aged spell, brows knitted in concentration, when the door burst open, and a red headed boy known as Ron Weasley hurried in.

'You two have been holding out on me!' He cried. 'Why didn't you two tell me about this muggle book, with the Fellowship of the Ring n' all?' He cried, holding up a copy of The Lord of the Rings.

'The Fellowship?' Hermoine asked, before she turned back to the spell. 'Oh no, oh no no no no no no!' She moaned. Harry whirled about, what could have gone wrong?

As far as he could tell nothing was. Hermoine stood, looking maybe slightly paler from shock, but other wise quite fine. They both hurried to her side.

''Moine, what is it?' Harry whispered, shaking her arms lightly. She slowly turned, until she faced Ron.

'YOU MORON!' She bellowed, her hands at her sides in tight fists. 'Why in Merlin's name did you come in here blathering on? I was in the middle of a spell- and you come in here going on and I mention the bloody fellowship! Who knows what that could do? Harry, gimme the book.' Harry obediently rushed towards it, lifting it, open to the page, and handed it to her. And she read.

'So...what were you trying to do?' Ron whispered to Harry as she scanned through the pages, her eyes narrowing at some points, at others she shuddered.

'Well, we were trying to see what we would all look like at 40, about five days after each of our birth dates.' Harry glanced back at Hermoine as she swore. 'Should we go into hiding at the Shrieking Shack?' He queried, she didn't smile.

'We are in definite trouble.' She said quietly. Both boys waited for her to continue. 'When Ron came rushing in, I sort of mixed up two words, and then said the fellowship in place of our names...in short we might have a bunch of creepy men and other creatures running about the place.' Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable.

'I know I should know this, but, the fellowship?' He muttered, glancing between them. Ron held up the book in his hands, a rather thick paperback with THE LORD OF THE RINGS printed on the front, underneath and behind the letters was scenery, trees, bushes, and many of what might have been houses, he pushed up his glasses looking closer. 'Who are the little guys at the bottom with the, is that a horse?' Ron grinned.

That would be the fellowship with ol' Bill the pony, did you really never read this? Living around muggles, I would think you would have at least heard of it.' In response, he shrugged. Ron sighed, in unison Hermoine.

'You two are becoming entirely too much alike.' He mumbled, glancing back at the book. 'Who wrote-' Ron flipped it over and in somewhat smaller writing read J.R.R. TOLKIEN.'Oh.' He said, not sure what else to say.

Ron looked around, an excited spark in his eye. 'So, where are they? Where will they appear?' Now it was Hermoine who looked uncomfortable.

'Oh, um, well for this, I don't, well know.' She gave a weak smile. The boys glanced at one another, then back at Hermoine. 'Harry...the map?' He nodded, they snatched up their things and sprinted almost all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.

'S-sticklebats.' Harry breathed to the Fat Lady. The painting swung open, and they nearly jumped through the opening in their haste. Harry led them up the stairs and into the dormitory, to his bed, where he thrust back the lid of his trunk, shoving stuff one way and the other.

It took almost five minutes, but finally he pulled it out. 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.' He muttered, tapping the parchment, watching as the map slowly appeared. Three pairs of eyes scanned the page, three pairs all stopped at the same time, staring at a bundle of names. Names like Legolas, Pippin, Boromir, and Olorin. All the names situated right in the middle of the Headmaster's office.

The pairs met, and in unison their owner's voices rose together.

'Shit.'

'Owww...' Muttered a young looking hobbit by the name of Frodo Baggins.

'Likewise, Mr. Frodo, Mr. Frodo?' Sam wise Gamgee, another hobbit with sandy-haired stared wide eyed.

'Sam, what are you going on- well bless me! Frodo! You are here.' And with that the two hobbits took Frodo into a bone crushing hug.

'Oh stop!' He laughed. 'Of course I'm here, though, I must say, I do not know where here is.' There was suddenly some noise from underneath them, curses, and someone, a deep baritone swearing all hobbits to a very grizzly demise if they did not get off now.

The three rolled off what they now realized to be a living heap, the rest unfolding from the pile grumbling as they did so, and very suddenly a small sniffle rose above it all.

'Where, where's father?' Came a tiny voice, as high as a blue jays whistle, all there praying that it would not start to cry.

Frodo walked towards the noise, to see a small thin child, clad all in green with long pale blonde hair, kneeling, well actually just bending ever so slightly to look at him. 'Now now, what seems to be the trouble child?' He whispered.

'If I didn't know him better, I would say it was one of Legolas'.' Came an amused voice, that of Meriadoc Brandybuck. Pippin looked extremely perplexed.

'Ah, Merry, aren't you supposed to be in the South Farthing on business?' He asked, earning a blank look.

'Er, no...not today at any rate.' He chuckled, messing the 'younger' hobbits hair. There was a slightly annoyed sniff behind them, they glanced back as Frodo quietly tried to quiet the child, and took in four others they had missed, and one of them-

'BOROMIR?' They all cried together, gaping at the obviously quite alive man.

'But, you died!' Sam choked.

'Yeah me n' Pip watched you!' Merry blurted, and then paled. 'Oh Valor, please, please don't be a wraith come to exact revenge!' Pippin hid behind him, and Sam stood rather awkwardly beside them.

'A what? Why would you think I was a- why the devil would I be dead?' He looked at the three. 'Er, where did our camp go? And Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and Gandalf for that matter?'

'Someone mention my name?' A gruff voice piped up, a dwarf, with a very short beard (for a dwarf mind you.) and shoulder length hair, Gimli.

'And mine?' A young man queried, looking to still be a teenager, Aragorn.

'M-my name is Legolas.' Whispered the child. That still left one unaccounted for.

'Who're you?' Asked Sam, forgetting his fears of the seemingly undead Boromir. He received a sneer.

Before them, the stranger stood, with long black hair, a pale, sharp face, and cold blue eyes. 'If you all must know, I am called Olorin.' He sniffed glancing about him.

The small elfling Legolas suddenly brightened. ''Lorin? Oh that's Gandalf's old name! Father explained t'me how he changed it when he came over the sea.' His eyes shone, staring up at him. Olorin made a noise.

'Children.' He grumbled, glancing at the hobbits too as he said this. They glared.

'We are no children! We are all hobbits and well out of our tweens, I myself am 40, Merry's 48, Sam a year younger, and Frodo is getting to be all too old.' He teased the 'elder' hobbit.

Merry gave him a pitying smile. 'Er, Pip? You are only 32, still in your tweens, I'm 40 though.'

Sam sighed shaking his head. 'The both of you are wrong. I'm 40, he's 41, and you are just out of your tweens, for proof, my Rosie and I have two little ones, and a third on the way.' He said with a smug look.

At this, the three started to argue loudly. Frodo frowned

'Stop!' He called over them, they instantly fell silent. 'Now, I would like to ask you all a question, separately.'

They nodded.

'Sam, how old do you think you are?'

'40.'

'And Merry, what about you?'

'40 of course.'

'Do I even bother asking Pippin?'

'You heard me the first time.'

'Alright, um how about you, Legolas right?'

'I'm 40.' He said absently, staring at the small toy bow in his hands.

'Umm, oh dear, I seem to have forgotten your name, Ara-drat.'

He chuckled 'Just call me Strider, and I am also 40.'

'Ages better'n Bilbo and Frodo.' Grinned Pippin.

'And you three?' Frodo asked, giving up on names for now.

'40.' They said in unison.

They stared at one another.

'I won't even bother to answer that question, now we have to figure out, what the devil is going on.'

They stood, or sat in complete silence for a few minutes, only broken when a voice came from behind them.

'I don't mean to be rude, but who are all of you, well I know that, well then, I will settle on what in Merlin's name are you doing in my office?'

TBC

Thanks to my two big betas, Bunny and Ricky, useless pests that they are...