Disclaimer: I do not own this, obviously.

Summary: A Cross-over of Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings. Harry was 'enjoying' a holiday away from Hogwarts when, on his Birthday, he receives an anonymous package which takes him away from the world he knows into a new world and new adventures.

(AUTHORS NOTE: I apologise for how long it has taken t update this story and I feel that I owe all of you who reviewed a reason. I have had problems connecting to the internet and have had major writers block.)

-Chapter Three-

-The Shadows of the Past-

The talk of Bilbo's disappearance continued for many days in the Shire. Some hobbits blamed Gandalf due to the fact that the Wizard disappeared soon after Bilbo, but some blamed Harry because he was new to the area and was lodging in Bag End. It was all beginning to seem like second year all over again. Everywhere Harry went he was stared and glared at. People talked about him behind his back and some talked to old Gaffer Gamgee about him, but Gaffer didn't know that much about him.

However Harry wasn't concerned about the Hobbits rumours, it wasn't anything new to him. No, he was more concerned about the strange visions plaguing his thoughts. Every time he closed his eyes he saw a lidless eye, wreathed in flame through a ring of gold.

He had to get his mind off of the mysterious ring before he did something he knew he would regret. He began reading the scrolls and books in Bag Ends study but soon the ring and eye appeared in his mind and vision again. And so to keep his mind occupied he began gardening but found that it didn't keep him busy enough to keep the visions out of his mind. He then turned to writing but found that he could not think of anything to write about since he didn't want to write about his life. Finally he found his answer in drawing. He began to sketch the world around him and found that he could loose himself in his work and forget all the problems of his life.

He soon had at least thirty sketches of Bag End, Hobbiton and various Hobbits about the Shire that he had sketched when they didn't know he was there. He was actually quite good at his art. He hadn't thought about the ring or the flaming eye since he began sketching.

But ever he felt guilty at taking up the home of his gracious host Frodo. He felt that he was a burden and had imposed himself where he wasn't wanted. However he couldn't leave Bag End because he didn't know anything about this world and he had to wait for Gandalf's return because he was the only one in this world that he knew who could help him.

Gandalf had been gone for about six months when Harry found the solution to his own insecurities. Whilst routing through the parchments in Bilbo's study he stumbled across a map of the shire and the world to the west of that. He saw a wood not far from Hobbiton, where he was now. It seemed the perfect place for him to get away from the rumours and gossip of Hobbits and practice his magic, something that he had been neglecting despite the fact that he and his magic had almost completely adjusted to this world.

So he set out the next day with only food, water, the map, a few parchments, his staff and the promise of returning in a few days.

The Shire was truly a peaceful place, well when you weren't the centre of the hobbit rumours. The tranquillity of the shire was really brought home to him as he walked alone along the road. The peace of the Shires roads were nothing compared to the peace of the woods. Harry found himself to be totally alone and undisturbed. For once in his life he was allowed to be at peace.

For the first day he didn't practice any of his magic at all. He just sat down beside a tree with his parchments and sketched the forests by the end of the first day he had so many drawings that he was out of paper. That night he slept beneath a large oak tree and had one of the best night's sleep he had had since his fourth year, undisturbed by nightmares or the sleepless exhaustion of the last few nights.

When Harry awoke the next day the sun was already high in the sky and the sound of busy and playing hobbits could be heard from the distance. Harry stretched and yawned. He hadn't felt so rested in…well he had never felt so rested. The shire was a truly wonderful place.

That day Harry began to practice his spells. He tried the basic spells, Wingardium Leviosa, Petrificus totalus and many other first year spells. He soon found that the staff worked differently to a wand. Where the wand channelled its user's magic through its magical core and out the other end, the staff worked more as a fulcrum, acting as a stabiliser while allowing the wizards or witch to perform magic either through the staff or with the users own hands.

By the end of the second night he had mastered the first year spells and had begun on the second and third year spells. He slept as well as he had on the first night. The third day and night went as the second had, he had perfected all his second year spells and was half way through his third year spells. On the fourth day he worked hard on his third year spells, more importantly on a certain spell called Expecto Patronum. Not only had he had problems finding a memory happy enough to create a corporeal patronus but he couldn't find the right movements to perform the spell itself. Eventually he decided to move on from the Patronus and focus on the other spells. By the end of the fifth day he had successfully perfected the use of every spell he had tried to use except for the Patronus.

The fifth night found Harry to be restless. All the other nights alone had been peaceful but this night he found that sleep evaded him. He wasn't uncomfortable, nor was he truly awake, he just couldn't sleep. It was almost as if his body was rebelling against his mind and forcing him to be awake.

So Harry lay there, in silence, listening to the sounds of the night. As he lay there he felt his eyes droop, he closed them and began to feel sleep take him. Then suddenly he heard a sound he had never heard before. It was a beautiful sound, soft and soothing and yet it didn't make him want to sleep but woke more. The sound neither grew nor faded but continued in the distance.

He had to find out what it was.

He stood up and grabbed his staff before running towards the source of the sound. He ran and ran without caring about where he was going. He came at last to the forests end and there he saw the most beautiful sight he head ever seen. A long procession of men and women marched westward, all dressed in green robes singing mournfully to themselves. In truth Harry could tell that they weren't human, they were too graceful, too young, beautiful and calming to be human. It was a supremely beautiful and saddening sight. Harry felt a great sorrow fill his heart at each note sang and each step taken. It was strange to think that he was more upset about the westward journey of a group of people he had never met than he was about the death of Cedric or the return of Voldemort, and even to some extent the loss of his godfather.

Harry stayed until the last of the procession had left and the suns first light crept over the eastern horizon. It was time to go back. He had been away from Bag End for almost a week now and felt that it was probably time he made a reappearance there. Perhaps Gandalf was back. He walked back to his small camp in the woods and packed away his items.

The Sun had set and the Moon was high in the Sky when he reached to Hobbiton. Hobbiton was silent, the pub had let out and all or most Hobbits were in bed. Harry crept up to Bag End all too aware of the uncomfortable feeling that this silence held. There was no noise as he approached the front door of Bag End. It was a similar atmosphere to the time a few weeks ago when he had overheard a conversation between Bilbo and Gandalf.

As he came closer to Bag End he saw that the door was ajar. A million thoughts swept through his mind, some fearful and some the complete opposite. For the entire time he had been in the Shire he had been safe and at peace. If ever there was a place that would remain safe, Harry thought, then that place would be here.

He crept forward as silently as he could. He could hear quiet voices from inside Bag End. As he came closer he recognised one as Frodo but the other one he could not make out. He pushed the door open as quietly as he could and crept towards the source of the voices.

Gandalf. That's who the other voice was.

He would have walked into the room at that moment is not for a sudden outburst from Frodo.

"What are you doing!" The Hobbit exclaimed.

"Wait." Gandalf commanded and a short silence followed. There was a crinkling sound followed by a sound like metal scraping on stone. "It's quite cool." The wizard said. "Take it." there was a shuffling sound then the wizard's voice broke the silence again. "Hold it up and look closely."

Again a silence followed. "I cannot read the fiery letters" Frodo said in a quavering voice.

"There are few who can." Gandalf responded. "The letters are Elvish, of an ancient mode, but the language is that of Mordor, which I shall not utter here. But this in the common tongue is what is said, close enough:

One ring to rule them all, One ring to find them,

One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

It is only two lines of a verse long known in Elven-lore:

Three rings for the Elven-Kings under the sky,

Seven for the Dwarf-lords in there halls of stone,

Nine for the mortal men doomed to die,

One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

In the land of Mordor where Shadows lie,

One ring to rule them all, One ring to find them,

One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

In the land of Mordor where shadows lie,"

An uncomfortable silence followed before Gandalf spoke again. This is the Master-ring, the One Ring to rule them all. This is the One Ring that he lost many ages ago, to the great weakening of his power. He greatly desires it-but he must not get it."

The room fell silent for a moment before Frodo suggested they get some tea and the two left. Harry had no idea what Gandalf was talking about. Rings for Elf-kings, Dwarf-lords, mortal-men and Dark Lords. Whatever the ring was Harry was sure that it was trouble. And yet still, if his mind was idle enough, he would crave the ring, want it with every fibre of his being.

Deciding that he would get no where standing alone in a empty part of the hall he retired to his room.

He was alone for hours listening to the quiet murmuring of voices that he could no longer hear the words only noises. After about an hour of this he began to hear raised voices again.

"You must take it!" Frodo shouted desperately.

"DO NOT tempt me Frodo!" Gandalf voice replied equally as desperately before the voices again became quiet. Only one more outburst came before Harry fell asleep but he was too tired to care.

Harry awoke in the early hours in the morning. There was a chill wind in the air and he was restless again.

He dragged himself up from the bed and grabbed his staff before stumbling drowsily into the kitchen to get a snack. He jumped upon entering the room when he found Gandalf sitting in a chair smoking his pipe.

"Your back then?" Gandalf asked in an uncommitted way whilst staring into the fire.

"Erm…yeah." Harry stumbled on his reply.

"You were eavesdropping on Frodo and me." It wasn't a question. Harry didn't answer. He walked into the room and took a seat beside the elder wizard. "You can get into a lot of trouble eavesdropping."

"I know." Harry answered sombrely remembering how Voldemort had tricked him while Harry believed that he was eavesdropping on Deatheater meetings.

They sat in silence for a while before Gandalf spoke again. "The Ring is a powerful thing. It can increase our power beyond even our own greatest desires. If we were to take the ring then we could accomplish almost anything."

"…anything?"

Gandalf nodded. "However it would come at a price."

Harry stared at the Gandalf for a moment. "What kind of price?"

"The ring was forged from the deepest hate and malice of the Dark Lord Sauron. The ring is connected to him; it shares his hate, malice and will to dominate all living things. We could take the ring to do good but though us it would do great and unspeakable evil." Gandalf paused. "It is calling for its master and will try to temp anybody into taking it from Frodo to bring it to Sauron's hand."

"…why are you telling me this?"

"I tell you this Harry because you are tempted by the ring. I know you are for I am also. There are few beings alive in Middle-Earth that can resist the rings call. I have told Frodo to reach Rivendell, for the ring will be safe there for a while. Frodo is as strong a hobbit as I have ever met but he will not make this journey alone." Gandalf turned to look into Harry's eyes. "I want you to help guide him to Rivendell."

"Why me? I don't know anything about this world, I don't even know which direction Rivendell is. Besides I'm tempted by the ring, you said it yourself. How could you trust me not to take the ring for myself." Harry answered. He wasn't against helping Frodo and he wasn't scared of this Sauron, after all he had been fighting a Dark Lord since he was eleven (if you ignore Voldemorts destruction when he was a baby). Harry just didn't want to be controlled again.

Gandalf's eyes returned to the flame. "You told me, when we first met, that you didn't want to be controlled again. I am not trying to control you. However you know how to survive outside this sheltered environment that Frodo has lived in all his life. I worry for him. I would feel more at ease if you would accompany him to Rivendell."

Harry sat in thought for a few minutes. "Why don't you go with him? I mean, if you're that worried about him."

"I must go to Isengard and seek council with the head of my order. Things have been set in motion and I fear that I have been too blinded by my love of hobbit-folk and of Bilbo and Frodo to act in time too stop it. I intend to travel with him from Bree, if all goes well. I would be more at ease if you were with him." Gandalf replied.

Harry again fell silent. "Just to Rivendell? No further than that?" he as sceptically.

"No further." Gandalf agreed.

After a pause Harry agreed. They spent the rest of that early morning planning their route to Rivendell. Frodo awoke and, after a quick breakfast, they began to pack their things for travel. Sam Gamgee arrived mid-morning and by mid-afternoon they were a good way away from Bag End off the road and in a fairly wooded area.

The time soon came for Gandalf to leave. Before climbing on his horse and riding away he spoke to them. "Is it safe?" he asked Frodo. Frodo placed a hand over the pocket the ring was it. "Take care, all of you. The enemy has many spies, birds, beasts. Never forget Frodo that the ring wants to return to its master. It wants to be found."

And with that he leapt on his horse and rode off through the trees. And so Harry began his journey towards Rivendell with two Hobbits as his only companions and the current source of his torment in the top pocket of a Hobbit he was supposed to protect. Added to the fact that he had little to no idea how to reach Rivendell safely and for all he knew his world could be falling apart while he was here babysitting hobbits while his only chance to return to his world rode off in a completely different direction.

Why was it that his life always seemed to get worse?

-End Chapter Three-

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