Hello Everyone!

This story now has over 100 follower yayy! :D Thank you to all those who have chosen to follow, favourite and review as it is a great motivator for me to keep writing :)

Here is the chapter I promised as an apology for updating a day late.

Chapter 9 – Bywater & an Unexpected Guest

The late afternoon sun was waning over the horizon its rays of light glimmered in the growing darkness as the sky's painted array of pink, orange and yellow faded into deep purple and midnight blue. The air had begun to cool when Hermione reached Bywater. Gandalf had gone on ahead to guide the dwarves a few hours ago, leaving Hermione to her thoughts after instructing her to just continue following the path. She had marvelled at the beauty of this place which Gandalf had informed her was called the Shire. Hermione stumbled along as she kept to the tree line along the path as to not scare any of the locals with her battle torn appearance. The lack of food was starting to take its toll, she could feel her mind becoming weary and her legs felt like weights with every step she took.

The locals, she thought at first, were just little children playing around, however she soon learned the closer she came to Hobbiton, that they weren't children but even smaller full grown adults. Their children were so small, like toddlers. The adults were at least a foot smaller than most of the dwarves she saw earlier, except maybe for the one who was knitting he was quite a bit shorter than the other dwarves.

'Welcome to Bywater' the sign said in bright green letters just up ahead. A neighbouring village to her destination of Hobbiton. Gandalf had mentioned this village to Hermione saying that it was situated on the East Road along a natural pool in the stream called The Water, a river running through the centre of the Shire.

Unfortunately for Hermione the tree line ended just a few metres from the village, meaning she would have to clean herself up here rather than at the Green Dragon as she had planned earlier with Gandalf. Hermione must have also walked faster than expected as Gandalf had predicted her to arrive after dark when all the hobbits would be eating dinner at home making the streets clear for her to make a beeline for the inn. She surveyed her surroundings and noticed that a few metres to her left the tree line went straight to the edge of the water. She hurried to edge of the bank and leaned over the water.

Looking back up at her was a battered and bruised face. Her hair had almost entirely fallen out of its plait, it was a badly knotted, frizzy mess, her face was still smeared with ash, soot and dried blood. Her clothing was torn and skewed, her lower lip was stained with blood from the blow she took to the jaw during the battle. But what shocked Hermione the most was the expression her own eyes held. They were so cold that she felt a shiver run down her spin looking into her own pained eyes. There were no longer a warm, gentle, liquid brown, but dark brown cold with emotion. She sat there and waited, watching as the expression in her eyes slowly warmed from their icy demeanour until she could see a little bit of her old self in them again.

Her stomach began to stir with determination, she knew there was no time to be selfish and wallow in her grief, she had a task to complete, there were people who needed her help. So she scooped up the water, which was still slightly warm from the setting sun and splashed her face. She closed her eyes at the cool sensation as it ran down her neck soaking the collar of her shirt. She continued to scrub her extremities until her skin was blood and dirt free.

"Tergeo," she whispered, erasing all the stains and blemishes from her clothes. Hermione re-plaited gradually unknotted her hair magically while she pondered what she could possibly wear in this land, leaving her hair free to fall over her shoulders in soft but slightly frizzy curls. All the women she had seen thus far were wearing dresses, that looked rather layered and inconvenient. She remembered she had her beaded bag with her, which luckily contained most of Harry's, Ron's & her belongings from those many months hunting horcruxes although their clothing could have been left behind, the tent, textbooks and the few extra items that she collected before coming to this world would surely come in handy at some point.

"Accio." Out flew a pair of cream pants that she had patched up during their travels which looked surprisingly appropriate, a long-sleeved off-white blouse and a light brown leather vest that Luna bought her for her 17th birthday, which Hermione thought would suit this time quite well.

"Thank you Luna for your interesting taste in vests," she said while putting on the vest thinking of how the dwarves also wore vests like this one, except the neckline on theirs were lined with fur. So Hermione began to transfigure the top of her vest. Wolf-like fur began to spurt out of the seams until her neck, shoulders and upper chest were surrounded by fur, like she was wearing a small furry animal around her neck. Now more satisfied with her appearance, Hermione put her bag back on and emerged onto the path. No longer needing to hide amongst the trees she continued on her way.

…

Meanwhile in Hobbiton

Bilbo Baggins had just calmed himself down with a bath after the trying day he had had. He was still fairly young, but like many hobbits, he was very fond of food and found himself re-tailoring his breeches more often than he liked to admit, he mused while cooking his dinner.

"Completely irresponsible." He huffed but in spite of himself, he looked across into his study seeing all the maps and books that he had read scattered across his desk. Deep in the pit of his stomach he had a stirring feeling that maybe a little adventure might do him some good, like the old wizard had said.

"Adventures! No thank you!" he exclaimed to the empty room disregarding the fleeting disappointment when he said it, as he finished dishing up his fish with a greedy smile on his face. Bilbo grabbed a nice lemon and squeezed it over the succulent fish, his stomach began to rumble as though sensing the proximity of the food. Just as Bilbo was about to take his first bite there was a rather rough knock at the door.

Frowning as he went, Bilbo made his way to it mumbling about it being an unsuitable hour for visiting. Unfortunately for Bilbo, nothing his mother had taught him about manners could have prepared him for who stood beyond the door. His jaw dropped as he gawked at the rather large and intimidating, balding dwarf standing before him. Bilbo swallowed deeply as his eyes were drawn to the many visible weapons.

"Dwalin, at your service." The intimidating dwarf said gruffly. He bowed deeply, Bilbo in a flustered state had no idea why this man was at his door but returned the bow more out of shock than manners.

"Bilbo Baggins, at your service." Bilbo said suddenly as he realised he had been staring, he cleared his throat as he remembered his manners. Bilbo backed away as Dwalin invited himself in and made his way through Bag End.

"Um, excuse me!" piped up Bilbo, growing rather annoyed at the dwarf audacity of inviting himself into his home, "But, do we know each other?"

"No. Is it down here then, Laddie?" Dwalin said.

Bilbo followed Dwalin down the corridor confused, "Is what down where, exactly?"

The dwarf looked over his shoulder down at the little hobbit as he removed his cloak,

"Supper of course! He said there'd be food." Then he turned towards the kitchen and threw his cloak at Bilbo, who had absolutely no idea as to what was going on. He fumbled under the mass of fabric, the smell of sweat assaulted his now pinched nose

"He said… Who said?" Bilbo pondered aloud as he hung up the filthy cloak. Bilbo was regretting answering the door and desperately hoped that the dwarf hadn't helped himself as he scurried up the corridor. Bilbo burst into the kitchen only to find Dwalin biting the head clean off his supper. Bilbo plonked himself down in a neighbouring chair and pouted as he watched the dwarf demolish his delicious smelling dinner, he could feel his stomach clench at the smell.

"It's good, this." The dwarf said through his last mouthful of fish, "Got any more?"

"What ah, oh… Yes, Yes." Bilbo stuttered grabbing a plate of cakes that were freshly baked that morning, he pocketed two before handing it over as he realised that he would probably be going without dinner tonight.

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