Disclaimers: See Chapter 1 for more info.

Frodo stood up, brushing the sand and dirt off his blue school uniform. How he missed the wardrobe, standing in the hobbit's part of the boys' dormitory. Not that he needed to worry about that now. Where was he? He looked back. The graveyard was a good couple of feet away, but the beach was closer. He massaged his arms, as if to deflect the chill the waves blew in his direction.

He took a few steps closer to the cauldron. The ivory scent inside the black rounded surface drew his attention closer to the pot.

"Come closer…"

There was a voice inside the cauldron. Someone was in there. He had to get whoever it was out of the cauldron. He was inches now to the large pot. He just needed to look inside the cauldron and… WHACK! a jet of white light pierced into Frodo's chest, throwing him backwards in a heap on the sandy ground. The cauldron was alight with orange flames. What had he done? He looked up as best he could. His vision was blurry. There was the orc Ugnâsh, his orc eyes boring into his gaze. In his arms was a wrapped bundle. Frodo could assume this bundle was a baby.

"Ugnâsh," Frodo barely managed to squeak out. "I… how can you…"

"Get me to the cauldron," shrieked a voice hidden in the bundle.

"I'll deal with you soon enough, Baggins," Ugnâsh said, holding his hand out in front of Frodo's line of vision. A flash of light sprang into the hobbit teen's vision, blinding him for a split second and leaving him in a dazed state. Frodo watched helplessly as Ugnâsh dropped the bundle into the cauldron, before setting a long bone into the potion.

"Now to continue the ritual," Ugnâsh said, seething as he chopped his left lower arm into the cauldron. Frodo covered his ears. Ugnâsh's scream was too much to bear. And it wasn't over. The hobbit teen moved backwards, but the effort wasn't enough for the orc to yank a small handful of curly hair from his head. Frodo felt the side of his head where the hair had been. There was a small amount of blood, but it wasn't bad. His gaze veered towards Ugnâsh, only a moment too late, for the orc dropped the hairs into the cauldron.

All at once, Frodo writhed and screamed. The pain was too much to bear. It throbbed inside his head. His body topped over into a heap as the cauldron exploded to life, sending bluish purple smoke into the air. Frodo regained his senses, long enough to watch the being come to life from the cauldron. The tall figure was donned in iron armor. His iron helmet protected his head until he took it off, revealing a fair faced man with long dark hair and piercing yellow eyes. The pain subsided, calming Frodo's skull. And yet, the hobbit teen couldn't have been more enthralled by the man in the iron suit. Frodo gulped. What did this man want? Who was he?

"Sauron," Ugnâsh told the fair tall man, bowing. "My lord."

"Indeed," Sauron huffed. "That regeneration potion works wonders when done right." He asked the orc, "Have my followers come? I know they are scattered abroad many realms. It would do no good to bring them here." He turned to the orc, "But you have done well sending me to this realm. I am nowhere near Middle-earth, and yet I did not go back in time to resume answering improbable questions." He smiled wickedly, even as Ugnâsh waited for his arm to heal. "You had better bandage that arm, my friend. Or I fear you will lose a lot more blood."

"Yes, my lord," Ugnâsh said, bowing.

Frodo crawled away from the scene as best he could. He did not want to get caught… no. Too late. Invisible hands picked him up, turning him around and facing Sauron. How could he have not seen this coming?

"Hmm…" Sauron grinned. "Frodo Baggins, the hobbit who will defeat me one day. But I'm afraid that day could not come sooner. You are the bane that started that wretched quest, ridiculed me in front of everyone…"

"No. What? How could I…" Frodo was cut by Sauron's index finger, placed on his lips.

"No. Shush! I am not done speaking," Sauron released his index finger off the hobbit teen's mouth. "You see, if I am to survive, and therefore change time, I am going to need an assistant to help me achieve this goal. You are valuable to a fault, and therefore are my enemy." He asked, coolly but tense, "Would you like to know what I do with my prisoners when they're behaving properly or are in their rightful places?" He didn't hesitate, stopping Frodo before he could speak or protest. "Ah. They don't show me mercy. So therefore, I must ensure that they don't cause me harm or mischief again."

Frodo wanted to move. Surely, he could get out of this mess. He got the first due to Sauron throwing him to the sandy ground like a tin can. His sides hurt and there was definite bruising on his left cheek. He shook himself off, but his cheek hurt so badly. He sat up and checked the wound. It was a gash. How could he cure it… he tumbled to one side. Sauron was firing spells at him. He had to do something. But what? He dodged another fireball. He knew then what to do.

Frodo scrambled to his feet as best he could. He couldn't have Sauron beat him. "I know hand magic, too, Sauron. You had better…" He was cut off by a bright spell. How he dodged the spell was… no. He could feel his hand surging magic of its own. It was absorbing Sauron's spell. He could do this.

And he did. He jabbed the palms of his hands in the direction of Sauron's spell. The effect worked. Their spells were locked tight, fighting against each other. They were using the same spell, but how? It didn't matter how in this moment. Just that Frodo was gaining momentum to throw the spell right back at the Dark Lord. If only Sauron hadn't thought two steps ahead of him, by casting a fireball spell straight at him. Frodo had to do something now. Break the spell? That seemed to be the only way he could do this without…

"Arrgh!" Frodo screamed. The fireball spell threw him off balance. The spell broke, but not without leaving a reddened wound on his right side. He heard faint laughter. Wait… he faced Sauron. Was he laughing at him or… no. It couldn't. Was he losing? Not quite. But he needed to think about how to escape this place, before Sauron thought of attacking him again.

"Now we finish this, Baggins, Ring-bearer," Sauron said.

"Sauron, how could I defeat your Ring when I don't even know what it looks like," Frodo spoke up.

"Hmm…" Sauron gave it some thought. "You're right." He glared at him. "So we finish this. NOW!"

Frodo stretched forth his hands. Sauron wasn't backing down this time. No. Instead, the Dark Lord was throwing multiple spells at him, trying to throw him off balance. He needed to get out of this place, away from Sauron. He had a plan. The Triwizard Cup. But first, he needed to break free from these spells and get back to Hogwarts. And he had it. In haste, he released the spell, sent towards the cave.

That was it! Sauron and Ugnâsh were distracted. Frodo ran across the beach, got a good distance close to the cup and opened his hand. The cup followed the spell, landing in his hand. The effort worked. He looked back through the blue mist as Sauron charged forward. But the Dark Lord was too late. Frodo had passed into the portkey's world, spun in the air for a split second, then landed on the grassy ground.

There was a crowd of people in a daze, screaming and gasping. Frodo looked up. The cup he had was now with a second Triwizard cup. But how did that happen? He recognized the stands. He was back in the Quiddtich stadium. And lying on the ground was Cedric Diggory. He was dead.