He was walking along contently. The sun was shining and Bilbo was filled with the confidence only a new school year could bring. A new leather schoolbag swung over one shoulder, filled with variety of notebooks and carefully selected pens. There was a bounce in his step and a whistle from his lips as he walked, smiling at the carefully tended gardens and houses he passed. This happy mood was quickly destroyed as he was almost run over by Gandalf's motorcycle.
"My dear boy, wherever are you going?" the wizard asked, pulling to a sharp halt.
"To school! Wherever else should I be going?" Bilbo could not help the annoyance spill from his mouth, but what can one expect after nearly been beaten upon the asphalt by a mad accountant.
"Yet you are walking off in the opposite direction," Gandalf said, "Erebor Academy lies half an hour in that direction." He pointed a thin finger behind Bilbo.
The hobbit's face grew pale. The dwarves. He had entirely forgotten, maybe even willed himself to forget. The unexpected party had been over three weeks ago. He had hoped it had all been some terrible dream and as the days had beat on he had become more and more convinced perhaps he had eaten something off that night and had a strange dream. Yet in a way he could not have helped being a trifle disappointed. But there was hope in what was most probably a dream and there was reality. To Bilbo the latter had meant preparing for his first day at the same school he had attended for the past eight years.
"They even left you a message," Gandalf scolded, "Thorin thought you might try to bow out on your contract. Here I am disappointed to see he may have been right. Were you really in such a hurry that you did not see it under the welcome mat?" He pulled a small cream envelope out of his pocket. "Thankfully, I thought to keep an eye on you on your first day."
A tentative hand took the letter

Bilbo, it began in a firm, bold script.

(Thorin would have called you Mr. Baggins, but I fought for calling you by your first name. We are to be classmates and friends after all! But don't mention I wrote you this. Dwalin and I delivered the letter, but we weren't supposed to change or add anything, which is no fun at all.) This was written in the margins, in a playful, thinner hand.

Our sincerest thanks for your offer of assistance, the darker writing resumed, Terms: all utility bills and mortgage payments for 1 Bag End will be forwarded to and paid through the Erebor Academy Host Club bank account. This transaction will be overseen by Mssrs. Gandalf and Dori. All outfit and travel expensis on club business will be automatically compensated for. This is unofficial employment; you will be expected to perform to the best of your ability to retain your placement. We will await your arrival at Music Room Three at 11am sharp, trusting that you will be punctual.
Yours deeply,
Thorin and Co.

(See you there!) the other writer added at the bottom with a hastily drawn smiley face.

"Now you are already late for your first class. Best be off running," Gandalf said.
"But-"
"No time for excuses!"
He was gone in a cloud of exhaust. Bilbo stood coughing in the leftover fumes then proceeded to look down at his wristwatch. 7:40am, he would have to run! Run he did, as fast as he could until he stood puffing in front of grand iron gates entwined with vines and a stylized curved E.
"Bravo!" Balin called, waving at Bilbo. He was leaning coolly against the stone wall, in which the gate was laid. He wore a fitted royal blue suit and a dark blue tie, white shirt with starched collar, and dark leather shoes. A black bag was slung over one shoulder. He managed to hold it with an elegance Bilbo envied. He suddenly felt woefully inadequate in his simple shirt, red fall jacket and bright green pants.
"Let's go then," Balin said grabbing his forearm and gently leading him through the gates. Bilbo had the sudden feeling that he was about to embark on something grand, far grander than himself, and that if he took one step more his life would never be the same. But he had signed a contract and deep down, a Tookish part of him awoke and sent hot flashes of excitement to his brain. So he stepped over the threshold with a nervous gulp. Balin smiled in reassurance.
Bilbo gasped as he entered the school for the first time. His family had been wealthy, but of the type that indulged in small luxuries that matched the humble and bucolic sensibilities of hobbits. This decadence was well over his head. The ceiling extended at least three stories above their heads. He knew the school had multiracial attendance and had expected large facilities, but this was beyond even his own expectations. Men, dwarves and a few hobbits –and were those elves? - flitted about the entrance, chattering amongst themselves. A few cast him curious glances, but turned away when they saw Balin at his side. Under their feet white marble floors were lavishly decorated with lush red carpeting. The walls were painted a dark brown with white decals, and each was covered by a variety of portraits cast in golden frames of people Bilbo did not recognize. On top of gleaming pedestals were ceramic vases of all colors, but mostly blue. Two staircases ascended towards a second floor, their balustrades shiny from the innumerable brushes of student hands. Bilbo found it excessive, but he could not help being awed by the extent of wealth present even if he felt it could have been put to better use.
"I do not believe I shall ever be ready for this."
Balin laughed. "Of course not, it is quite a lot to take in. And you're small and comparatively poor. It'll take stubbornness and a thick skin to fit in here. There are not just the social conflicts of a regular high school to navigate, but the political and economic relationships of families play a large role in student dynamics. I don't much know about the Baggineses, but there are a few hobbits here. Of the Took clan I believe."
"I'm half Took," Bilbo said.
"Oh good! That will give you some importance and lend more credibility to your presence here. I was afraid you might be labeled the 'Durin family pet.'"
Bilbo looked appalled.
"Don't worry. I'm certain you shall quickly make a name for yourself. You will need to, considering who you will be spending most of your time with."
"What do-"
"Bilbo!" Something hit him in the back and he turned to see an excited Fili and Kili behind him. Bilbo raised an eyebrow at their appearance. They wore the same suit as Balin, a large improvement over the jeans and t-shirt ensemble that had graced his house. Both had backpacks, Fili's in red and Kili's in blue. An effort had been made to improve their hair; Fili's golden locks were braided neatly at the sides of his face. Kili's was clean and brushed free of tangles, but whoever had cared for it had obviously given up attempting to tame the mane. It hung loosely around his head.
"We're in your class!" Kili said eagerly.
"Oh." He could not think of what to say. On one hand he was grateful that there would be people he knew. On the other hand he did not know if the seemingly mischievous brothers would be anything but troublesome. He would have much perferred Balin.
"Do you not have a uniform?" Fili looked Bilbo up and down.
"I didn't know . . ."
"I thought he might not, so I brought one." In a fluid motion Balin slipped his pack of his shoulder and bent to open it. He pulled out a package wrapped in white tissue paper and handed it to Bilbo.
"My job was to introduce you and help settle you in, but class starts in five minutes. You don't mind if I go, Bilbo? If you really need me I can stay."
"Go! We'll make sure he gets changed and to class on time," Fili said.
"We got this covered!" Kili added with emphasis.
The older dwarf did not look convinced. "Do you even know what your homeroom is?"
"Uhhhh, 1A something."
"I know it's in the first wing!" Kili volunteered.
Balin looked to Bilbo, judging the hobbit's comfort with the vagueness of the brothers knowledge.
Bilbo sighed, "You don't need to stay. I'm sure we'll find it. Don't want you to be late."
"I hope so." With that he relinquished his power and slung the pack onto his shoulder again. He strode away, casting one last glance behind him, a reassuring smile, and then disappeared into a hallway.
"So where's the bathroom, then?" Bilbo asked.
"I don't know."
"How should we know?"
"We're new here too."
"First year of high school, remember!"
"There's a map over there though . . ."
Bilbo did not feel very confident he would get to class on time.

"Ah you look really handsome, Bilbo!" Fili had said once he had stepped out of the stall. He wondered how Balin had been able to acquire a suit that fit him perfectly and resolved to ask about it later. He peered at himself in the mirror and ran his hands down his torso. Yes he did look rather handsome.
"Okay, I've been looking at this map here," Kili said, "and our classroom is about here, he circled an area with his finger, ". . . I think."
In the end they were only fifteen minutes late. Unfortunately, homeroom was only fifteen minutes long. The teacher had given them a stern talking to, but said that since it was the first day she would give them a first chance and not send a report to the office. Bilbo had thanked her profusely, while Fili and Kili practiced looking apologetic in silence. In response she pushed schedules into their arms and shooed them out of the classroom.
"I can't believe the classes you've been signed up for!" Kili grabbed Bilbo's schedule from his hands. "Uncle must think you're some kind of genius."
Bilbo had been pleased by the schedule. Though he had not chosen the classes they fit his interests and abilities well: elementary Sindarin and Khudzul courses, Biology, Geography, Geometry and freshman Foundations in Literature. Only three of the classes would be shared with Fili and Kili, who did not take a language for they already spoke Khudzul, and were apparently not advanced enough in numbers to escape Algebra.
"I am rather good at studies," he said proudly, then paused, "Wait, Uncle?"
"Oh yeah, Thorin's our Mom's younger brother. It's a bit weird having an Uncle only two years older than you."
"But everyone's saying he's so much more mature. That's why he should inherit."
"That's cause it's true."
"Hey, I am just as mature and majestic as Uncle Thorin!"
"All right Kili whatever you say."
Kili pouted. "With a schedule like that Thorin must know he's extra smart. I bet Uncle already likes the hobbit more than me. That's not fair."
"Like me?" Bilbo asked, "He seemed indifferent if anything."
"Oh no, that was just the party," Fili said, "He didn't know what type of person Gandalf was going to choose. He was surprised. So he tried to hide it, by being stern. He does that a lot. But once he sees how nice you look in that suit he won't be able to resist you. I know I wouldn't."
"You're gonna make the best host ever Bilbo!"
"Yes you will," Fili smirked, "Hey, class is gonna start soon so we got to go. See you at eleven then." He winked then started walking away, a guiding hand on his brother's back pulling Kili with him.
"See you!" Kili called.
Bilbo waved weakly back. Then they were gone and he was surrounded by walls too tall and faces of strangers. For the first time he was all alone in Erebor Academy. Small tendrils of fear creeped up, threatening to strangle his brain, and he had to walk to a nearby window and take several deep breaths to steady himself. He stared out at the blue expanse of sky, which stretched boundless and bright like his future.
"What has your son gotten himself into, Belladonna Took?" he asked the air.