Rolanda swam ashore, crawling from the clear river. It was amazingly clean compared to the bog of sorts they'd gone into in the Forbidden Forest. Looking back over her soggy shoulder, she rolled her eyes at the floundering Sam. Could the kid do anything? she inwardly growled, stalking back into the water for him. A strong hand latched onto his shirt back and she pulled him ashore.

Sam laid there like a drowned rat, gasping for air and spitting up water. His sandy blonde hair was plastered to one side of his head and more than a small amount of water had begun to form a circle around him.

She shook out her own short hair, grateful that a quick shake was enough to keep it from dripping down her back. Not that it mattered that much... she was already soaking.

"You okay?"

Sam nodded. "Good."

It was then that she fished out her wand and dried them both with a quick wave.

The hobbit leapt to his hairy feet, touching his clothes and hair in wonderment. Rolanda scoffed at him, secretly amused and stalked off.

"You coming, blondie?"

Mutely, Sam wondered why Pomona or Filius hadn't come along instead of this hawk eyed slave driver.

Rolanda opened the bundle Pomona had tossed her as they walked. Within it were Minera's glasses, her spare ones at least, her wand, three apples and a jug of pumpkin juice. Oh and some plasters. The latter made the flying instructor wonder if Pomona had been spending her holiday time with Poppy. Honestly, pumpkin juice and plasters?

"What are those?"

She glanced down at Sam, debating her answer.

"Adhesive plasters." Oh what fun to see his plump little face wrinkle with confusion.

"Oh..." like he understood her, Rolanda mused evilly. They walked in silence after that.

"So, you know where we are?"

Sam pointed behind him.

"That's the Brandywine." He beamed, obviously happy to know something the witch didn't. Rolanda snorted.

"And where's the closest uh village?"

Sam fumbled as he tried to place exactly where they were.

"I-I don't know..." he admitted. "I've never been this far."

Rolanda went to make come nasty remark but stopped when she saw his drooping head. Poor kid, just trying to help and she was being a nasty booby.

"It's okay." she awkwardly assured him. "We'll cast a locating spell and find Minerva before you can say, whatever it is you hobbit's say."

That brought a smile to Sam's face and her guilt lessened considerably.

They walked in silence for a bit, using Rolanda's wand as a light, since it was dark. Sam wanted to ask if he could hold onto her somehow, since she kept veering off, but didn't dare poise such a question. Her legs were longer and at the rate she walked if he didn't sprint beside her, he would have been left far behind indeed.

"Would you slow up a bit?"

He could hear the woman's growl as a reply and did have to see her to know she was rolling her eyes.

"Fine. But if we miss her because we're out here turtle crawling, I'm not responsible for what I do to you..."

Sam swallowed thickly, willing his eyes not to fill with tears. He was cold, even with his jacket, feeling the wind cut against him as they went. He was hungry; not having eaten anything since before they'd come and most importantly, he was scared. It was dark and all around them, nasty things seemed to lurk. Shire or not, he felt like he was in a hostile foreign land. "Oh bugger it..."

He bumped into her as she came to a sudden halt.

"Have some juice and an apple, squirt."

At first he thought she was teasing him, until he felt the familiar roundness of the fruit being pressed into his shivering hands. "Stand still and I'll cast a warming charm on ya."

That didn't sound in the least bit pleasant, but he quickly changed his mind as the new warm stole into his very bones. How amazing it was to have this magical power, he thought, wondering if Gandalf used magic as flippantly as these others did when he was alone. After all, Sam knew the elderly wizard was very careful with his magic around others.

The last juicy bit of his apple was still in the chewing process when Rolanda stopped them again.

"This is taking forever and we don't have time for it!" she shouted, kicking a nearby stone. Sam winced, guessing it must have hurt, regardless of her anger. He was proven right by her small exclamation of 'ouch' and she slumping to the ground to check on her injured foot. "Damn rock..." she mumbled, eyes nearly glowing in her wand-light. "Damn shoes... damn Minerva..." He shuffled over to her, peeking at her bleeding toe. "Damn you!" she roared, making him jump back, face turning crimson.

As Sam took several more steps away from the frustrated witch, he stepped on the bundle she'd thrown when kicking the rock. He hesitated, hoping she wouldn't mind or notice as he picked it up.

He found the plasters easily enough, as they were the only thing that could be what they were called. Using the little pruning knife in his back pocket, he cut off a sizable piece and carefully approached his companion.

"Uh..."

She glared at him, mouth falling open when he handed her the bandage. "That'll help?" he asked softly.

Rolanda felt a lump converge on her throat. He really was a nice young man, she thought, taking the plaster.

"Thanks."

He shrugged and she applied it to her toe.

"Well... onward?"

She rose and waved her wand about, looking both silly and powerful in Sam's wide eyes. In fact he was so keen on her movements, that he didn't notice she was speaking to him until after he poked his arm.

"Kid? There, we've got a locating spell in place now. It'll take up straight to Minerva. We'll just apparate there now. No worry about this walking and such. Too cold and muggle."

Sam just nodded, taking her hand when she offered it.

Minerva took a seat in the nearest chair, watching as Frodo hurriedly packed. It didn't seem possible that everything could turn over so quickly. Only a few hours before, they had sat reading and trying to get the other to eat. Now, he had a ring of power that a dark lord would use his every breath to attempt to secure. Somehow it made Minerva want to cry. It was as if she was reliving hearing about the prophecy. She couldn't even look at the young hobbit without thinking of little Harry. Well, not so little anymore. But try as she might, she still pictured him as the gapping first year with Weasley in tow.

"Get out of the Shire. Make for the village Bree." Gandalf was saying, tossing the occasional needed item to Frodo, who was finishing up with his packing already.

"Bree. What about you? Minerva?" He looked concerned from one to the other.

"We'll be waiting for you, at the Inn of the Prancing Pony."

It was sounding surreal to Minerva; yet she still didn't dare think of it as anything other than an unescapable reality.

"And the Ring will be safe there?"

Gandalf looked haggard, worn and tired.

"I don't know Frodo. I don't have any answers. I must see the head of my order. He is both wise and powerful. Trust me Frodo, he'll know what to do. You'll have to leave the name of Baggins behind you, for that name is not safe outside the Shire."

He helped Frodo with his cloak.

"Travel only by day. And stay off the road."

Frodo smiled, slipping the ring into his waistcoat pocket.

"I can cut across country easily enough."

Gandalf nodded, settling his large hands on Frodo's narrow shoulders.

"My dear Frodo. Hobbits really are amazing creatures! You can learn all that there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years, they can still surprise you."

Something rusted and cracked outside of the window; a light glowing faintly that had not glowed there before.

"Get down!" Gandalf hissed, motioning to Minerva to do the same as Frodo hit the floor. The old wizard crossed to the window, peering out carefully. His staff, always readily at hand shot out cracking something or someone on the head.

"Bloody hell!" a woman shrieked as Gandalf dragged first her and then another wiggling form in through the window.

Words escaped him as he stared at the woman, odd enough in appearance and dress and then Sam.

"Minerva!" Rolanda shot to her feet, years of Quidditch falls having made her quick to recover from blows to the head. Or as Severus or Poppy might had teased, not much up there to bother anyway. She embraced the other woman, not caring that another hobbit was staring at her with a 'yikes-you-look-like-a-hippogriff' expression on his face, or that the tall wizard was somberly helping Sam to his feet.

Minerva was too surprised by her friend's sudden and unexpected appearance to react at first. She merely stood there stiffly, until slowly Rolanda backed up to examine her.

"You okay? I mean, everything working good?"

Numbly she nodded.

"How?"

Rolanda shrugged.

"Ack, that? Piece of cake. Oh here..."

Minerva felt her spectacles being pushed into her hands, the very prospect of being able to see clearly again bringing a smile to her face.

"Oh thank you." she murmured, slipping them on. Oddly, Gandalf's confusion was the first thing she was able to focus on. "Rolanda." she pointed out. "This is Gandalf the Grey and Frodo Baggins. She is one of the other teachers of Hogwarts."

This seemed to clear most of Gandalf's wonders, although his fingers did not loosen from the tight knot he had made of them. This new arrival spelt the end of something too far away to even begin.

"Charmed." Rolanda nodded to each. "I'm Rolanda Hooch and that bugger there is Sammy Blondgee."

Frodo smiled at that, although Sam's frown deepened.

"To say that this is an interesting turn of events would hardly due it justice." Gandalf murmured, thoughtfully stroking his thick beard. "Yet I had not desired to send Frodo alone."

"Ah, send him where exactly?" Rolanda asked.

Gandalf gave her a knowing smile.

"You may soon enough find out."

And find out Rolanda did. For although she urged Minerva to help find the bog and be done with the whole affair, the headmistress would not be talked into abandoning her new acquaintances.

So therefore she was educated on all matters surrounding the ring of power, Sauron and enough about Middle Earth to keep her from asking things like 'so we can't fall off eh?'

Gandalf was not keen on the idea of sending Rolanda with Sam and Frodo... but amazingly enough, both Frodo and Sam warmed to the idea of her joining them with greater speed than many would have thought plausible. Especially since Sam and Rolanda had had a less than cordial history, at least on her part. But then again, as soon as the flying instructor had learnt the full history, she became a zealous ally.

"What about Minerva?" she asked, only seconds after they'd finally decided she was to accompany the two hobbits.

Gandalf pursed his lips.

"That must be her own decision."

And though they'd only met ten minutes ago, Rolanda felt respect for the wizard for his obvious care of others.

Three pairs of eyes stared expectantly at Minerva, while Gandalf looked into the dying fire.

He was truly uncertain about what he might have wanted in the situation. Perhaps what he really wanted was for her to go home, where she would be safe. Still, perhaps a touch selfishly, he was glad she had chosen to remain a bit longer. He enjoyed being with her.

Pomona set Filius' tea down, having taken it over to the pot for a refill. In all actuality she could have easily levitated the pot over or even charmed the cup full, but she was distracted, and she did odd things or at least more muggle things when she was.

"Why do you think they haven't returned yet?" she questioned.

The small man sitting opposite her shrugged.

"I haven't the foggiest." Then noticing how her face fell, he hurriedly continued. "But I'm sure, positive in fact, that they are on their way back, even as we speak." He reached to gently pat her hand.

"Why do you think Minerva would... would want to-" Pomona couldn't say it, her eyes watering.

"A great deal has happened." he reminded, firmly but gentle as ever. Filius was of the sort who could say anything in a warm and caring manner. One of the few left in a dark world who found something good in any situation. And for that alone, not mentioning their long friendship, Pomona believed him.

"We should get something to eat." she murmured, rising to her feet.

He nodded.

"Maybe Mr. Filch would like to join us."

And in fact the care taker did desire company.