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 4 in the Hobbit Wizards series. :) And welcome to this story coinciding with Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. There are scenes in The Goblet of Fire that I enjoy so much. So I'm looking forward to what happens in this story. Okay, here we go. :)

Little Hangleton, though it was proven to be a very quaint village, was not complete without its vast number of spooky stories. "The Riddle House", as they still called it, stood on a hill. But it was under this hill, and inside a makeshift mining cave, where orcs prowled unnoticed. They had a mission and it involved the small, weak figure hidden beneath a warm sheet and protected by a mother orc.

This is where the orcs lurked, for they had important news to tell their master. The weak creature.

"Sauron," said one orc, "the orcs have moved out. We're scattered throughout worlds. We'll find our pack."

"Good," the weak creature, who was Sauron, spoke again, "then we are drawing near the moment we have all been waiting for. I did not come so far to be disappointed." He cried hoarsely to the reddish skinned orc. "Ugnâsh, I will need you to stay put. I have a very important task for you."

"Yes, my lord," Ugnâsh spoke deep and gruff. He bowed before his dark lord. "But master, what of the boy? Will we need him for this task?"

"Yes! Of course we'll need him!" Sauron said, annoyed. He calmed down a moment later. "We will need to gather our followers. They know what to face. You know my calling card. Use it. Summon our forces back to us, to Little Hangleton. You have a year to return."

"But we are doing your service then, right," Ugnâsh asked him.

"Yes. That dame I used, she's still loyal to our cause." Sauron spoke, remembering the hobbit lass who he infected. "She will need our help, and we hers. Find her at her house. Don't dawdle."

But one of the orcs peered out at the cave's opening. Storm clouds were vast approaching and very dark. Was a thunderstorm about to strike? Those storm clouds did look scary.

"Master, what if the boy escapes?" Ugnâsh asked. "What will we do then?"

"The boy will play his part well. But we must make sure he gets to the right spot," Sauron hissed. "And when that happens, we will attack with all our might."

"Yeah!" The orcs chanted in unison.

"But what of Frodo Baggins? The boy we speak of?" the orc mother asked, crudely. "He escaped you last time."

"That is what makes this time our last chance," Sauron told them. "We must act. We will begin with the Hobbit Quidditch World Cup, and continue from there."

"An odd name to proclaim a game," the orc mother said.

"Where is that dwarf?" Sauron hissed. A gruff dwarf with blondish dark hair approached the deformed creature. Sauron spoke to him. "Yes you. I will need your help most of all."

"You can count on me for anything," the dwarf told him.

"Excellent. You will serve my purpose well," Sauron addressed him. He glanced weakly about the room. "Do not fail me."

"Fail you?" the dwarf asked. "Why would I fail you, my lord?"

"No indeed." Sauron said. "Now all I have to do is find my Nazgûl, bring them into the forefront of this war, which will begin very soon."

"Those storms are moving in closer," one orc cried.

"Why should we worry about that?" a second orc demanded, gruffly.

"Everything comes in good time. You'll see." Sauron spoke. "Yes. You will see. Frodo Baggins is as good as mine." He told the orcs. "What are you waiting for. GET. A. MOVE. ON. ORCS! Go. NOW!"

In a distant timeline, the hobbit boy named Frodo Baggins awoke from a terrible nightmare.