Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

Dracula555- Yep, full moon. Romance…not likely, sorry if I disappoint you. Glad you're liking the story though.

LATMC- Liked the cliffy huh? Great! Lol. Here's the next bit.

infallallthingsaremadesplended- I do need to have Gimli, Legolas and Gorny more, don't I? Thanks for catching me there, I forget myself. I know everyone (just about everyone) wants romance, but it just doesn't fit the plot. It would be interesting though….hmm…I'll consult with Animagus on that one.

LilyandJamesforever- Thank you for the thoughtful review, I'll gladly leave some feedback on your story. Yes, that was Moony as the werewolf. I also grant you permission to use that word usage you asked about, as long as you credit it to me. I'm flattered, really that you asked. Animagus-Spirit thanks you as well for the praise, lol.

coolmarauders- LOL, thanks for the…uh…interesting, review. Haha! Just wondering, but what's with the pole? Is it even possible to murder a pole? Lol, I still think your reviews are amusing.

Arwentheelf- I saved you for last because, again, your review was the longest. Here goes:

Space issues- that happened in the process of uploading the chapter. I've fixed it, thanks for letting me know.

Characters- need more emotion, right, mechanical, got it. Will try to repair. Lol : )

Hermione&Ron- lol, just over looked that I guess. You don't like Tolkien's imagery! faints You told me that before…yeah sometimes it does drag on when you're eager to get on with the story, anyway, that's off subject….

Hermione- ah, nothing to say on that except "ok"

OWL- sorry if you didn't like that. Just an extra thing I threw in so the story doesn't seem completely straightforward, if you know what I mean.

Ginny- Animagus actually thought of the grounding excuse, can't take that credit. I thought of dung bombs. Although, you're right in that Ginny wouldn't be the one getting caught, what was I supposed to do?

Merry- Yep, "Mr. Merry". Class thing. The "Mr." thing always, always, always bothered me, but it's now drilled into my system.

Meditate- Why not? I'm not sure if it ever says in the books that Gandalf meditates, haven't read them forever, but various fics have him meditating. He says he does in the first chapter, btw. That's how they got here…

Action- Yes, I know Harry would probably stay and fight, but I don't just sit here and say "ok, this is going to happen next." The entire story is created, the sequence written down and everything. Originally, this wasn't to be posted, it was a fun pastime for Animagus and I. I've changed a few things all ready, but changing that detail wouldn't have worked.

Romance- Sorry, but I don't think so. See above for my excuse.

Harry- Good points there. I don't like Harry. Never did. shrugs He's an important character though, so…

Stereo-typical- and lecturing and criticizing you are excellent at, might I add. Lol

POV- Ok, this is where I get to debate with you. I know you hate Frodo, but please refrain from reminding me! It makes me sad. I know Merry and Pippin aren't one person. Also, they really are serious characters. In the movie they're more comical. They're the pranksters of the group, but like Fred and George (and maybe more so) they can be serious, and there will be a time in this fic when they will need to be. Sam IS a fun POV, I haven't posted anything in his but I've written it. Thing is, with Sam I sometimes drag on with his thoughts (because it's so fun!)

Thanks, and yes, a very long review. (about 2 pgs on Word)

Sorry for the delay in getting this posted, hopefully the chapter will make up for it.

Finally…

Chapter 5: Back to Privet Drive

Harry flew. He flew without caring whether they were seen, even though the dark clouds, heavy with rainwater and the damp, gray mist that surrounded them would probably keep them hidden from watchful eyes. Besides, they we flying so fast he doubted any Muggles would be able to distinguish anything from the blurred figure they would briefly see. He knew his destination; he just had to get there. He was pretty sure he knew where he was going, but he constantly kept a seeker's eye on the ground below at all times.

Frodo held tightly to the wooden handle of the broom, eyes shut tightly against both the height and the wave of nausea that was assailing him. He had never experienced anything of the sort, unless you count the ride from Mordor on the Great Eagles, but, of course, he had no memory of that. He shivered against the chill of the wind, and wished he had thought to bring his cloak, but then, he hadn't planned on being in this situation either.

With an uncomfortable jerk of his stomach, Frodo realized with mingled fear and relief that they were landing, and again he swallowed, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Behind him, Harry's feet hit the ground; the broom stopped abruptly, and Frodo tumbled off of it onto soft grass. He remained still a moment, breathing deeply and allowing his insides to settle, then stood up and looked around.

He was standing on a neatly kept lawn, in front of a friendly looking house. A soft glow of light shined from behind closed curtains. He looked at Harry.

"Where are we?" he asked.

Harry had a look of disgust on his face. "My aunt and uncle's house," he said. "It was the only place I could think to go. Come on."

He led the way up to the front door, pulled out his wand, pointed it at the lock, and said, "Alohomora!" Harry put his wand back in his pocket as the door flew open with a great deal of force and banged loudly against the wall. There was a shriek from somewhere inside, and then, shortly afterwards, the pounding of footsteps heading in there direction.

A large, purple-faced, man with hardly any neck came storming into the hallway. When he laid eyes on Harry, his own eyes bulged and his face turned a deep crimson.

"YOU!" He bellowed. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!"

"Last time I checked," Harry said, "I lived here."

There was a sound from the doorway across the hall, and Frodo saw a bony-cheeked woman and a blonde boy, who looked very much like whom Frodo assumed to be his father.

"What is it, Vernon?" the woman asked.

"It's the boy, Petunia! He's back!" Vernon said loudly. Then turning to Harry, he said, "Why are you here? I thought you'd gone to stay with your freaky little friends."

Harry glared at him. "I did, but I thought I'd come by for a visit," he said with an edge of sarcasm.

Vernon's face turned a deeper shade and he glared back at Harry. "Don't use that tone with me, boy!" he growled.

"I'll use whatever tone I'd like to, thanks!" Harry shouted.

Vernon swelled with rage, and then noticed Frodo.

"What in God's name is that!" he said.

Frodo made as if to say something, but Harry cut him off, "What's it to you!" he spat.

Vernon turned on Harry and stormed forward. Before Harry could react, he seized Harry around the neck with his thick hand and pinned him against the wall. "I WILL NOT HAVE YOU BRING ABNORMALITIES INTO THIS HOUSEHOLD!" he roared, infuriated. "I DO NOT WANT MY FAMILY ASSOCIATED WITH ANYONE OF…YOUR SORT!"

Shocked, at first Frodo could only stare, at a loss of what to do. Then, in a burst of sudden remembrance, he reached to his side and found that he had not removed Sting. Quickly, and without a second's hesitation, he unsheathed it and leaping upon a small table near the wall pointed the blade at Vernon's throat.

"Release him," he demanded firmly. "Or I'll cut your throat."

A wave of fear passed over Vernon's face, and he released Harry, who sank to the floor, unconscious. Vernon stepped back, Sting still pointed at his throat. Frodo advanced, not intending to strike but to drive the man out of the hall. He succeeded; Vernon, Petunia, and their son retreated backwards towards the stairs, and then hurried up them and out of sight.

Frodo sheathed Sting, and then hurried over to Harry. Placing his fingers on his neck, he felt a pulse and let out a breath of relief.

"Harry," he said shaking him. "Wake up, Harry."

Frodo frowned worriedly. He looked around, pondering what to do. He was just about to search for some water when he heard running footsteps.

An elderly woman with grizzled gray hair had hurried up to the front porch of Number Four. When she looked inside and saw the scene that was before her, she let out a gasp, and looked to Frodo.

"What's happened!" she shrieked.

Frodo quickly recounted the tale of Vernon Dursley's rage.

"Oh, dear, let's see if we can wake him then…Harry…Harry, wake up dear, come on now, that's it…there you go…" Slowly, Harry began to come back into consciousness.

"M-Mrs. Figg? What are you doing here?" he said shakily.

"I heard noises, foolish boy, so I came to make sure everything was all right."

"How'd you know we were here?"

"I didn't," she replied. "I have no idea why you're here, of course, but can't one check up on her neighbors? Come on, boy, we're going back to my house. Can you walk?"

Harry nodded slowly, then rubbed his neck grimacing slightly. There were angry red marks from where Vernon's fingers had held him. Holding to the wall for support, he pulled himself off the floor and shakily followed the Mrs. Figg out the door, Frodo bringing up the rear.

They passed the broomstick still lying on the lawn, and Harry made as if to pick it up, but Frodo retrieved it and carried it (although with some difficulty, because it was much larger than he was) for him.

They reached a house much similar to the one they had left, but upon entering it, Frodo found that it was much different. It was not spotless, in fact it was much more cluttered, and smelled strongly of cabbage. Out of the corner of his eye, Frodo saw a cat dart out of sight around a corner.

"Sit here," Mrs. Figg said gently, gesturing to the couch. "I'll make some tea." Harry sat down, followed by Frodo, who set the broomstick carefully on the floor. They said nothing; Harry unwilling to speak and Frodo unsure of what to say. Mrs. Figg returned shortly with the tea, and Frodo thanked her and drank gratefully.

"Now," said Mrs. Figg, "what are you doing back here, Harry? You're supposed to be with the Order for the rest of the summer."

"Snape forgot to make the wolf's bane potion for Lupin," he said, glaring at the mere thought of it. "Frodo and I had to get out, and I couldn't think where else to go, so…"

"Forgot to make the potion, did he? Well, at least you got here and not someplace dangerous. Do the others know you're here?"

"No," said Harry shortly, "There was no time, we were escaping from a werewolf, remember?"

"Of course you were," she said. "They should know you're here though." She stood, and lit a fire in the hearth. She then removed a small jar of what to Frodo looked like ashes from the mantelpiece. "Come on now, boy, if you have the strength."

Harry heaved himself off the couch, traveled a short distance to the fireplace, took a pinch of the powdery substance, knelt in front of the fire, and threw some of it in. The flames, to Frodo's amazement, turned emerald green. Then, Frodo let out a cry of surprise as Harry stuck his head in the flames and yelled "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!"

It was easily the strangest thing Frodo had ever witnessed, and he stared dumbly, eyes wide at the flames.

There was another cry of surprise back at Number Twelve, when Harry's head appeared in the fire. Pippin had seen it first, and his cry alerted the others.

"Harry!" several cried, and then crowded around the fireplace.

"Are you all right?"

"Where are you?"

"How'd you get away?"

"What happened?"

"Out of the way! Out of the way! Move, Ginny!" Molly Weasley shoved her way to the front of the crowd. "Harry, dear, where are you? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said, "I'm at Mrs. Figg's house." There were banging noises from somewhere above them. "What's happening?"

"Good, you're safe then. Don't worry about us, Harry, the door's been sealed. We'll send someone for you as soon as we can." she said.

"How'd you get there, Harry?" said Fred.

"We flew," Harry said dully.

"Flew? Wicked, mate!" said Ron.

"We?" Sam said. "So Mr. Frodo's there! Is he alright?"

"Yeah," said Harry, as relief washed over several faces. He thought to mention Snape's forgetfulness, perhaps purpose forgetfulness, but decided it was unwise to say so in front of so many Order members. If Sirius were there…he shook his head. "Well, I guess I'll go." He pulled his head back out of the fire and found Frodo gaping at him.

"You…how did you…?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't ask me how it works." he sat back down on the couch and turned to Mrs. Figg. "Mrs. Weasley said she'd send someone as soon as she can."

"All right, all right. You'll stay here for now. You could take the guest bedroom, but I wouldn't recommend that, the cats have claimed that as theirs…."

"I'll stay here then," said Harry , and Frodo nodded.

"Very well, help yourselves to anything, watch TV if you want. I'm going to bed, goodnight."

She left the room, and finally Frodo had a chance to speak with Harry without interruption. "Sorry, Harry, but all that has happened…I'm afraid I don't understand much of it."

Harry sighed. "Lupin, you met him, is a werewolf," seeing Frodo's blank expression, he went on. "Every full moon he turns into a wolf…well, not a normal wolf but…anyway, he's not dangerous if he takes this potion Snape-don't know if you've met him, if you haven't that's a good thing, trust me-makes, but obviously Snape forgot…"

"And your uncle?"

Harry snorted. "He can't stand anything that has to do with magic, he and my aunt just got stuck with me after my parents died." he shrugged. "Sorry about all that earlier. There wasn't any time."

"You saved my life, Harry," said Frodo with realization.

Harry's demeanor darkened. "Don't start that. The last thing I need is for someone else to tell me I have a "saving-people thing."

"Please, forgive me."

"Sure."

Frodo shivered, suddenly cold, and moved to an armchair closer to the fire that Mrs. Figg had neglected to put out. He noticed she had set some blankets for them on the coffee table while Harry had been speaking with the Order members. He took one, and wrapping it around his shoulders settled comfortably in the cushions. It wasn't long until he had drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The fire had receded to nothing more than glowing embers, and the room was shrouded in darkness. The only source of adequate light was that of the full moon shining through a gap in the curtains, forming distorted shapes from the shadows it created.

Frodo shuddered despite himself. The dreams had come back again, twisting and writhing about his mind until he felt he would go mad with the fear and the pain until he had finally been pulled into awareness by his own will. Yet, now that he was alert, he could no longer remember what he had dreamt. His own consciousness had driven the very last threads of the nightmare beyond his reach, and although he strove to grasp them, to understand why these ghastly images of terror were haunting him, they were gone, evaporated into an empty nothingness.

He sighed and settled back into the soft cushions of the armchair, again wrapping the blanket securely around him. He closed his eyes, allowing his heavy breathing to calm and his trembling to cease.

A groan from behind caused him to start slightly. He leaned around the side of the chair to see Harry softly struggling in the blankets on the couch. So, he was not the only one with troubled dreams.

Frodo rose from his chair and made his way to the couch. He slowly reached out a hand and rested it on Harry's shoulder. "Harry," he said, shaking him. "Harry!"

The boy came to his senses and looked blearily around, only seeing blurred shapes for he did not have his glasses on. Frodo studied him carefully. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," said Harry, though Frodo was sure he heard a small tremor in his voice. "I'm fine, just a dream."

Frodo nodded and let him be, but he was also sure it was the same "I'm fine" that he himself used on similar occasions in an attempt to reassure a worried Sam.

TBC