Disclaimers: All canon material from The Lord of the Rings goes to J.R.R. Tolkien, New Line Cinema, Warner Brothers and Turbine. All canon material from the Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. All other canon material belongs to their respected owners. All original material belongs to me, the authoress of this fanfiction story.

Welcome to Book 5 in the Hobbit Wizards series. :) This year also marks a decade since "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" was in theaters, and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows book was first released. So much happening this year, that it's almost ironic that I begin a new story in 2017 with The Firebird's Call. So excited right now. :) Okay, let's get started. :)

Frodo Baggins collapsed on the dirt, close to Bywater's Lake. The lake itself was so clear and cool this day, almost cancelling out any sign of it being a hot summer's day. He looked now at the surface. The fish swam in threads, moving this way and that. It was so quiet here, so peaceful. A great chance to sit and reflect.

Frodo was fifteen years old, turning sixteen, and yet so much had changed in the past three years. Next to his lighter-than-usual skin, which he received from his Fallohide ancestry on his mother's side, his pointy ears, and his brown curly hair that rested on the top of his head and feet, one could almost point out that Frodo was like any other hobbit of the Shire and Buckland. Then there were his bright blue eyes, which by now were the one part of himself the girls were noticing. For the blue eyes added to his fair features. His growing height was another part of him that made another significant difference, for he was becoming taller than those hobbits around his age. As for his clothes, today he wore a blue dress shirt and dark blue knee breeches. It seemed the appropriate choice to cast off the heat.

But his mission now was to reflect. Reflect on these past two months, before his trip back to Hogwarts…

"Frodo," said a feminine voice. Frodo hardly moved, hardly spoke. The voice spoke again, "Frodo." Frodo turned and looked there. There was a hobbit in her late teens, around the same age as he, with locks of dark hair and wearing a bluish-grey dress. He nearly mistaken her as any other hobbitess in the Shire. "Frodo, my name is Marietta. Can I sit down with you?"

"Sure," Frodo said, not minding. Surely Bilbo wouldn't mind. He was staying with him over the summer, before returning to Hogwarts. It was becoming a tradition now that every other summer he stay with Bilbo, while the other half was spent at Brandy Hall. This just seemed the right occasion, but still, there were questions he wanted – needed answering…

"You seem lost in thought," Marietta said. "Is there something on your mind?"

"I'm returning to Hogwarts," Frodo said. "I need to wait until after I get my list of school supplies. And… there's something else."

"Is it about Cedric Diggory?" Marietta asked. Frodo turned sharply at her. He hadn't told her this.

"How did you know that?" Frodo asked her.

"Rumors are circling," Marietta said. "Given what happened in recent months, I wonder how you're taking Cedric's death."

"I wasn't there… in the graveyard," Frodo said. "I wasn't there." He sighed. "Look, I don't know you. I can't just talk about deep matters with you, unless we know each other."

"But you do know me," Marietta said. "You may not see it, but I…"

"Frodo!" Bilbo called in the near distance.

"Good luck, Frodo," Marietta's voice whispered in the winds. Frodo glanced over at the spot where she had been, but Marietta was gone. What? What did he just see?

"Frodo," Bilbo shouted again. He was closer now. "What are you doing?"

"Um…" Frodo looked at the water again. What was he doing? "I'm resting."

"Well, come on." Bilbo said, gesturing forward. "I'm heading to market. You're welcome to come along."

"Right," Frodo said, standing upright. He looked on at the Lake one last time. In quick strides, he reached his uncle, who had just begun looking at apples. "Uncle."

"Frodo," Bilbo said, cheery. "So, what do you think?"

"What do I think?" Frodo asked. Were they thinking the same subject?

"Of lunch," he replied.

"Oh. I'm sure it's lovely."

"You haven't decided what you want." Bilbo said, setting the apple down on the crate. "But it is lovely, isn't it? The Lake? Peaceful, tranquil, safe, secluded."

"Where are you going with this, uncle?" Frodo asked him.

"I'm just saying." Bilbo said. "The worlds are changing. Dark times lie ahead. And now…"

"Lunch," Frodo said.

"Ah yes, right. Lunch," Bilbo said, selecting a few meats and cheese. "There we are." Frodo fetched some lettuce and celery. "Ah yes, there's that, too. Thank you."

"Do we have everything we need?" Frodo asked.

"Yes, I believe we do." Bilbo said, pressing Frodo onwards. "Let's head back to Bag End."

"Okay uncle," Frodo said, following his uncle back down the same road they took to Hobbiton. There was silence for a good five minutes. Frodo wondered then if his uncle was thinking about something important or whether he needed his help with anything. He looked up when his uncle did speak to him again.

"Frodo, ever since Cedric Diggory's death, you've been hiding away in your room," Bilbo said. "I know your aunt and uncle brought you to me early on in the summer, but I'd like to know how you are faring."

"Sauron is back, uncle. What more is there—" Frodo was interrupted by a shush from his uncle. "What? It's true."

"Frodo, you mustn't say things like that out loud. People will hear you," Bilbo said.

"Why?" Frodo asked, a bit distraught, annoyed and confused. "Is it so important that I keep Sauron a secret?"

"Yes," Bilbo looked around, before facing him again. "I mean no. But a lot of people won't believe you."

"Why would that make much of a difference?" Frodo asked, calming down. "A lot of people need to know that Sauron is back. Isn't that what's important?"

"Listen Frodo. Let's keep this matter to ourselves for the time being." Bilbo paused. "Things are changing. Times are growing darker. Sooner or later, we will have to decide which side to choose."

"I think I've chosen mine," Frodo said, serious.

"Come on. Let's head indoors," Bilbo said, as they neared Bag End.

The moment Frodo stepped inside the smial, he darted into his bedroom. Checking to make sure that his uncle wasn't around, he pulled from his chest the one book he wanted to finish reading: The Return of the King.