"Frodo!" Bilbo called up the stairs of his modest-sized flat. "Frodo, breakfast! Time to come down!"

When the elder Baggins received no response, he sighed.

"Frodo Baggins, if I have to march up that staircase one more time-!"

From upstairs, he heard a door swing open.

""M coming!" The six-year-old called as he bounced down the stairs, his grey blazer only halfway on and his blue-and-yellow-striped tie messily knotted around his unbuttoned collar. His socks were uneven, not to mention the fact that they were mismatched. His hair, as usual, was a curly mess.

Bilbo frowned, staring as his nephew ran into the kitchen.

"Did you just wake up?"

"Uh, no! No, I've-!" Frodo yawned as he grabbed a bit of the toast Bilbo had prepared. "I've been up for hours."

His uncle rolled his eyes, grabbing him gently by the collar of his shirt to stop him.

"Alright, alright, let's just hold on for a moment! It's your first day back at school, you at least need to look presentable."

Frodo rolled his eyes and groaned in irritation as Bilbo straightened his collar.

"Uncle Biiilllbbooooo," he whined. "We're going to be late!"

"No, we're not! You don't need to be there for another half an hour."

Frodo stared at him for a moment before throwing his hands up in frustration.

"Well then what did you wake me up for?!"

"You have your books?"

"Yes."

"Your lunch."

"Yes."

"Your pencils?"

"Yes, Uncle Bilbo!"

The elder Baggins chuckled as they stepped off the bus at the stop nearest to Frodo's school.

"Alright, just checking!"

Frodo scoffed, but sure enough Bilbo soon felt a smaller hand slip into his. He smiled, gently holding his nephew's hand as they moved into the crowd of schoolchildren and parents, watching as they passed the sign for Rivendell Academy and walked towards the entrance.

Even though Frodo was putting on an indifferent act, Bilbo could tell that he was nervous. Honestly, the man couldn't blame him, with everything that had happened at the end of the last term.

"Ah, young Mr. Baggins, good morning!"

"Oh!" Frodo yelled, suddenly dragging Bilbo over to a young, dark-haired woman. "Good morning, Mrs. Elessar!"

The woman smiled, kneeling down to the six-year-old's eye level.

"It's good to see you again, Frodo! I missed having you in my class at the end of the last term!"

The boy's face lit up. "Will you be my teacher this year as well?!"

"No, I'm afraid that I only teach the first years." Mrs. Elessar said sadly.

Frodo seemed to deflate a bit at this news. "Oh."

"But, on the bright side, I know for a fact that you'll be in Mr. Grey's class!"

The younger Baggins' eyes widened. "The science man?! The one who does a mini-fireworks display at the end of the first term?!"

"The very one!"

"... I think I might like to meet this teacher of yours, Frodo."

Mrs. Elessar laughed. "Oh, don't worry, Mr. Baggins, Gandalf is nothing if not careful with his pyrotechnics!"

She stood, smoothing out her skirt and then offering her hand to Bilbo.

"Arwen Elessar."

"Ah, Bilbo Baggins!" He replied, shaking the teacher's hand.

"Yes, I know. It's not everyday that we get a world-famous novelist in our humble little school!"

"O-Oh, I wouldn't say world-famous-!"

"No need to be humble, Mr. Baggins! And besides, with the way this one would brag about his Uncle Bilbo, you'd think you were J.K. Rowling!"

Bilbo paused, grinning as he looked down at his nephew, who seemed to have suddenly developed a fascination with the dirt by his shoes.

"Oh, really?" Bilbo said with a chuckle. "Well, try not to brag on me too much, alright? Wouldn't want Mr. Grey and your classmates to get the wrong idea."

He ruffled his nephew's hair, and a soft chuckle came out of the boy. Bilbo smiled.

"Alright, then, Frodo. I have to get going, so-!"

Frodo suddenly grabbed Bilbo around the waist, hugging him tightly.

"Oh!" Bilbo exclaimed in surprise as his nephew clutched at the back of his jumper. Frodo's head rested on his belly, and for a moment the boy was entirely silent, simply holding on to the elder Baggins, as if he were afraid that he would disappear if he let go.

"... Frodo," Bilbo said gently after a moment. "Frodo, I have to go to the store, and you have to go to school. Besides, you were the one who said we ran out of milk, and-!"

"Promise you'll come back?"

Bilbo froze when he heard his nephew's muffled voice, realizing what Frodo was worried about. He sighed, pushing him away and kneeling down. He smiled warmly at his nephew, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders.

"I swear, on my honor as a Baggins, that I will be right here when school lets out, waiting for you. Alright?"

After a moment, the six-year-old nodded, moving in to hug his uncle one last time.

"I love you, Uncle Bilbo."

Bilbo smiled, pressing a quick kiss into his nephew's dark curly hair. "I love you too, Frodo."

"I bet that I love you more!" Frodo boasted as he pulled back.

Bilbo laughed, flicking his nephew's nose. "Is that right?"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah? Well, I bet that I love you most!"

The boy giggled. "I bet that I love you to the moon and back!"

"And I bet that I love you to Jupiter and back!"

"I bet that I-!"

"Frodo!" A familiar voice called, making Frodo stop talking and swerve his head over.

"Sam!" He cried happily, starting to run over to his friend, but pausing for a moment. He looked back at his uncle, his eyes large and pleading.

"Can I-?"

Bilbo rolled his eyes, gesturing towards Samwise Gamgee, who was looking back at his mother, probably asking the same question. "Go ahead."

Frodo grinned. "Okay love you bye!" He said quickly, dashing towards his friend, who was doing the same.

"SAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMM!"

"FROOOOODOOOOOOOO!"

There was a great thud as the two collided in a hug, Frodo ending up on top of Sam as they fell to the ground in a fit of giggles.

"You'd think they hadn't seen each other in months, instead of just a day or two."

Arwen laughed, watching the two boys chattering excitedly. "Well, they are rather inseperable. Last year I had gotten so used to saying 'Frodo and Sam' that I had to remind myself to only say 'Sam' at the end of the term."

Bilbo chuckled. "They do seem to be one single entity sometimes."

Arwen hesitated for a moment. "I... I was sorry to hear about Frodo's parents."

The writer said nothing for a moment. "Yeah, it... It was a very hard time for all of us. Still is, sometimes."

And it was, especially for Frodo. There were still nights when the boy would wake up crying, asking Bilbo to go get his mother. Every time, Bilbo's heart would break when he told him that he couldn't, and he'd remember that his parents were gone.

"I think it's wonderful that you've taken him in like this."

"Oh, well, Drogo and I were always close. Hadn't imagined that they were serious when they said they wanted to have me look after Frodo if something were to happen, but it's all well and good, I suppose."

In his defense, Frodo was a colicky baby, the two of them were very sleep deprived, and he was the first person to get Frodo to sleep in two days when they said it.

Arwen chuckled, looking over and seeing the clock. "I suppose so! Well, it was lovely to meet you, Mr. Baggins!"

"You too, Mrs. Elessar!" Bilbo called as they parted, heading towards the gates while she headed for the front door. Suddenly, something ran into his legs, halting him in his tracks.

"Sorry, Mister!" A young voice with a distinctly northern accent apologized.

Bilbo looked down, examining the small child who had run into him. He looked to be around the same age as Frodo, perhaps a bit older, and had shaggy blond hair that could use a cut. His blazer was a bit wrinkled, and his pants appeared to be just a bit too short for him.

"Ah, it's quite alright, my boy. Try not to run into anyone else, yeah-?"

"Fili!" A woman with the same sort of accent as the boy yelled, running through the crowd. She had dark hair pulled into a messy bun, with only the barest traces of eye makeup on, wearing a simple white shirt and jeans. She was pushing a buggy along, where a brunet baby boy who couldn't be more than a year old was gurgling happily in a pair of overalls.

"Mum-!"

"Fili Durinson, do not run around in a crowd like this! You could get hurt!"

"But Mum, I-!"

"No buts, mister!"

The boy rolled his eyes. "I bet Uncle Frerin would let me run around if I wanted to!"

"Yeah, and I'd smack him silly fer lettin' ya!"

For the first time, the woman looked up, and Bilbo saw the dark circles under her eyes and the premature streaks of grey in her hair.

"I'm so sorry about this, sir!" She glared at her son. "Fili, say you're sorry!"

"I did!"

"Well say it again!"

Fili grimaced. "Kili never has to say he's sorry twice!"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Fili, your brother is barely a year old, the only things he can say are 'mama', 'no', and 'kitty'!"

The baby in the buggy suddenly sat up. "Kitty?" He asked, looking around as if searching for something.

"No, baby love, there aren't any kitties 'round here."

"Really, ma'am, it's fine." Bilbo quickly said when there was a pause in the bickering. "I don't mind at all, Mrs...?"

"Durinson!" She quickly replied, walking around the buggy and extending her hand. "Dis... Durinson..." She trailed off, her eyes going wide when Bilbo took her hand and shook it.

"Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Durinson. I'm-!"

"You're Bilbo Baggins!" She interrupted, her eyes shining with glee. "I knew I recognized ya from somewhere! Oh, and it's just Ms. Durinson, dear, but I'd prefer it if ya just called me Dis."

Bilbo smiled patiently. "Alright then, Dis. Are you a fan, then?"

"Ah, well, yeah, but it's really my brother who's the big fan!"

"The, uh, one who apparently would let your son run wild?"

"Hm? Oh! No, no, not Frerin, my other brother, Thorin!"

"Ah," Bilbo replied, imagining a college-aged guy, seeing as that was who his books seemed to appeal to most.

Fili groaned, tugging at his mother's sleeve.

"Muuuuuuuuuuummm," he whined. "Come on! I'm gonna be late!"

Dis rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist!" She smiled at Bilbo warmly. "It was very nice to meet ya, Mr. Baggins."

"And you as well, Dis. And please, feel free to call me Bilbo!"

The woman smiled brightly once more before turning and yelling at Fili to stop running.

"He's late."

Frodo rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time that morning. "Yes, thank you, Merry, for telling us what we already knew."

Next to his cousin, Pippin giggled, which earned him a smack upside the head.

"Ow!"

"Shut up, Pippin."

"You shut up!"

"No, you shut up!"

"GUYS!" Sam finally shouted, turning in his seat to glare at them. "Why don't both of you shut up? The teacher could be here any minute, and you don't want him to see you fighting the first time he meets you, do you?"

"Oh, please, Gamgee! He's not gonna show!"

"Yeah!" Pippin added. "My sister Pearl said that he didn't show up to the first day of class when she had him!"

"She also told you that if you ate a watermelon seed, one would grow in your stomach and burst out of your gut." Frodo reminded him.

Pippin narrowed his eyes. "Are you calling my sister a liar?"

Before Frodo could answer, the door to the classroom swung open, a tall, older man with a cardboard box in his arms walking through the door.

"Good morning, sir!" Frodo greeted as the class settled.

The old man paused, placing his box on the desk and staring right at Frodo.

"What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I wish it to be or not? Or perhaps you are stating that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply saying that it is a morning to be good on?"

It felt like every eye in the classroom was on Frodo. He swallowed hard, shrinking into his desk as he felt his ears turn red.

"I... I, um... All of them at once, I suppose."

The man stared at him for another moment. "Hmm." He murmured simply before turning to the blackboard and picking up the chalk, seemingly deaf to the children chatting and giggling behind him and Frodo's humiliation.

The chalk made small squeaks and groans as the teacher wrote the words Gandalf Grey on the board.

"Now, since I assume that the majority of you are decently literate, I don't suppose I need to tell you my name." At the class' silence, he moved on. "However, since I don't know your names yet, I shall have you tell me your name, your day of birth- your birthday, as it is more commonly refered to, put down your hands- and one interesting fact about yourself. We shall start with... Oh, how about our young greeter here?"

Frodo smiled. This should be easy enough, he thought as he stood up.

"My name is Frodo Baggins, my birthday is the fourteenth of September, and my Uncle Bilbo is a famous writer!"

The boy beamed as his classmates around started talking excitedly.

"Yes, I figured as much. However, Mr. Baggins, I'm afraid that, while it is indeed an interesting fact, it is not, in fact, about you."

Frodo's face dropped. "What? What do you mean?"

"Just what I said, Mr. Baggins. You are not the writer, your uncle is. So I'm afraid that I'll have to ask that you say something else."

The boy swallowed, racking his brain for something, anything interesting about himself.

"I... I, um..."

His mind was blank. What was interesting about Frodo Baggins? He liked sweets? He could count to fifty? He-

"Mr. Baggins?" Mr. Grey interrupted. "If you cannot think of anything at this moment, we can always come back to you-!"

"I'm an orphan."

The class was silent for a tense moment.

"Come again?" Mr. Grey asked, seeming to think he hadn't heard right.

Frodo took a deep breath. "I'm... I'm an orphan. That's what my cousin Lobelia Sackville-Baggins said, and when I asked Uncle Bilbo what it meant, he told me that an orphan is someone who hasn't got a mum or dad. And..." He hesitated. "And, well, I don't. So... So there. That's... That's something interesting about me."

With that, Frodo sat down, the room uncomfortably still. He could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck, still feeling every pair of eyes in the room on him.

"... I see. My condolences, then."

"Thank you," Frodo answered, though he wasn't quite sure what, exactly, condolences were.

"Thank you for sharing. Now then, how about you, Mister, ah-?"

"Gamgee!" Sam answered cheerfully, nearly bumping his knee on his desk when he stood up. "Samwise Gamgee! My birthday is the sixth of April, and I've grown my own tomatoes before!"

"I see!" Mr. Grey said with a chuckle. "Well, then, I believe that gives you a distinct advantage later in the term, Mr. Gamgee."

Sam grinned as he sat down, Rosie Cotton standing up next to him. However, before she could start talking, the door to the classroom swung open, revealing Headmaster Undomiel at the door.

Frodo's heart stopped for a moment, a panic rising up in him. The last time he had seen the headmaster, he had come to pull him out of class and take him to his Uncle Bilbo, who had pulled him out of class because his parents had... had had their accident.

Something happened to Uncle Bilbo, he thought. The headmaster was here to get him again, because there had been an accident and now his uncle-!

"Ah, Elrond," Mr. Grey stated warmly, interrupting Frodo's train of thought once again. "What can I do for you?"

Headmaster Undomiel smiled, and suddenly a boy about Frodo's age stepped out from beside the tall man.

"Sorry to intrude on your class, Gandalf, but you've got one more student." He gestured to the blond-haired boy. "This is-!"

"Ah-ah! I'm sorry, Elrond, but I'll have to ask that you not tell me his name, as I'm having my students tell me them."

The headmaster rolled his eyes, but smiled. "Very well, then." He nodded. "I'll not take up any more of your time. Good morning."

"Yes, yes it is."

Once Headmaster Undomiel had gone, Mr. Grey looked over at the new student.

"Alright then, my boy. You can take the seat next to Mr. Baggins, if it pleases you."

The blond boy stared out at the crowd.

"Uh, Mr. Gandalf?" He said after a minute, the thick northern accent surprising the class. "I've got no idea who this 'Mr. Boggins' boy is."

"Oh, of course. Ah, Mr. Baggins, could you please raise your hand so that our friend here might find his seat?"

Warily, Frodo raised his hand, the boy giving him an oddly friendly grin as he walked over and sat down in the desk next to him.

"Thank you. Now then, young miss, please, introduce yourself."

As Rosie started talking about how she once helped her cat deliver a litter of kittens, the boy next to Frodo poked him in the shoulder.

"Psst!" He hissed, trying to get his neighbor's attention.

After a moment of prodding, Frodo finally gave in, turning and looking at the other boy.

"What?"

He grinned, holding his hand out.

"Fili Durinson, at your service!"

Hesitantly, the Baggins boy shook his hand.

"Uh... Frodo Baggins, at yours."

Fili grinned at him wider before turning back to face front in his seat, loosening the knot of his tie.

A few moments later, everyone but Fili had spoken. The northern boy stood up, leaning forward onto his desk.

"My name is Fili Durinson, my birthday is the twelfth of July, and I've seen a dragon before!"

The room was silent for a moment before anyone spoke.

"No you haven't!" A boy that Frodo didn't recognize said.

"Have so! His name is Smaug!"

"Nuh-uh! There's no such thing as dragons!"

"That's enough, Mr. Banks!" Mr. Grey called.

"But, Mr. Grey! He's a liar! No one's ever seen a real dragon in person!"

"Mr. Banks, do you believe that there are other planets?"

The boy blinked. "What? Of course I do!"

"Then am I to assume that you have, in fact, been to the planet Jupiter?"

"Well, no, of course not-!"

"Well, then we are led to a bit of a conundrum- that is, a bit of a problem- aren't we? Because by your logic, you either have seen the planet Jupiter and believe in other planets, or have not seen it and do not believe in other planets."

"W-Well- I- There are pictures of Jupiter!"

"Am I to assume you've never looked at a storybook, then? You'd find plenty of pictures of dragons in there!"

By now, the whole class was starting to whisper.

"Those are drawings!"

"The accepted looks for many faraway planets are simply drawings. In fact, many of the things we associate with what we cannot see with the naked eye are simply artistic renderings."

Banks was spluttering now, his face bright red. "I- You- Mr. Grey, you're a scientist! Surely you can't believe that such things exist!"

"Ah, but it is because I am a scientist that I can believe in what I have not seen with my own eyes. For example, I have never seen an underwater volcano explode, yet the existence of the Hawaiian islands tells me that it must be so." There was a twinkle in his eye, and Frodo couldn't help but grin. "Just because you have never seen something with your own eyes does not mean that it does not exist."

"But-!"

"Mr. Banks," Mr. Grey warned, "if you insist on continuing this conversation, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to see me after class."

Banks fell silent, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"That's what I thought."

Fili grinned at Frodo. "I really did see one!"

"... Alright." Frodo said evenly, wondering why he had to be sat next to the loony Scotsman.

Scots-boy.

Whatever.