((Here's Chapter 2. That's about all I have to say besides please enjoy and review!))

Chapter One: Looking For Group

Harry awoke with a spectacular headache. He had never experienced a hangover, but he imagined it felt something like this. He sat up and looked around. He was in a large forest clearing and the sun was shining brightly through the leaves, creating a warm, greenish glow. He heard birds singing happily all around and saw a keen-eyes red fox watching him from a safe distance. He frowned. These fairy tale forest elements, if nothing else, dispelled the notion that perhaps he had somehow ended up in the Forbidden Forest.

He looked down next to him where Draco lay, staring up at the canopy overhead. His brow was knitted, as if in deep thought. "Uh...Malfoy?"

"Shut up, Potter." Draco said calmly. "I'm trying to wake up."

Harry stared at him. "Uh...You are awake."

Malfoy sighed and gave him a condescending look. "No, I'm not. Because I know that I cannot possibly be laying in a strange forest, with Hogwarts nowhere in sight, and with nobody but you for company. Life just isn't that cruel." With that, he went back to staring up at the trees.

Harry shook his head and stood to see if he could get a better idea of where they might be. There was a dirt road a few feet away which curved around a small hill and ran out of sight. This at least proved that there was some form of civilization nearby. But somehow, this gave him no comfort. He didn't know why, but he got the nasty feeling that he wasn't in England anymore. This was confirmed beyond any possible doubt when four small men came around the bend. They could have looked almost human except for their pointed ears and their large, very hairy feet. They appeared to be in a hurry and kept stealing furtive glances over their shoulders. They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw Harry and Draco.

Malfoy looked up and rolled his eyes. "Christmas Elves. I knew I was dreaming."

Harry kicked him in the shin and walked up slowly to the little men. "Um...Hello." he said.

"What do you want?" asked one, who was rather plump and had sandy blond hair.

Harry raised his hands in what he hoped was a nonthreatening gesture. "Nothing...just...where is this?"

"The Eastfarthing." answered another, who also had blonde hair and a keen, mischievous face. "Hobbiton is down the road some miles that way. Buckland is this way. Although if you're looking for a settlement of Big Folk, we can't help you there."

Hobbiton? Buckland? Harry Potter, what have you gotten into now? he thought. "Then none of you might happen to know where Hogsmeade is, would you?"

The four glanced blankly at each other.

"Guess not."

"If ye don't mind me asking, who might you be?" asked the third. He had light brown hair and he had the look of someone who always seems to be smiling.

"Oh sorry. My name's Harry. Harry Potter. And that...uh..." he looked over at Malfoy who was slapping himself in the face. "Is...uh...Draco Malfoy. What are your names? And not to be rude, but...er...what are you?"

The third smiled proudly. "We, dear sir, are Hobbits of the Shire. My names Peregrin Took but you can call me Pippin. This here is my esteemed cousin, Meriadoc Brandybuck also called Merry. The one glaring at you is Samwise Gamgee and this is Frodo Bag- Ouch!" The one called Merry had just dug his heel into Pippin's toe.

"This is Mr. Underhill." finished Merry. "Well, unless you need anything else, we'd best be...Is he alright?" he asked, pointing at Malfoy.

Harry glanced at his companion. "I'm not sure. I think he's in shock or something. Look, is there somewhere around here where we can send a letter or something?."

Mr. Underhill bit his lip and glanced at the others. Finally, he spoke. "The closest postman is in Crickhollow, where we are going, but I don't think he delivers beyond the borders of the Shire."

Harry bent and picked Malfoy up by his arm. "Well he'll be better than nothing. Do you mind if we travel with you? I don't know the way."

Again the Hobbits looked nervously at each other. "Y-You don't work for the Black Riders, do you?" asked Pippin.

"Black Riders? I have no clue what you're talking about. We're both studying to be Wizards at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Their eyes all lit up. "A wizard! D'you know Gandalf then?" asked Pippin excitedly.

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. I don't think I know anyone here. In fact, I really don't know where 'here' is."

"Well," began Pippin. "This is the Eastfarthing, one of the four Farthings of the Shire in Middle Earth."

Harry still had no clue what any of this meant, but he followed the Hobbits and let Pippin keep talking. Eventually, Draco seemed to snap out of his funk and replaced it with an exceedingly foul mood. Harry introduced him to the Hobbits and told him their destination. Malfoy was less than pleased, but he really didn't want to wander off alone in a strange land.

Near nightfall, they stopped for a bite to eat. The Hobbits happily shared their food with Harry and Draco, though Draco made faces as he ate it. Suddenly, high and far off, they heard a dreadful wail.

"Black Riders!" hissed Sam. They grabbed up their supplies and ran off the road. "Do you see anything?" he asked.

"No, there's nothing." said Frodo.

"What in Slytherin's name is going on? What was that sound?" demanded Malfoy.

Frodo looked up at him and opened his mouth as if to speak, but suddenly Sam yelled, "Get down!" they dropped to their bellies just as a tall dark shape on a horse rounded a bend on the road ahead. It looked around for a moment before going back down the road.

Frodo sighed grimly. "We can't go to Crickhollow. It is already being watched. I have to leave the Shire. Sam and I must get to Bree."

Merry nodded. "Right. Buckleberry Ferry! Follow me!"

Harry had no idea what was going on, but he felt he had to stay with these four. Suddenly, a tall, dark shape burst forth from the trees with a loud screech. Malfoy, Merry, Pippin and Sam immediately ran but the being blocked Frodo and Harry's path.

Harry gasped as he gazed up at the creature. It was at least seven feet tall, not even counting the large black horse it rode upon and it was covered entirely by tattered black robes. As it gazed at them, a biting chill filled the air. This thing had to be some sort of Dementor, Harry decided. He removed his wand from his robes and pointed it at the creature. "Expecto Patronum!" he cried. Immediately, the silvery form of Prongs the Stag leaped from the wand and charged the creature. It screeched and galloped into the trees. Harry grabbed Frodo and ran in the direction the others had gone. They found them at a dock, rapidly untying a raft.

"Hurry, go!" shouted Frodo. They all got on board and pushed off across the river. As they debarked on the other side, they looked back. The shape of a dark figure on a horse could be seen at the dock. Another cry went up and it galloped off. "How far to the nearest crossing?" asked Frodo.

"The Brandywine bridge. Twenty miles." said Merry.

Frodo looked up at Harry. "How was it that you drove off the Black Rider? What was that thing you created?"

"It's called a Patronus. It's basically a spirit made of all the things Dementors...er...Black Riders feed on."

"Didn't faint, did you, Potter?" sneered Malfoy.

Harry ignored him. "Look, I hate to impose, but can we go with you as far as this town, Bree? We might find some answers there."

"How do we know we can trust you?" asked Sam sharply.

Frodo put a hand on his shoulder. "Sam, he saved my life when he had no reason to. If he was working for the Black Riders, he would have just let them have me." He turned to them. "Yes. We would welcome your company." With that, they started off.

It was freezing and raining by the time they reached the gates of Bree. Frodo knocked vigorously, and after a moment, a small porthole opened. A man who looked eerily like Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts, glared at Harry and Malfoy.

"What is it?" he demanded. Harry pointed down. The man looked confused for a moment but then got the idea and opened a hole lower down at Hobbit level. "What do you want?" he asked.

"We're heading for the Prancing Pony." said Frodo.

The man withdrew and opened the door, shining a lamp in their faces. "Hobbits! Four Hobbits! Out of the Shire by your talk. And traveling with two young men. Whereabouts are you from?"

"Uh...England," answered Harry.

The man scrunched his face. "Never heard of it. What business brings all of you to Bree?"

"We wish to stay at the Inn. Our business is our own." said Frodo quickly.

The man stepped aside, surprised at Frodo's forceful answer. "Alright, young sir, I meant no offense. It's my job to answer questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk abroad. Can't be too careful. Oh and if you're headed for the Inn, you'll find that more than just me'll be asking questions." with that, he retreated into his hut.

After walking a ways into the town, they found a place with a sign depicting a fat pony rearing up on its back legs. "Ugh, what a dump!" said Malfoy. "I'm not staying here!"

Harry shrugged as he followed the Hobbits inside. "Do what you like."

Malfoy growled a curse under his breath and glanced down the street. He saw two exceedingly rough-looking men watching him and muttering to each other. With this as his motivation, he quickly followed Harry and shut the door behind him.

They approached the counter, where a beefy, mustached man with a copious belly was washing mugs and muttering to himself.

"Excuse me." said Frodo.

The man looked back at Draco and Harry. "Ah, welcome to the Prancing Pony. My name is Barliman Butterbur. What can I do for you, good sirs?"

"Uh...They're ahead of us." said Harry, pointing down at the Hobbits.

Butterbur leaned over the counter and looked down. "Ah, good evening, little masters. What can I do for you? If you're seeking accommodation, we have some nice, cozy, Hobbit-Sized rooms available. Always proud to cater to the Little Folk, Mr. Uh..."

"Underhill." said Frodo after a pause. "My name's Underhill."

Butterbur looked at him blankly. "Ah...Underhill..."

Frodo looked nervously at the others. "We're friends of Gandalf the Grey, can you tell him we've arrived?"

Butterbur looked even more confused. "Gandalf...Gandalf...Oh yes! I remember! Elderly chap, big gray beard, pointy hat. A very good patron is Mr. Gandalf! But I've not seen him for six months, I'm afraid. Gandalf, now what does that remind me of? Oh well, one thing drives out another and I'm a busy man."

The Hobbits huddled close. "What do we do now?" asked Sam.

Butterbur cleared his throat. "If you're expecting Mr. Gandalf to arrive, you could wait in the Common Room and get a bite to eat. The Hobbits agreed to this and went to their rooms to freshen up.

Harry and Draco approached the counter. "Um...I guess we would like two rooms for the night." said Harry.

"I'm sorry sir, but I've only got one man-sized room left. We've had a lot of visitors come north up the Greenway and there's a troupe of traveling Dwarves come from out east and all."

"Oh my god, we have to share a room?" asked Malfoy, looking disgusted.

Butterbur's face hardened. "You can try to find another inn if you like, sir, but you'll find no better there. By the time you go out and figure that out for yourself, you'll come back here and have nowhere to sleep but the stables."

"We'll take it." said Harry. They both got out a few spare Gold Gallions and set them on the counter.

Butterbur picked one up and inspected it. "Never seen nothing like this. Real gold is it?" Harry nodded. "Alright then. Here's your key. If you'd like, you can join us in the Common Room as well."

"I'm starving." said Malfoy. "Let's go there now. I'll eat whatever it is they're serving at this point." They chose a table and sat. A few minutes later, the Hobbits came in. Harry waved to them and they came over and joined them. Butterbur brought them a loaf of bread for the table and a plate with a bowl of beef stew and some cheese for each of them. Despite his declaration to the contrary, Malfoy complained loud and long about the food. Harry on the other hand dug in immediately.

Merry had gone to the Bar and came back with a triumphant grin on his face. He carried a huge mug.

"What's that?" asked Pippin with awe.

"This, my friend," declared Merry, "is a pint."

Pippin's jaw dropped. "It comes in pints?" Merry voiced an acknowledgment, though his face was engulfed in the mug. "I'm getting one!" said Pippin and took off for the Bar.

"But you've had a whole half already!" said Sam to no avail.

After a few moments, Harry began to get the strange feeling of being watched. He looked around the room before he spotted a man wrapped in a dark, travel-stained cloak sitting in the corner. Though his face was shrouded, he could still see the man's eyes fixed on their table, and most especially at him and Frodo. He nudged Frodo. "There's a man over there staring at us. He's not this Gandalf you've been waiting for, is he?"

Frodo stole a glance over at the corner. "No." he whispered. "I don't know who he is."

Harry saw Butterbur passing by and he stopped him. "Who is that man sitting over there in the corner."

Butterbur looked up but then quickly dropped his head when he saw who Harry meant. "He's one of them Rangers. Dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What his right name is, I've never heard. But 'round here, he's known as Strider."

"Strider..." muttered Frodo. Harry could see him looking at something in his hands and was about to ask him what was wrong when he heard a loud, slightly slurred, but very familiar voice from across the room, "Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins! He's over there! Frodo Baggins! He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side..." Pippin was well into his second pint and it had clearly loosened his tongue.

Malfoy looked confused. "I thought your name was Underhill?"

Frodo shot out of his seat and went over to grab Pippin, but he lost his footing and fell to the floor. Something small and golden flew out of his hand and came back down to land on his finger. Instantly, he vanished.

A collective gasp went up around the room.

"What in the hell just happened?" asked Malfoy.

Harry just shook his head.

The Hobbits' eyes were wide and they were looking fearfully at each other. Pippin shuffled over, trying, and failing, to look inconspicuous.

"Look, there he is!" said Malfoy, pointing over to a corner where Frodo sat, gasping for breath. They started to make their way towards him, but a dark shadow flew out of the corner and grabbed him.

"You draw far too much attention to yourself, 'Mr. Underhill!'" they heard Strider growl menacingly, before hauling Frodo up the stairs.

"OI!" shouted Sam. "We have to stop him!"

Strider threw Frodo to the ground and instantly went over to the window and began snuffing the candles there. "What do you want?" the Hobbit asked, trying to sound brave.

"A little more caution from you." snapped Strider. "That is no trinket you carry."

Frodo's heart leapt into his throat, but he tried to keep his voice calm. "I carry nothing."

Strider snorted. "Indeed." He threw down his hood to reveal a handsome, but weather-beaten face and long black hair. "I can avoid being seen if I wish. But to disappear entirely? That is a rare gift."

Frodo stared at him. "Who are you?"

For a moment, Strider said nothing and only stared out the window. Finally, he asked, "Are you frightened?"

Frodo considered lying, but he knew it would be useless. "...Yes."

Strider turned and walked to him, giving him an intense gaze. "Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you."

There was a tumult of pounding feet outside the door suddenly. Strider whipped his sword out of its sheath, but then found it flying out of his grasp as the door flew open and Harry shouted "Expeliarmus!" In the next instant, Strider found ropes springing out of thin air and wrapping around him as Draco rushed in beside Harry and shouted "Incarcerous!"

"Mr. Frodo, are you alright?" asked Sam, rushing to his master's side.

"Yes Sam, I'm fine."

"Who are you?" asked Harry, not taking his wand off Strider for even a second.

The man glared at him. "As I was about to explain to Frodo, I am friend to Gandalf the Grey."

Frodo studied Strider for a few moments. "Please release him. I believe him."

"What? Are you off your rocker?" asked Malfoy.

"No. I think a servant of the Enemy would look fair but feel foul."

Malfoy sighed. "Well he's foul enough." But he flicked his wand and instantly, the ropes vanished.

Strider got up. "Thank you. Who are you gentlemen that you have such power?"

"My name is Harry Potter. This is Draco Malfoy. We're extremely powerful wizards so you had better not try anything."

Pippin frowned. "I thought you said you were just in train-OW!" This time it was Malfoy who stepped on his foot.

Strider raised an eyebrow at them and then turned back to Frodo. "Your own rooms will not be safe tonight. You can stay in mine."

"Safe?" asked Merry. "Safe from what?"

Strider drew in a deep breath. "You can no longer wait for Gandalf, Frodo. They know you're here now. They are coming."