Meeting Hobbits

Night-time had fallen, and Strider had been downstairs for quite a while, awaiting the arrival of the four Hobbits. Severus had swung around his new blade until his arms had grown tired, and yet he felt foolish for doing so, as he didn't know anything about the art of sword fighting. He could hear the sound of many clinking glasses, and songs being sang, and it reminded him of the feasts at Hogwarts he had always tried to avoid, had it not been for Lily dragging him back to the Great Hall so she could toast with him to a good and adventurous life.
And adventures they've had. Their trips to Diagon Alley, shoving ingredients from the apothecary in their pockets when the shop owner wasn't looking. Listening to the records Lily had collected over the years. Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page shredding his guitar in the background as they read through her collection of books. And, although she didn't know, also Petunia's books. Hot summer days spent by Cokeworth's riverbank underneath the bridge that divided the town in a wealthy North and an impoverished South. Smoking weed that was sold to them by some street dealer. Riding on her family's horse at full speed through Cokeworth's busy shopping street. Helping Lily and her sister out to plant a magical garden. Turning the herbs into a tea that made their families fall asleep. Tiptoeing out of their homes to go on late-night strolls. Sneaking into the school's kitchens past curfew. Pulling pranks on the Marauders. Nearly missing the school train on purpose. Braiding her hair because she wanted to look like a viking warrior. Floating right above her, their bodies nearly touching as she laid there on the bottom of the Great Lake.

The slamming of a door pulled Severus away from the private darkness of the deep Lake. Strider hushed the four Hobbits inside, and all four seemed rather disgruntled by everything that was happening. Various shades of curly brown hair seemed to be a common trait among them. Like all the other Hobbits he had encountered, their feet were abnormally hairy and they walked barefoot. They were no taller than primary school children, yet in their faces he could see they were clearly grown-up men. One was holding a letter tightly against his chest, and eyed him with great suspicion. The others had their arms filled with bags and woolen blankets. 'This is Severus,' Strider said as he nodded in his direction. Polite greetings were muttered at him. 'The one I mentioned before. He's one of my own kin – and that's all you need to know for now, for we will have plenty of time to come to get acquainted. He will accompany us to Rivendell. As I have explained before, we shall first head out for Weathertop, as it is less than halfway between here and Rivendell. Master Meriadoc has informed us that the Black Riders are upon us, and it will not be long until they are here. Tonight, we shall stay in this room, for the Black Riders expect you to be elsewhere. Mister Butterbur has prepared your other room to make it look as though you are still in it. ' Strider handed each Hobbit their own barrow-blade that he had taken from the Barrow-downs, and they looked like full-sized and heavy sword in their hands. Not very unlike Severus, they seemed lost on what to do with them. 'Let's hope there will be no need for blades tonight,' he continued as he build up the fire in the fireplace and blew out the candles. 'Get comfortable, and rest as much as you can. Severus and I will watch over you.'

Severus held many questions, but a mere glance from Strider was enough to understand that any questions would have to wait until the Hobbits had gone to sleep. The Hobbits may not feel comfortable enough to speak with him yet, but they were certainly chatty among themselves as they prepped their blankets and stretched their feet towards the fire. They recalled the songs they had sang, and spoke fondly of the Shire. Now sitting in the armchair, Severus listened attentively when Tom Bombadil was mentioned, who seemed to have saved them in the Old Forest from a Huorn, whom they called Old Man Willow, and who had cast a spell on them that had made them fall asleep. It was also Tom that had guided them through the Barrow-downs, where they had been trapped by a Barrow-wight. This is the point Severus figured he must have caught up with them, having heard strange voices echo through the Barrow-downs, and arrived in Bree before they did. Their voices got softer as the conversation turned to the mushrooms they used the steal from farmer Maggot's land when they were younger, and how the farmer had brought them to the Bucklebury Ferry to keep them away from a strange rider he had encountered. After some yawns, one by one, the Hobbits fell into a slumber.

Once certain that the Hobbits were asleep, Strider, who had taken a different chair by the door, looked at Severus. 'They are an unspoiled People,' he said softly. 'Gentle in life and at peace with the land they live on. The Shire is unlike any other place here in Middle-earth, and many of us would do well to learn from their humble nature.'

Severus looked down at the sleeping Hobbits, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of them yet – other than the fact that they were talkative and seemingly harmless. 'I still don't quite understand what's so important about them,' he said. 'Or at least not what's so special about these four. Is it just the letter that the oldest one is clutching?'

'The letter is not the thing of most importance in here,' Strider explained. 'It was addressed to Frodo by Gandalf, left in mister Butterbur's care by him back in late June, stating that bad news had reached him and hoped to meet in Rivendell; hence why we must go there.'

'I've heard of Rivendell,' said Severus as he carefully placed another log onto the fire. 'Or I've heard Elves around here speak of it, at least. Are you certain that that is where Gandalf will be?'

'Nothing is certain,' Strider answered. 'It is as I feared. That something greater has forced his hand indeed, and had to stray from the path he had laid out for us. Whether he will be in Rivendell, we can only hope. I can tell you that even if the Wizard is not there, Master Elrond will be. He is the Lord of Rivendell, and considered mighty and wise among both Elves and Men. News from across the realm travels fast to his halls. Perhaps any news of your friend will have reached him too.'

It rekindled a spark of hope in Severus' heart, learning that not all had to depend on the Wizard to continue his search for Lily. 'How long will it take for us to get there?'

'It's over three hundred miles from here, as the crow flies,' said Strider. 'It can be done within a fortnight, but considering the company, I doubt we will make it within that time-frame.'

The little spark of hope in his heart dimmed a bit. He did not expect Rivendell to be around the corner, but Strider was speaking of a distance that he only knew was about as far as the school's train ride from London to Hogsmeade. Only this time there would be no train. 'I have no supplies,' he said, unsure of what to say otherwise.

'That can be arranged,' Strider answered matter-of-factly. 'Are you hearing what I'm hearing?'

In the far distance, the faint sound of a horn being blown could be heard, as well as galloping hoofs, though nearly drowned out by the noise of the whistling wind. 'That is a Horn-call to raise alarm,' Strider explained. 'The Nazgûl are coming.'

The sound of the horn was eerie in the wind, and a shiver ran up and down his spine at the thought of what was coming at them. The questions that had been festering on his tongue all evening came pouring out. 'Could you tell me more about these Nazgûl? And what is it that these Hobbits have that they are after? Who is this Sauron you spoke of earlier?'

'Truly not from here, aren't you,' Strider huffed. 'Sauron's name is woven into the fabric of Middle-earth all the way back to the Years of the Lamps. There is much that you may learn about his origins, and the road he walked that brought him to where he is, but for now you must know this. The Dark Lord Sauron only desires one thing. He has a constant strive for order and perfection, and wants to achieve it so by dominating the minds and wills of all creatures on Middle-earth. He has been gathering strength, and soon his armies will come pouring out from the East and into the West. The Nazgûl are his most trusted servants. Once great Kings, he ensnared them, and under his power they remain trapped until the end of the Dark Lord's rule. They are here looking for the one thing the Dark Lord wants, but it is not for me to reveal what that is.'

Severus looked down at the Hobbits again, and the oldest one seemed to be roused by the Horn-call. The mention of a powerful Dark Lord frightened him, and the Nazgûl being their most loyal servants made him draw a parallel between his life in England and whatever life he had in these strange lands. 'Rest your eyes,' Strider said, as though he caught on to his distress. 'The less attention we draw to ourselves, the better. This night will be over soon, and we have a long road ahead of us.'

If we ever make it through the night, he thought to himself. He clutched the hilt of his blade that rested on his lap, ready to be drawn. After drawing several deep breaths, he closed his eyes. He may not be able to sleep, but at least he could try to savour some energy for when it was needed.

No sound but the wind remained.

...o0o…

The next morning it became evident that the Nazgûl had found their way inside, and had turned the room upside down that the Hobbits had previously been staying in. Not only was everything in the room torn to pieces, but also the ponies from the innkeeper's stables had been released and were nowhere to be found. Feeling terrible about the whole ordeal, Mr. Butterbur bought the only pony that was still available in the whole of Bree. It was old and skinny, and looked as if it could give in at any given moment.

As Strider and the Hobbits prepared themselves to leave, Severus made his way around town in search of supplies, using the silver pieces Goldberry had given him. He figured it wouldn't be much different from the usual camping he's done. Before attending Hogwarts, his father had frequently taken him to the woods, whether it be the height of summer or the depth of winter, and taught him the basics of surviving the outdoors. Out in the woods were the only times Severus remembered his father not having an overpowering presence. It was a place where he was calm, reserved – and perhaps even a little bit at peace. A place where he was not constantly looking over his shoulder, and taught Severus to make fires, set up fishing lines in the river, learning about the edible things that the forest offered, and the importance of staying warm, amongst many other things. The survival of nature's elements had been his father's magic, and it all faded away with the arrival of Severus' acceptance letter to Hogwarts.

'Found everything you need, Severus?' asked Pippin. In the morning all four Hobbits, relieved that they had survived the night nor had been killed by the two strange men they had only just met, had taken more time to formally introduce themselves. Peregrin Took, the youngest of the group by far, seemed to have taken a linking in him.

'I think I do, Pippin,' he answered as he stashed the canvas pins and dwarven tinderbox he had bought from the town's blacksmith into his new leather backpack. 'I'm running out of silver pieces, though.'

'I wouldn't worry too much about that,' Pippin said with far too broad a smile, and reminded Severus a bit of a clueless Hufflepuff. 'Strider told me to come and fetch you. We're talking the main road down to the South-gate and head towards Archet – where-ever that is, and then not go through it, but around it. There's also talk of passing through marshes and wild lands, which sound a bit unpleasant to be honest.'

A bit unpleasant sounded like an understatement to Severus. All of the lightweight supplies were now in his backpack, and the rest he left for the poor pony to carry. 'And what about Sam?' he said as he nodded his way over to where Samwise was standing. 'You think he'll stop looking at me like that at some point?'

Sam was scratching the pony behind his ears, but his eyes, still filled with suspicion, were fixed on Severus. 'Sam's very protective of Frodo,' Pippin said with a pat against Severus' lower back. 'Just give it some time, and he'll open up to you.'

Merry signalled to them that it was time to leave, and Severus and Pippin joined the rest as they walked their way towards the South-gate. With Strider in the lead, they followed the Great East Road for several miles and curved around the feet of Bree-hill, where it began to run downwards into wooded country. After a while they left the open Road and followed a narrow track that would lead them to the wild lands East of Archet.

Severus was the last in line and looking at the changing landscape with fascination. Unspoiled and untouched by machine minds and machine hearts. A landscape his father would have loved, and had often been outraged at all the factories that were sprouting like toadstools from the ground. He had been working for the very thing he hated for many years.

Frodo had taken a few steps back from Strider and the other Hobbits, who were happily chatting away, and seemed to wait until only Severus was within earshot. 'What is your role in all of this?' he asked Severus. He spoke in a kind manner.

'I could ask you the same thing,' Severus answered stiffly.

Frodo responded with a smile at Severus's bitter response. 'We all have our destinies set our for us – even if it is dark and unknown. I know that you are looking for your friend, but that is not what I am referring to. I can see that Ring on your finger, and yet no-one else here seems to be able to. You're hiding it, even from Strider. Why?'

Severus thought for a moment, and then stopped dead in his tracks. 'How is it you can see this Ring?' he asked as he looked down at Frodo.

'Because I, too, carry a Ring.' Frodo spoke softly. 'Though it is better for me not to wear it on my finger. Is it also your mission to bring yours to Rivendell?'

'I don't quite know the meaning of this Ring yet,' said Severus as he fumbled around with it, 'aside from what Goldberry had told me. Perhaps there are people in Rivendell who can help me understand.'

'Then we better keep going,' said Frodo with some new-found courage. 'For I wish for you to find your friend, and for I wish for myself to return to the comforts of my home.'

A/N In the movies they made it seem like Aragorn meeting the hobbits in Bree was entirely by chance. In the lore, coincidence does not actually exist and everything happens for a reason. In the book, Aragorn didn't just meet Frodo in Bree; he followed the hobbits there from the point at which they returned to the Road from the Barrow-Downs. Aragorn had been watching the Road for them and was expecting them. He overheard their last words to Tom Bombadil.

After Aragorn had found Gollum and delivered him to the Elves of Mirkwood (where Legolas is from), Gandalf came and talked to him there. At that point they learned that Gollum had revealed the existence of the Shire to Sauron under torture, and also Bilbo's name. They went back to the Shire to warn Frodo to get out. Aragorn returned to watching it with the rest of the Rangers, but he knew that Gandalf would be counselling Frodo to go to Rivendell, so that's why he was watching the Road. He was the dark figure that climbed over the gate behind them at Bree.

A/N Led Zeppelin is a little wink to Severus Snape and the Art of War, but also because Led Zeppelin wrote several songs inspired by The Lord of the Rings. On Led Zeppelin II is Ramble On, and on Led Zeppelin IV is the Misty Mountain Hop and The Battle of Evermore.

A/N I can't measure out exact distances being travelled, but thankfully there are much bigger nerds on the internet that can figure it out for me. From Bree to Rivendell is roughly 370 miles, which is about the equivalent of travelling from London to Edinburgh. As the Crow Flies simply means the mileage in a straight line, which is roughly 310 miles.

A/N The Horn-call is the Brandybucks blowing the Horn of Buckland.

A/N The Three (now four) elven Rings of Power are invisible on the wearers hand. They are only visible to other Ring bearers, which is why Frodo could see Galadriel's Ring Nenya on her finger, and Sam couldn't.

A/N Birthdays: Frodo Baggins – September 22, TA 2968. Samwise Gamgee – April 6, TA 2980. Meriadoc Brandybuck – TA 2982. Peregrin Took – Spring TA 2990.

A/N Just for the sake of time reference. In the books, the Hobbits met Aragorn in Bree on the 29th of September, in the Third Age 3018. To keep myself sane, the 29th of September 3018 in Middle-Earth equals the 29th of September 1977 in the UK. I also use the moon's phases from 1977 UK.
The letter from Gandalf addressed to Frodo in Bree is opened with the following sentence: "The Prancing Pony, Bree. Midyear's Day, Shire Year, 1418. Midyear's Day is the 22nd of June. Hobbits have a different calendar system called the Shire-reckoning.