Sam's friend was very excited to see me, who I supposed to look like a good friend of his, and hugged me as a wife would hug her husband after coming back from a war.
"Robin, are you sure that's her?" inquired the supposed Sam, "After all, she's human. Mel was a Hobbit, like us."
"Sam, I don't know how, but this is her. She just . . . I don't know, has a . . . a spell on her or something to make her human, but she has to be Mel." The friend responded.
Robin had been hugging me throughout this whole bit, except when he said about a spell, when he concentrated hard on my face.
"Mel, itis you right?" Robin asked me with a sincere tone in his voice, but a smile on his lips. "You know who I am, right?"
"I'm . . . sorry. I don't," I replied apologetically, "but . . . I must admit, you do look a little familiar." Robin looked as if he wasn't sure what to make of this. It seemed he was having second thoughts about me being Melilot. I vouched for finding out what's been going on, and what year it was, etc., but before I had time to speak, someone else came in the room, but he wasn't a Hobbit. It was an elderly man with a long, grey beard, bushy eyebrows, and he carried a staff. Instantly, I noticed it was he who was standing beside my bed last night.
"Ah! There you are." said the elder, who now stood by the bed, squatting down so his head wouldn't hit the Hobbit-sized ceiling. "I've been looking for you." I couldn't help it, I had to ask.
"Are you . . . Gandalf?"
"Why, yes. I am." came the cheerful reply.
"And you're Sam, right? Samwise Gamgee? I inquired of the sandy-haired Hobbit.
"Yes." He replied. "Maybe you were right, Robin." He added. "Maybe this is Mel."
"That's not fair." Robin protested, "Why does she remember you two, but not me?"
"That doesn't matter now," Gandalf strictly replied, "I need to speak with her alone for a bit. Mr. Everard, I need you to fetch Merry and Pippin for me. Sam and Robin, would fix breakfast for Ms. Smallburrow, here?"
"Yes, Gandalf." replied the eager-to-please Sam who darted off to the kitchen. Robin nodded and followed closely after Sam, as did Mr. Bolger.
"What do you mean by calling me Smallburrow? My name is Melody Burrows. And why were you in my room last night? And how did I end up here? And-" I was a little caught up in my excitement, when Gandalf cut me off.
"All of your questions and more shall be answered in time, if you will allow me to speak."
"Right, sorry."
"Apology accepted. Now, this may come as a bit of a shock to you, but you are a Hobbit." Yup, it came as a shock, all right. "The reason you look human is because of a spell that had to use on you. I had to erase you memories and give you new ones, too so that in Alabama, you wouldn't talk of us here and be put in a mental home, but the memory cannot be completely erased, which is why Robin looks familiar to you, though you do not remember him completely." He started talking in a very solemn tone. "You see, something happened a long time ago. Your parents-well, we'll get to that after breakfast." His voice had suddenly gained a cheery tone. I started to ask what about my parents, but he hadn't finished talking yet, so he decided to finish. "You must be pretty hungry, eh?" and he was out the door.
He walked back in. "By the way, I assume you don't wish to appear in your pyjamas; there are some clothes to the left you. Oh, and before I forget. . ." He passed his cane in front of me.
"What was that for?" I asked.
"See for yourself." He held up a mirror for me. "And it might take a while for your memory to come back completely, but don't worry; it will." I took the mirror and looked. I was stunned: my straight, brown hair had curled; my ears had become larger and pointed. I felt around them, tugged them to make sure they were real, and they were. He could obviously sense my uncertainty. "Wait 'til you see your feet." And he was out the door for the second time.
I ripped off the covers, and, to my amazement, my feet were bigger and, strangest of all, covered in hair. My jaw dropped.
"I really am a Hobbit!" I thought aloud to myself.