Disclaimers: See Chapter 1 for more info.

Some of our favorite dwarves make guest appearances in this chapter. :)

Around the start of the summer term, both Frodo and Harry would be prepping for the final Quidditch match. But not this year. The third and final task was coming up, and neither student knew what to expect. On the last week of May, Frodo felt relief wash over him the moment Professor Flitwick told him the details.

"Mr. Baggins, you're to meet with Mr. Bagman on the Quidditch field at nine o' clock tonight," Flitwick said. "Don't be late when you get there. And no shortcuts."

Wow, Frodo thought. Did Flitwick care about him that much? Or was it his safety? Either way, he waited until nine o' clock, before leaving the Ravenclaw Tower and making his way down to the Quidditch pitch. And there they were: Harry and the other Champions, gathered around Bagman. Well, he knew he wasn't playing Quidditch this year. Wait.

"Yes. This is about the Triwizard Tournament, Mr. Baggins," Bagman said, huffed. "What you see before you is for the third and final task. It's pretty straightforward. At one end of the maze is where the Triwizard Cup is to be placed. But I warn you: there will be obstacles you will have to face before reaching the Triwizard Cup. The first champion to touch the cup will be the winner.

"Any questions?" Bagman asked.

"What obstacles will we face?" Frodo asked, concerned.

"When you get to those obstacles, Mr. Baggins, then you will know." Bagman said. "Now, if you won't be needing anything, champions, it's time to head back. Do you and Mr. Potter need an escort?"

"No!" Frodo said. His words didn't sound truthful. Maybe, just this once, he would follow the others back to the castle. "I'll join you."

"Excellent," Bagman said, pleased.

"I'll find my way back on my own," Harry said.

"I vill vollow you," Krum said.

"I'll see you later, Harry," Frodo said, waving to him.

"All right. Bye," Harry said, accompanying Krum through the woods.

At first, Frodo thought he was in good hands. But given that Bagman was with him, there were a million questions he should answer. Not that he asked to be with Bagman or answer his questions. Was he really that famous to deserve such praise? Well, praise was a good thing.

"Well, now that we're back indoors," Bagman said, "I think we part ways here."

Frodo slipped away at first thought, waving to the champions and Bagman for a moment. The things he could tell Aria, including about the Quidditch pitch turning into a maze for the third task. And he arrived in the Ravenclaw common room to find Aria deep in a book. He slid into a chair at the same table she was at, hardly expecting to find Luna joining them.

"Hello Frodo," Luna said.

"Hey Luna," Frodo said, grinning at her.

"That's a nice book you got there, Aria." Luna said, interrupting Aria's reading, "what's it about?"

"Just research," Aria said, "nothing too fancy."

"Let me see that," Frodo said, pulling the book away from her.

"Don't. You'll – now I might just lose the page I was reading," Aria said, glumly.

"The Triwizard Tournament," Frodo said, reading the front cover. He looked up at Aria, just as she snatched it away from him. "Why are you reading about the tournament, when we're already doing it?"

"There's been previous tournaments, Frodo," Aria said. She spoke more calmly, "I found it in the library."

"You authors do a pretty good job of keeping yourselves busy." Luna said.

"Don't we all," Frodo said.

"Well, anyway, I should get back to my studies. I'll see you later," Luna said, waving to them.

"Did you just hear the news?" One authoress said, picking up a fresh newspaper. "Mr. Crouch is in peril. Harry's out in the grounds now, or has returned. Dumbledore's frantic and…"

"What's that about?" Frodo asked Aria, confused.

"It's the author's newscast. An author is chosen and they have news buzzing around inside their head that they have to speak out loud, to update us on current or future events." Aria said. "It's kind of like an oracle, only it's through authors. We're lucky none of us have gotten too mad from it. I could be chosen next to do it. But that wouldn't be a pretty sight."

"Why is that?" Frodo asked her.

"The author that's chosen for the school year has a hard time snapping out of it. Usually it only lasts for a few minutes, but it's not pretty. It's like going mad and you can't stop it from happening. It just does happen for a reason," Aria explained.

"Let's hope it's not you," Frodo said.

"You never know at Hogwarts," she said.

"Even so, we've survived three years of adventures, one of them involving Sauron's diary," he said.

"I remember," she said. "It was awful. I hope I don't have to go through that again."

"Let's hope not," he said. But even he couldn't process what was about to happen next. Frankly, he couldn't help it one bit during Divination class when Professor Trelawney asked him to close his eyes and fall into a hypnosis…

There he was astride a white stag. There were so many trees. They were inside the Forbidden Forest… or rather he was… and there before him was a fair man with dark hair and wearing armor… no. Was that… it was Sauron… he nearly thought it was Voldemort… Sauron was right on top of him… they were in a graveyard now… a potion was being concocted… no! He couldn't… he mustn't…

"Baggins. Mr. Baggins!" Professor Trelawney spoke up. "What did you see? A premonition, perhaps?"

"Just that something's coming," Frodo said. He didn't want to lie. Not now. He returned to his seat, at the same table to as Harry and Ron, hoping the class would end. He was rather surprised Harry stormed out of the classroom. He wished he could do that, but… his foresight seemed like a better option.

He waited until the bell rang, before leaving the classroom.

"Don't feel bad, Frodo," Ron said, "it's not the first time that Trelawney's been wrong."

"That wasn't it," Frodo said.

"Then what?" Ron asked, curious.

"I think what Harry and I saw were visions. Visions of the future, or what's coming," Frodo said. "It's difficult to explain. I'll see you later."

"All right, see you," Ron said, walking away.

Frodo didn't want to leave Ron on a tangent, but then heading to Dumbledore's office seemed like a better option. He was seconds to reaching the gargoyle to the Headmaster's office when Harry came out, his expression confused and pale.

"Harry, do you…" Frodo's voice faded. "What's wrong? What went on up there?"

"I don't know," Harry lied.

"Come on. Surely you…" Frodo was cut off, this time by Harry.

"Listen, I've got to go. But… look, I'll see you later," Harry said, taking off.

Frodo's brow furrowed. Surely there was a way to help his friend. But then, what did go on in Dumbledore's office. Gathering his strength, Frodo said the password to the gargoyle, flew up the stairs and entered Dumbledore's office… only to find Dumbledore present.

"Not you too," Dumbledore said. Frodo stood stiff, confused. Did he know he was coming? "Come here. Look into the Pensieve."

"The what?" Frodo asked, confused. His gaze averted to the stone pedestal amongst an arch of mirrors, standing in the middle of the cabinet. The basin was filled with water, tinted bright blue and white by magic (no doubt it was magic, he thought) and filled with silver threads. For an instant, his thoughts quieted. "What do you want me to do about it, professor?"

"Look into the Pensieve," Dumbledore repeated.

Frodo set his books down, before moving towards the basin. He was confused. "What next?" He received no answer from Dumbledore. And yet, the gold image that came out of the silvery thread drew him in… his head dived until… until his body lurched forward, sucking him into the water and now in the air.

He landed into a chair without so much as a scratch. No way. Where was he? He was inside a cave with several dwarves. And Dumbledore was there, too, with silvery hair. And another figure with a moving eyeball. No way. Mad-Eye Moody was here. And the dwarves were so many. The auburn hair dwarves, father and son, looked prepared to attack the blondish dark haired dwarf standing present before the council.

Frodo was confused. What was this meeting about? Didn't Dumbledore know he was here?

"Professor Dumbledore, I…" Frodo's voice faded. Dumbledore wasn't speaking to him, as if he didn't know he was here. "Professor Dumbledore, it's me, Frodo."

"Glóin!" Mad-Eye Moody called. "Quiet your son, Gimli."

"How dare you?" The younger auburn-haired dwarf exclaimed, brandishing his axe. The older auburn-haired dwarf spoke up, tapping his son on the chest.

"No. Gimli," it must have been Glóin, "that's enough out of you."

"But I really wanted to give him a good whack," Gimli said.

"That's enough, Gimli!" Glóin spoke up, serious. "They are guests here, Moody and Dumbledore."

"Silence!" said a dwarf judge with dark brown hair. He spoke before the blondish dark haired dwarf. "What we have before us is a dwarf whose malice is unchallenged. He is the dwarf allied with the Enemy and should be punished as such. Now I don't expect anything less, but we must find out this dwarf's weak spot." The dwarf judge turned to the blondish dark haired dwarf. "Isn't that right, Râk?"

The blondish dark haired dwarf named Râk slammed his hand on the table. "You know well enough that is no longer my name! The Enemy will come. And you'd best be ready when he does."

Frodo's heart pounded inside his chest. So many things happened all in one instant: Gimli was preparing to attack Râk, the dwarves were in a frantic, Moody had stunned Râk and the dwarf was being sent away, even as Dumbledore stared at him. The blue mist engulfed Frodo's vision. He was pulled back, right into Dumbledore's office, as if the scene he had just witnessed was not his own.

"Right," Dumbledore said. "Let's proceed into the memory. Look again."

"Should I?" Frodo asked. He wasn't sure what would become of them if they did. The next second, he leaned forward into the basin, back into the memory. There was Râk and… wait. Was Râk being imprisoned. He yelped a small yelp. The hand that grabbed his shoulder was Dumbledore's. Wait. How did Dumbledore enter this… dream? Was it a dream?

"What we are looking at is Râk's fate," Dumbledore said.

"I don't understand." Frodo admitted. "Is this a dream? Are we in a dream?"

"We are in a Pensieve. This is one of my memories," Dumbledore said. "And here is where we reach the end of my memory of Râk. One of my memories of him. Here, you see before you, is Râk's escape from his cell."

"Ha!" Râk shouted. "I shall henceforth no longer be called Râk. But Hurok the Great and Terrible. That's a name that should fit my description best. Oh!" The blondish-dark haired dwarf vanished in a slipstream of dark smoke, escaping the premises.

Frodo looked on, expecting to see more. Instead, his body was forced back into the blue water. He moved backwards into Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore was there as well, but the force… Frodo wasn't used to that much pull. Wait. Not unless…

"And there we find our problem." Dumbledore explained. "Râk escaped. It is not known what happened to him."

"I may have an idea," Frodo said. "I've been dreaming about Râk for some time now. Sauron, too, and Ugnâsh. They were inside a cave, beneath a house and close to a cemetery. I'm not sure what this means or how this could all relate. I know something bad is happening."

"Then we must proceed with great care, Frodo," Dumbledore said. "I will look into this. You may go." Frodo wanted to say something more, but he feared as much that he wouldn't get any answers. But why was that? The past three school years, there were answers. But now, even as he prepared to leave the Headmaster's office… "Frodo, good luck to you with the third task."

"I will, professor," Frodo said, exiting through the front wooden door.