Hello! How are you?

After so long, I finally got another chapter up. Thank you for being patient with me and for accepting what I am giving to you all. It is not as polished as I should like, but it is cleaned up and self-edited nicely. What I would give for a beta-reader!

Enjoy!

-E-

In order to keep his legs from losing their stamina - from shedding away its strength from his feathered bed and cakes - Bilbo made the effort to rise early, stretch, and hike through the school. He had done this ever since he had the notion to research his predicament, and he was proud of this obedience. But, recently, he had been walking extra; perhaps his worry for the dwarves made him pace more, maybe his lack of progress in this world, or, more likely, the ring bouncing in his pocket.

It had only been getting worse, he knew. The ring was acting stranger as time grew. At random moments, it would twitch and jump. Other times it would be too heavy to set down or too peculiar to look away from. It became concerning after Bilbo decided that the presence of a strong wizard - a teacher or select student - usually aroused the ring to act up. It bothered him; why was it like this and how long will it act so? Was it because he was in this world? Did it mean anything? He pondered these taxing thoughts as he traveled down the corridor, glancing at the portraits on his way. He wanted to see if they played any other card games or talked about any other wizard, anything different to lighten his mind, but only some waved at him while others stared at his feet.

He was thinking too much, he knew.

When he was turning around a corner - one he knew led to Flitwick's classroom - he rammed into someone's vest; a cotton belly squished into his face.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" he gasped. "I wasn't looking! I should've been more careful, sorry!"

Instead of moving to the side, the figure knelt down and met his face; it was a blonde, pale girl with blue and black robes. Mature, far-out looks engraved themselves into her features. Yet, a strange cork necklace draped down her front and radish earrings dangled beside her head, spoiling her ancient, chiseled look into something unserious. But, he could not guess why she wore them - they obviously were not for fashion.

Smiling dreamily, she said, "Oh, it's no problem, Mr. Baggins. I run into people rather often. Oh well."

"Yes, well…." He cleared his throat. "It takes two to do so, and sorry for not paying attention."

She smiled. He cleared his throat again.

The moments lengthened too much for his liking. He was unsure whether to turn away or to ask if she needed something. This was the first time he actually encountered a student like this - face to face with clear words, not side-glances or whisperings, but, now, he was not sure what to do, especially that she kept gazing at him with relaxed confidence. Awkwardness gripped him.

"Well, uh, I think I'll be on my way. I don't want to keep you from your classes. Wizard studies are very important from what I've gathered, yes?"

The girl tilted her head. "Hm? Oh… excuse me, but aren't you going to answer my questions?"

"Uh, questions?"

"Yes," she stood up, the ends of her hair long enough to sweep the top of his head. "Though, I left my notes in my dorm. Here, let me go get those." She sighed like a spring breeze. "If you'd be kind enough to wait for me here…."

Bilbo was unsure what to make of her, but said courteously, "O-of course."

-E-

Many herds of students passed him - eyeing him and glancing at his wooly feet - and a couple of ghosts came by and bled into the walls. As more and more figures went by, Bilbo began to doubt and think the girl had left him entirely. Perhaps, she forgot to come back - forgot like the answers he never offered.

He was about to leave, fearing Peeves to fly around the corner at any second - the memory of rotten eggs had scarred him more than a family reunion with the Bracegirdles - but an airy voice made him jump.

"Oh, that's nice of you to wait."

Bilbo looked up and saw the girl again, a large notebook and newspaper propped against her narrow hip. Without a word, she strolled off, making him jump and scramble after her. Her long strides may be slow, but he still had a hard time keeping up.

After a few yards, he asked, "You seemed surprised?"

"Hm?"

"When you saw I waited back there."

"Oh, yes. Y'see, people often don't wait for me, but it's nice of you to do that for me. It's a nice change of company."

Bilbo cleared his throat and could not carry the conversation further.

They traveled for a few minutes before turning down into a side hallway he had not been down yet, where the decorations were new - styled more like royalty artworks and complicated genealogies - and the doors seemed to lead to nowhere important. It did not seem to be a part of the castle, but somewhere completely new, almost like it was an illustration from Gondor's interior design records.

He walked, fixing his collar excessively, and glanced at the new paintings, which stared back like he was an alien disturbing the peace. But, when he had the notion to ask where they were going - after a few more hallways and even a staircase - the girl abruptly turned into a classroom. He followed.

From the looks of its insides, it had not been used in a while. Its desks were stack away against the wall and the curtains blocked the windows. Only slivers of sunlight highlighted the dusty, splinter-edged floorboards. Dust bunnies collected themselves together and rolled around as the girl floated into the room, murmuring a sweet spell. Soon, she set up two chairs in the center of the room - too close together, in Bilbo's opinion. The chairs were like islands in a large lake, except no outsider could swim to them or back.

She flared open the curtains and looked down at him. "Please take a seat, Mr. Baggins, so I may start the interview," she said, opening her notebook and sitting down.

For a moment, he weighed his options, but he could not think of any excuse to leave or any rule in his guest-code saying he could not partake in a student's interview. There was nothing wrong with this. He left the door wide open before moving to sit across from her, their knees brushing against the others'.

"So, uh," he began, "what kind of interview are you conducting?"

"Hm?" she looked up from her notes, blonde hair shimmering. "Oh, just going to ask a few questions. You see, Mr. Baggins, my father writes for The Quibbler, and he and I would love to feature you in it."

"M-me in an article?" Bilbo gawked. "That's too much flattery for little old me!"

She smiled broadly. "Would you please? I know lots about magical creatures and peoples, but never before have I heard of hobbits before… which brings to my first question." She glanced at her notes with a lazy eye. "Are hobbits considered to be good luck and, if you happen to be cousins of leprechauns, do you possess any pots of gold?"

"Oh… uh," his excitement deflated. "What's a leprechaun?"

"That is a no, I think," she said aloud and wrote slowly like she crafted a picture instead. "What about good luck? Is your appearance good luck or do you have superstitions that bring good luck?"

This fascination explained the jewelry, he thought.

"Uh, well… hm, here, if I remember correctly I heard that some big people in Bree - Oh, a town somewhat close to home - believed that hobbits bring good luck by mere appearance. Some think of us to be like the opposite of black cats. Good omens, if you will, especially with the elves. But, according to the Bree big folk as I've mentioned, our feet are luckier than rabbit feet. And, apparently, we're especially lucky if you, uh…." He blushed. "Nevermind, l-let's not get into that right now."

"Alright-y," she said. "Another question, if you please. How many Nargles do you see on a daily basis - here or in your world?"

"Um… none? I don't exactly know what-"

"Oh, pardon me!" She giggled. "I'm wearing my cork necklace, so I bet you haven't seen any here yet. Silly me. Although, it's better to avoid them. A crafty lot, they are."

"So, they're like that Peeves fellow, then? He keeps bothering me whenever I go for a walk."

"... Something like him." She moved on. "A few more questions, please. How old are you and where are you from? From your world, that is?"

With normal questions blooming, Bilbo straightened up. "Well, I am fifty years old, but to men, that's about… thirty-five to thirty-nine-ish? Yes, I think so. Anyway, I live in my smial in the Shire, which is in the northern bit of Middle-earth, er, my world."

"Sweet, thank you," she said. "Now, I think I've asked enough questions."

"Um, alright." It surprised him how brief the interview was. "Well, uh, do you need any cited sources or signatures or so?"

"No," she said, but perked at his offers, "although, I wouldn't mind a brief description of hobbits. Y'see, I've never heard of your people before, so I'd like to have a synopsis for future usage. The wizarding world will definitely benefit from it." She held out her notes.

"Well… a small paragraph isn't hard to write."

Balancing the notebook on his knee, he scratched done modest words, trying to keep his dangling legs still so his penmanship was legible. He wondered why she did not just ask basic questions first, then get onto her specific questions. It was rather silly. Perhaps, this was her first interview ever. Though, he did not want to judge, so he gave her the benefit of the doubt.

Halfway through, he noticed the girl gazing at his feet - not in the usual way most students did, but in an admiring way that made him shift in his chair, in a way like when his neighbors would take too much interest in his tulip garden. He made sure to add a generous description of hobbit feet for The Quibbler's sake, excluding its good omen details. He assured himself that she did not need to know the specifics.

"May I ask what your name is?" Bilbo handed back her notebook.

"Oh! I guess I haven't mentioned that yet, silly me." She tucked the notes away. "Luna Lovegood."

"Well, Miss Lovegood, it's nice to have this interview. I truly am flattered."

She giggled. "You are very polite, Mr. Baggins, and you are comfortably awkward to be around."

Whether a compliment or a kindly blunt remark, he laughed. "Thank you!"

-E-

Before he left, Luna paid him: "A butterbeer cork for your troubles. Should help to keep these Nargles away. Or Peeves, but I'm not entirely sure."

Now, walking back down the corridors, Bilbo held a small smile as he fingered the cork in his pocket. Security flooded his body like he took a hearty puff of Old Toby.

So far, no ghosts had appeared, the halls were bare, and the cork began to grow his confidence tenfold. He walked with a little more sureness, a little more ease. He would not have to worry about rotten eggs again. But, just when he thought he had walked back to his and Luna's collision corner, he realized he was lost. The armor stands and paintings around him were older and less colorful than the ones he usually admired. Finer brass plates and golden picture frames. Not the same hallway.

He tucked the cork away into his pocket - it bulged like a cheek full of food since his acorn bunked with it - and surveyed the halls. They were hopelessly unrecognizable. Not the same banners or door shapes. Not even a single person dwelled here.

Although, he knew he was on the second or third floor; the window at the corridor's end showed the tips of the forests' trees outside, the negative space of clouds overhead. This told him he had to make his way back down, to find a staircase if he wanted to get to the kitchens in time for afternoon tea. He remembered Dobby saying there were going to have scones and hot sandwiches today.

With a growl in his belly, he hopped off. His hunger and the cork gave him vigor in his search, some determination to find his way back with still no worry about Peeves. He passed many paintings, ignoring their remarks, and turned many corners. All of them were not inclined down. At one point, he found a staircase only leading up.

"There's got to be a down one somewhere," he murmured.

More time passed. His growl grew. When he encountered the upward staircase again, he guessed afternoon tea was halfway over. He kicked himself for losing his way and for making Dobby be alone for tea. The idea of the house elf being alone made his heart heavy.

He kept walking circles, getting lost and finding his way back only to get lost somewhere else - he could not believe his navigation skills; perhaps the cork was bad luck - and had to stop. He had walked more the last hour than usual walking periods, and he felt it. His calves grew too heavy, so he took a break, stretching and whining to himself.

"Oh, Bilbo, you are rather ridiculous at times… can't find your way to save your life… you did better in those goblin caves than here…." He popped his shoulder and rolled it around.

When he was about to nag himself on the state of his stomach, his ears perked up: a pair of shoes tiptoeing behind him, rubbery heels pressing into the grainy stone floor. But, turning around, he saw no one. Only his unknown location and the shields hanging on the wall was insight. The noise faltered. Bilbo heard breathing close by.

"Hello?" he called out. He would have felt silly for feeling paranoid, but the blundering sounds of a big person were obvious. Someone was feet away from him. Invisible.

In his pocket, the ring rattled.

"Hello?" he said firmer. "Who's there?"

The figure did not move, its breath vanishing.

"Hello? Excuse me, but where are you?"

The temptation to slip on the ring welled inside him; whether to see the figure or escape it, desire took hold of him. It was unbearable. His hand hovered over his waistcoat.

"Hello? Please tell me how you are doing that. I know you are there, so please." Now, he felt silly. "Are you using a-a thing too? That's how I-"

"Mr. Baggins."

Bilbo spun around and saw a blond student standing close behind him with his hands behind his back. The figure was potently pale, which reflected the window's light in a moon-like way. Green and black robes hung on his frame, hanging intellectually and precisely, but his scholar looks mixed with a cunning sharpness that was rare to find.

The hobbit cleared his throat. "Uh, hello."

"You seem lost."

"Well, uh, sort of. I," he glanced at the direction of the invisible figure. "I was just trying to find my way back to the kitchens. I appear to have lost my way after a short interview with -" he looked up at the student. "What are you doing here? No one seems to be here right now… except me, that is."

With a shadow of a smirk, the boy said, "Not too many classes are here in use I suppose. This old castle has a lot of unused rooms. If I were the headmaster, I would make use of them."

"Ah, yes, thoughtful of you to think that."

The boy nodded. "Let's find our way back. You wouldn't want to run into Filch or ghosts or any other horrible monster I'm sure. There are some irresponsibly placed liabilities here. Trolls, for instance. Anyone could get hurt."

"Well, no, I wouldn't want that."

The boy took long strides toward the invisible figure, who jumped out of the way with a jerked breath. It was as audible as a shout, and Bilbo could not understand why the boy did not hear it. But, then again, big folk had terrible hearing.

Awkwardly, Bilbo whispered goodbye and followed the blond boy.

-E-

"Um, are you sure this is the right way? We've been walking for quite a bit."

"Yes, Mr. Baggins, I've been at this school for longer than I've liked. I know where to go."

"Alright, sorry, I am just a little on edge. That Peeves fellow isn't one I prefer."

"Stick with me and he'll think twice about bothering you."

Bilbo glanced at the student, hopping along to keep up with his strut. It was much faster and longer than Luna's. "You mean he only bothers certain people?"

Malfoy - the name Bilbo learned to call him - tapped on his badge with a smirk. "As prefect, I get certain powers over things. Peeves would be better off targeting first years than prefects because we had direct authorities from our house-heads. Mine is Slytherin, by the way. The superior house."

He chuckled at the boy's attitude. It reminded him of the more charming side of the Sackville-Bagginses, of the few family members he could tolerate.

"Huh, I guess even Peeves needs to be careful. Couldn't imagine him getting away with pranking teachers or student-helpers for long. I just wish they would get rid of him entirely… makes me pity the first-years… unless he is somehow important to Hogwarts? Like an important figure or an artifact of some kind?"

"No, he isn't. Decisions like these make the headmaster look foolish, don't you agree?"

Bilbo drew his eyebrows together. "Uh, I wouldn't say that. There's a reason for everything."

"You," the boy said with emphasis, "are totally and completely right, Mr. Baggins."

"Ah, well, thank my father for that advise. He -" Bilbo stopped when Malfoy halted suddenly and stood still. He smiled like a serpent. It was eerie and the hobbit could not understand it, but it was not the smile that worried him - it was probably a tease to some joke he walked into - but it was the fact the boy stopped in a secluded hallway, intentionally hindering their progress. Something was amiss.

"Um, yes? What is it?"

"Everything happens for a reason, correct?"

"...Yes? What are you-"

"So, doesn't it make sense to think that something summoned you here?"

In seconds, the hallway's window grew dark once the clouds covered the sun. It grayed the stone floor and the boy's face to match - stony and abnormal with only a suggesting smile.

"I'm sorry?"

"No, never be sorry! Don't you sense it? The reason why you were summoned?"

"Are you saying I was summoned here?" Bilbo could not close his jaw. "I just… I just fell into a ravine before the elf guards - I'll tell you later - the elf guards could catch me. It truly was not mine or anyone else's doing. It… It was truly just an occurrence. Just a-"

"But, everything happens for a reason."

"Mr. Malfoy," he started, quickly disliking the satisfaction on the boy's face, "how do you even know about my-"

"One could say I know a thing or two the headmaster doesn't. I am a different sort of wizard if you could imagine." He placed a pale, acidic hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "I know a bit more about the type of magic that the headmaster doesn't get involved with. I'm knowledgable in that field."

"So -" Bilbo's ears perked up when footsteps pattered toward them "- so, excuse me, but do you know how I got here and… how I could get back? I've been so frustrated with researching about it and finding absolutely nothing. I'm sick of it," he admitted. "But, you know how? You know how I got here?"

"No, better." He smirked. "I know why."

"Could… could you tell me? Tell me that and how you know and how I can go back? I'm making no progress here, as I've said, and I might-"

"You're talking too much, Mr. Baggins. I can tell you everything, but you can never know who's listening."

Bilbo glanced at the source of the footsteps, hearing its breath stop again and footsteps freeze. "Wait, you know about it too? I thought only I could-"

"Oh, I know about him." Malfoy pulled himself away, turned around, and tried to find the figure, using a hand to search like he was caught in the dark. "He's actually a good start, wouldn't you believe? He'll be a-"

Before any else - before the invisible figure was located or before Bilbo could ask any more questions - two figures appeared. They popped up and wedge Bilbo between them. Two frames crushing his smaller one. Before Bilbo could squeak or push them off, they covered his mouth and hoisted him up. They raced off, like two people carrying a bucket of water for a field day game, and left without a trace.

A hallway passed and his struggles were useless. But, Bilbo squirmed more when he saw his kidnappers had red hair and freckles; this did not assure him. With a small chuckle and whine, he tried to kick harder out of their grip. They were just like Fili and Kili. And, like them, their actions were not innocent. (For instance, last time he met them they had attacked him with a bucket full of confetti, daisies, and glitter. It was better than rotten eggs and it gave him a laugh, but his allergies were not impressed.)

He attempted to wiggle out of their hold.

"Stop that, squirt. We're tryin' to save your arse."

"Fred is right, now just stop that-"

"No, stop it."

"Lil' bloke, c'mon."

"He's not stopping, George."

"I know. Now, be a good lil' hobbit and - no, no, you stop kicking Fred like that 'cause it gives us a perfect reason to - What? No, don't-"

They turned a corner and flicked Bilbo on the nose.

Another hallway passed.

"George."

"Yeah, I know."

"No, I mean he's not stopping. He's-"

"I know! Shut up! This is a stealth mission, remember?"

"Wait."

"What?"

"Oh shoot, they've seen us."

Bilbo could not see what they were escaping. His vision wavered with the rhythm of their ungraceful running; everything was a shmear of a wet watercolor painting, dripping and dizzying. He could not tell where they were going, only that two fat figures chased them unsuccessfully. It was comical to hear their heavy steps. Although, George and Fred seemed more concerned with Malfoy, who ran with fire in his step.

Bilbo had no idea what was going on.

After longer than he liked - a marathon of cursing and running - he found himself leaning against a wall of an abandoned classroom, trying to reclaim his wits from that ordeal. It shook him up more than he realized. Meanwhile, the twins peeked out the door to see if the hallways were safe again, murmuring to each other and rolling their wrists from their load.

"What," Bilbo breathed. "What… What on earth were you two trying to accomplish? I was just-"

They appeared in front of him. Another nose flick.

"Hey! Don't do-"

One more nose flick, then the twins knelt down to read his face.

"Just so we're all crystal clear, Bill, it was awfully dumb of you to be near that bloke. He's no good, couldn't you tell?"

"You're lucky we found you or else you would've been brainwashed."

Bilbo frowned and rubbed his nose. "What do you mean by that? He was telling me that he knew why I was here and maybe how I could-"

"That's what all solicitors say to reel you in, don't you know? You've had those salesmen before, right?"

"Remember when that one guy tried to sell us spoons that can be polished by themselves? A waste of sickles if you ask me."

"Yes, think of the spoons, Bill. Malfoy was just tryna get your attention, y'know, and blow some smoke up your-"

"George, we have a polite audience!" Fred laughed, and Bilbo tried not to give them the satisfaction of laughing himself.

"B-but, anyway," the hobbit cleared his throat. "He was telling me he knew things about my situation and-"

"Oh, he doesn't. He really truly doesn't."

"Seriously, it's laughable how much he doesn't know."

"B-but-"

"Now, where is Harry?" Fred said and poked his head out the door again. "He's the one to call us here and now he's ditchin'? What a guy."

"Probably got caught. I bet a galleon it was Filch. Double-door's been very careful with him and our lil' fellow. Like, there's always a teacher around when you don't need one, right?"

"It's always been like that."

"No, I mean with just Harry or just Bill, not us. We're a couple o' sly gents, so we need to pass on our slyness to them - Oi, where are you goin'?"

They grabbed him before he could slip ouside, before he could take advantage of the cracked door and speed out. The moment the ground left his feet, he squeaked.

"Don't think you can just get away from us, ya lil' troublemaker. Us troublemakers need to stick together."

"Yeah, but stay away from Malfoy. He's the nutty troublemaker. You don't want that, Bill."

"Now, what did you tell him? -" in a few steps, they lifted him onto a stack of chairs, sitting nearly eye-level with them "- 'cause if it's bad, then you need to stay away from him even more so if you get my meaning."

The hobbit did not like this interrogation chair, but he squared up and decided he needed some answers too. "No, I don't understand. So, what do you mean by that? You two and your friend obviously don't like him, but why does that have to do with me?"

"Just that some people at this school are complete scumbags. So, you need to protect yourself by staying away from them and letting us take care of it. It'll be better for everyone this way, Bill."

"Oh, Bill! Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Our brother in Egypt, remember? We told you this some time ago - anyway, what did Malfoy want from you? Not your autograph, I'm sure. Did he ask for anything about-"

"Shush, Fred," George said and put a finger to his lips. "Hear that?"

It did not take any strain for Bilbo to hear it: the movement of individuals in the hallway. "Well, yes, I can, but I don't think it's the people after you two. It sounds more like-"

"Wait, you can hear it?" the twins asked together.

"Uh, yeah? I'm a hobbit, so-"

"Perfect, what are they saying?"

"Uh…" Bilbo swallowed. "Just about classes - potions, that's interesting - and about some girls."

They looked at him in amazement, exchanging glances with each other.

"Bloody hell, Fred, he's good!"

"I couldn't even hear what you were goin' on about at first, but man! And from all the way here too. That's mad!"

"Better than our ear trick, that's for sure."

"Think we can get him to help prank McGonagall again?"

Bilbo groaned when they pressed him for more answers, demanding to know what other abilities hobbits had, if he could assist them with tasks, and scrap information about Malfoy. He was there on that stacked chair in the abandoned classroom with a growling stomach for a long time.

-E-

Hopefully, I get another chapter up before too long, but we'll see what life does! But, please help me out and like and follow this fic! I would love reviews on how I can get better, whether word-crafting or the plot points. I would love to here what you guys think!

Have a golly good day!