YEAH! I'm loved!! Thanks to HeavenlyKitten for the review! Everyone should follow her example!.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Mr. Genius-pants Tolkien's characters or creations. I own Violet, and whatever other original characters I come up with. I tried to take my history and characters from the book and it's indexes, so bear with me if I get something wrong – I didn't mean to. And if I stray from the story, again, I'm sorry, or I meant to for the sake of plot development. I haven't read the volumes of history and anthologies, only the trilogy, so forgive some of my ignorances and errors. Not a Mary Sue! I'm trying to avoid it, anyways, sometimes it can't be helped.

I'm sure this idea has been done before, but oh well – DEAL WITH IT!! I felt like writing this, so I did. Tell me what you like and don't, if it's good or not. (Cookies given to all reviewers!) And if you get really interested [bored], read my other story. J thanks!

Journey to the Past

Chapter 2

Violet walked along through the Shire with her guides, trying to figure out where she was and avoid the questions her guides threw at her. After a while, the three reached the Cottons' farm, and went inside. The boys got their mother, since their father was out in town. She was a nice, stout woman, with rosy cheeks and a kind face.

"Mum, this is Violet Hobson. We found her on our way home, she says she's lost." Jolly said.

"If anyone can help you, it's our mother!" Nibs agreed. Violet extended her hand and exchanged greetings with Mrs. Cotton.

"Violet Hobson. Hmmm…I don't rightly know any hobbits named Hobson, and our family has lived here for years."

"I was adopted a few years back by a couple named the Hobsons. I don't know my real name. My real parents ran off and left me. When I was found and taken to the police, the only thing I could really remember was my dad calling me Violet."

"How very sad. And my sons say you're lost?"

"Yes, I went to bed, and woke up beneath the tree  they found me near. I have no idea where I am or how to get back home."

"Don't you worry, we'll get you home. What part of the Shire do you live in?" Mrs. Cotton asked. Oh god, not another one, Violet groaned.

"I don't live in the Shire, I live in Massachusetts. You know, the USA."

"I've never heard of them places. Are they on the outer edge of the Shire?" Mrs. Cotton said confused.

"No, it's.." Violet knew it would be useless to argue and try to explain logic to these people. Instead, she feigned amnesia and prayed to eventually find a normal person who could give her some honest, useful help.

"How terrible, not remembering where you live and who you are. Well, dear, you can stay here for the night; we'll give you food and bed, and in the morning take you to the mayor. He'll know how to help." The Mayor. This sounded promising. Violet agreed, she had no real alternative. She ate dinner with the Cottons, Nibs, Jolly, little Tom, their father, Tom, and his wife. Apparently they had a daughter Violet's age, but she was working at the tavern the family owned called The Ivy Bush.

As Violet was washing up to go to bed, she finally got a good look at herself for the first time that day. It was true, her hair had curled, her feet had grown hairy, her ears were slighted pointed, and her general appearance had a look of peace and joy. She didn't know what had happened, but Violet knew she wasn't exactly "in Kansas" anymore.

After breakfast, first breakfast Nibs called it, Mrs. Cotton and Violet went down to visit the Mayor, Whil Whitefoot. He seemed very kind and very wise, and agreed to help Violet in whatever way he could. She went with him for a stroll – she didn't really want anymore weirdos hearing her story than necessary – and told him everything she knew, from moving into her apartment a couple days ago, to waking up in the meadow, to the Cottons, and the present. He listened, puffing on his pipe.

"Let's have a look at the town records, we may be able to locate your family, ad this Massachusetts you speak of." Violet was thrilled, and followed him into the record hall.

Hours they spent, pouring over albums – for hobbits love family history and folklore – and maps, but neither Whil nor Violet could find any clue leading them closer to getting her home. It looked hopeless. It was lunch time, so they took a break to eat; they decided to eat at none other than The Ivy Bush. A young girl approached them. Violet had been looking through her bag, so she didn't see the waitress at first.

"Welcome to the Ivy Bush, Mayor Whitefoot, who's your friend? A new hobbit it looks like," the waitress spoke cheerfully. Violet looked up, about to protest that she wasn't a hobbit, when her breath caught in her throat.

"Rosie! What are you doing here? I thought you had dance practice today." Violet got up and hugged the very frightened and confused waitress.

"I'm sorry, do I know you? I usually remember every face that comes in here."

"It's V! Violet?! Your best friend! C'mon, don't fool around. Where are we? Is this a weird joke you guys played on me?" Violet replied, looking around, seeing if she could spot any of her other friends.

"Violet? I don't have any friends by that name, but I'm happy to meet you. As for where you are, you're in the Sh…"

"I know, I'm in the Shire/" Violet said, sitting back down. She spent a couple more minutes trying to talk with Rosie, to no avail. Finally Rosie left to get them drinks and some food.

Mayor Whitfoot and Violet were eating, trying to figure out the bizarre situation she was in, when in came a few more guests. Violet gasped and nearly choked on her meal. These four newcomers also reminded her of her friends back home; she jumped up and ran over to them.

"Freddie? Peter? Sam? Mark? What are you guys doing here? Are you in on this joke of Rosie's, too?" The four men looked at each other, and at Violet.

"I am Sam," a young gentleman with shaggy curly blondish hair spoke up, shaking her hand," but I don't know those others you speak of. This is my good friend, Mr. Frodo Baggins, and his cousin Merry Brandybuck, and our friend Pippin Took." Okay, if things weren't creepy enough, these four guys believed they were characters out of Tolkien. She looked at them again. Yep, they looked like the guys in her "gang" back home, but they also looked slightly different. Violet introduced herself to them, and went back to finish her meal, hoping to get out of this place as soon as possible.

She and Mayor Whitefoot were walking back towards the town hall, when a cart drawn by an old man passed in front of them. "Hello, Gandalf the Grey," the Mayor greeted the man.

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