Chapter 11: The Long Expected Party
Sixty years ago, Bilbo Baggins returned to the Shire a changed Hobbit. He was approaching his eleventy-first birthday and the Shire was buzzing with excitement. Bilbo was growing tired of being bothered by relatives, save his nephew, Frodo Baggins. But the next visitor was not a relative or a distant relation what-so-ever.
"What about very old friends?" An elderly voice, still deep with power and wisdom, asked outside the door. Bilbo undid the locks and let Gandalf enter.
"Would you like some tea? Or maybe something a little stronger; I still got some of the ol' vineyard here. 1462 (AN: can't remember the date, sorry). A very good year; almost as old as I am!" Bilbo said, heading to put Gandalf's hat and staff away.
"No thank you, tea will do." Gandalf said, hitting his head on the chandelier, then on the beam of the entrance to the study. He wasn't as short as he was at school anymore that was sure. Gandalf caught sight of the map of the Lonely Mountains and looked at it, gaining a slight feeling that there was another in the room.
The other presence felt strangely like…Hermione.
"I can make you some biscuits if you like," Bilbo asked, but Gandalf apparated moments later into the kitchen.
"No thank you, Bilbo. I'm fine with just tea."
"Wonderful," Bilbo said, taking a seat at the small table. Gandalf sat as well and talked to Bilbo about the party…and Frodo.
"Frodo expects something."
"Of course he does: he's a Baggins," Bilbo said, pouring the tea into a cup as they talked. Harsh rapping at the door startled Bilbo and he hid behind a banister. Gandalf gave him a strange look and Bilbo replied, "I'm not at home." Looking out the window, silently, Bilbo cursed. "Sackville-Bagginses! The worst of the lot; I've got to get away from these confounded relatives. I want to see mountains again, Gandalf, mountains! Then go somewhere quiet so I can finish my book."
"And what of the ring?"
"It will go to Frodo, as soon as I leave." Bilbo said, taking a bite out of a biscuit. Then his face looked foreworn and sad. "I'm old, Gandalf. I know I don't look it; but I feel it in my bones. I feel thin and stretched. Like butter stretched on too much bread. Every so often, I hear a song, and I almost fall under its enchantment," Bilbo fingered something in his pocket and Gandalf, for a moment heard the music as well, but pushed it to the back of his mind…
The party was a success, save for the mishap with the Weasley Twin reincarnates; Perrigrin Took and Merriadoc Brandibuck (AN: I might have spelled those wrong, but they go by Merry and Pippin anyway.), who go by Merry and Pippin. Gandalf had them washing dishes afterwards.
Finally, the hour of Bilbo's birth was approaching and the guests started urging him to give a speech.
"My dear Bagginses and Boffins; Sackville-Bagginses, Proudfoots—"
"Proud-feet." One Hobbit called out. Bilbo waved his hand as if to silence him.
"Today is my hundred-eleventh birthday!" The group went into a loud applause and Bilbo continued. "I don't know half of you as well as I should and I like less of you half as much as you deserve." The crowd hushed. Bilbo's face, once again, looked strange, tired. Gandalf concentrated and listened intently. "I have to go. I'm afraid to admit that this is the end. I'm going now. Goodbye." Bilbo disappeared.
Gandalf growled and apparated to Bilbo's Hobbit Hole. Bilbo was gathering his things, laughing himself silly.
"I bet you thought that was awfully funny," Gandalf lectured.
Bilbo looked at him slightly guilty. "Come on, Gandalf; didn't you see the look on their faces?"
"There are many magic rings, Bilbo, and none of them should be used likely."
"It was just a bit of fun—oh, you're probably right; as usual," Bilbo said, grabbing some more things and stuffing them into his pockets. "You'll keep an eye on Frodo, won't you?" He said, looking at Gandalf.
"Two eyes, as often as I can spare them," Gandalf replied. "Bilbo, the ring, where is it?"
"On the mantle," Bilbo said, then stopped himself. "No; it's here in my pocket." Bilbo took it out and strange aura surrounded the ring and Bilbo. A black cloud of something. "Strange; I feel no need to part with it."
"The ring belongs to Frodo now," Gandalf said. "Is it so hard to give up?"
"Why, no. I guess. I mean, after all…why shouldn't I keep it? After all, it came to me! It's mine!"
"I think you should give it to Frodo." Gandalf said.
"It's mine!" Bilbo snarled.
"There's no need to be angry," Gandalf said.
"Well, Harry, if I'm angry, it's your fault!" Bilbo shouted, but the words did not belong to Bilbo.
Gandalf stared at Bilbo, trying to figure out what had happened.
"It's mine…my own…my precious…" Bilbo said.
"Precious?" Gandalf asked. His suspicions heightened and he decided that the ring was the Ring; Hermione's Ring…No. Sauron's Ring. "It's been called that before; but not by you."
Bilbo turned around and faced him. "What does it matter to you what I do with my own things?"
"I think you've had that ring long enough," Gandalf said, getting worried.
"You only want it for yourself," Bilbo accused.
"BILBO BAGGINS!!! DO NOT MISTAKE ME FOR A CONJURER OF CHEAP TRICKS!!! I AM NOT TRYING TO ROB YOU!!!" Gandalf's anger melted and he looked at Bilbo with compassion. "I'm trying to help you."
Bilbo looked stricken but nodded and gulped. "You're right; the ring goes to Frodo."
That said, Bilbo and Gandalf bid goodbye…"Bilbo," Gandalf said. Bilbo stopped and looked at Gandalf. "The ring is still in your pocket."
"Oh, right," Bilbo said. Taking out the ring, he began to shake and slowly tilted his hand as to let the ring fall. "Well, I'm off," Bilbo said, then stopped at the gate of his house. "I just thought of an ending for my story," he turned to Gandalf. "'And he lived happily ever after, till the end of his days.'"
"I'm sure you will. Until we meet again, old friend," Gandalf said. Bilbo nodded and headed out. "Until we meet again."
Heading back in, Gandalf saw the ring which seemed to call to him. (AN: there's going to be a slight change to the plot line). Gandalf bent down and the moment his fingers touched the ring, he saw Hermione glaring at him trapped in a ball of fire, which resembled an eye.
"HARRY!" Gandalf stepped away and the vision dispersed.
Hermione's still alive…Gandalf thought. He clenched his fists and sat down looking into the fire, thinking about the past, the present, and the future of Middle Earth if Hermione got the ring back…
