"Not the man who used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve. Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening."
The festival was going beautifully. Gandalf had already managed to pilfer some Longbottom Leaf and was happily smoking it under the shade of a large tree when a tug came on the bottom of his robes.
He looked down and espied a Hobbit-child. The top of the boy's curly head barely reached Gandalf's knee, but he was staring at the wizard with all the self-importance of a mighty king.
" 'Scuse me, sir, but are you Mr. Gandalf, the one who makes the fireworks?" asked the boy, crossing his arms skeptically.
"Indeed I am, my good lad. " Gandalf answered, hiding a smile. The child sent him a look that was as respectfully scornful as possible.
"How did you put the pictures in your rockets, sir?" he inquired. "My cousin Dora says that you got fairies trapped in there and that they make those pictures when they come out. So you wont try to catch them again, you know?"
Gandalf's eyebrows rose and he let out a loud guffaw. "Fairies! Certainly not, my dear boy. I would know if I had fairies living in my rockets; that's for sure!"
"Then how do the rockets turn into pictures?" asked the little Hobbit, looking a little crushed.
"Do you really think that a wizard will reveal all of his secrets in one night?" Gandalf asked with a mock scowl.
The child shuffled his feet. "No sir…" he mumbled.
Gandalf made a show of looking around before leaning in and whispering conspiratorially, "If you promise not to share my secrets with anyone else, I will tell you little bits and pieces every time I come to visit. And one day, when you are as old as I am, maybe you will be able to shoot pictures into the sky as well as I can. Tell me your name now so I will know to whom I have entrusted this task."
The boy leaned in closer to the wizard, wide eyed with excitement. "Oh, thank you sir! I promise not to tell anyone! My name is Bilbo, sir. Bilbo Baggins!"
"Well, Bilbo Baggins, it is wonderful to make your acquaintance." A large hand shook a small. "Now, the first ingredient you need to make a rocket is…"