Ah yes, Hogwarts held good memories, both of his own academic days with his dear friends (some of which were not so dear any longer, not to mention a certain ratty type), and of his new found companions, especially the pro biker from the Muggle world, Lance Armstrong, and the astronomy teacher and his grade-school sweetheart, Adhara Sinistra. Dwelling also at the school was his godson and his band of troops, the famous Harry Potter, never to be seen without sidekicks Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Of the recent, he had not seen nor heard from any of them, but as he was moving around a lot, they could hardly be blamed.
Ever since receiving Dumbledore�s last owl, requesting that he castle-sit while Dumbledore went on a vacation (an all expenses paid self-drive tour of New Zealand he won from some Muggle offer), Sirius had never been quite as cheerful, or had quite the same amount of gold in a pocket. Still, it would only be a matter of a few weeks before he could hold one of his infamous parties in a big old castle and have another great blast . . . ah, the ways a wanted man could spend his last days of freedom! Twirling wand in one hand, Sirius continued to hum his little tune and knew that nothing along the path would bother him, for he knew these woods as well as the back of his hand, and he knew that pretty well.
Having started his journey in the morning which had been a whole solar journey ago, Sirius surveyed the coming night and decided that there probably wouldn�t be an inn to sleep in that night. Nevertheless, it would not be that horrible, for his keen eyes had spotted a fresh food source, which would supplement his dinner. Gently setting down his pack beneath a rather large elm, he proceeded to examine a lovely patch of white mushrooms poking up from the dark humus of the earth. Rather tasty. Sirius grinned to himself, thinking that a nice stew would be nice, and he could retire early, and perhaps read a few chapters of the latest novel he had started. Yes, that would make a wonderful end to a wonderful day. Alas, the events which would happen next would not be as wonderful as expected.
With a small sniffle to himself, Sirius wondered if he was catching a cold, and brought his cloak about his shoulders as he knelt by the mushrooms, selecting the best and popping them into a brown paper bag (the best way to store raw mushrooms). Perhaps a light stew with tomatoes and some herbs . . . and some scrambled eggs and crispy bacon to break the next morning�s fast! Sirius was liking every moment of this, as he hurried and finished picking his mushrooms. Grabbing the rest of his belongings, he moved to a rather comfy spot a little while off, and made both a fire and a soft resting spot atop some moss.
Looking up, Sirius breathed in deeply the warm sweet scent of cooking mushroom stew intermingling with the slightly chilly night air. Fireflies flitted in the distance, and small studs of diamonds lay scattered upon the dark velvet of night. If only Adhara were here to see this. Sirius hugged his knees to himself instead, and extracted his current reading material from his bundle and began to read.
Although some may sit by their campfire, absorbed in their novel and oblivious to the world, Sirius was obviously not one of those types. The far off snapping of a twig had him on his feet and wand drawn, eyes searching the darkness. His heart raced and he wondered if he would have a better chance if he quickly used a few Animagi skills and dropped onto all fours as a large black dog. Perhaps not. He was a perfectly capable wizard. Sort of. Aside from the time he reversed the s and the f in a spell and found himself with a buffalo sitting on his chest. Alas, we all make mistakes once in a while.
"Alright, it�s time for the obvious . . ." Sirius murmured to himself and hollered, "Who crawls about on a night as dark as this? Be you a friend or a foe, my fire is welcome to you, as the evening and the accompanying chill has arrived."
"Oh! How merry!" He blinked twice as a figure swathed in wizarding robes of gray stumbled into his camp, across from the fire, "I never knew you liked mushrooms, Strider!"
"Whom?" Sirius sputtered as he spooned out some stew into a spare paper plate and handed it to the other, whose weathered face lit up into a smile as the warm food was placed in his hands, "Sir, I don�t believe I know you!"
"Ah, have you forgotten already? Must have got knocked about a few too many times by those nasty orcs," The wizard reached for Sirius�s loaf of bread which he handed over, "So you are on your way to . . . ?"
"Hogwarts," Taking his bread back, Sirius stared, "I still don�t believe I know you," He hastily added, "Sir."
"Oh." The other looked genuinely concerned, "Are you sure?"
"I�ve never seen you before in my life!" Sirius shook his head and wondered what on earth an orc was, "And what is an orc?"
"Hmm, maybe it is time you saw a healer," Although Sirius knew a great healer, he kept silent as the wizard took the rest of his stew, "You haven�t forgotten that you are on your way to Bree now, have you?"
"Yes, I suppose I have." Sirius stammered, "Sir, I have no idea what you are talking about!"
"Strider, now, that�s enough of that." The other glared back, "I never knew you liked mushrooms."
"I do like mushrooms! I�ve always liked mushrooms!" Sirius continued, "And I�m not Strider! And I have no hot stinking clue who you are!"
"Well, you do seem to be hot and stinking," The wizard seemed amused, and Sirius stared down at his travel stained self, "I would recommend some shampoo." Sirius remained silent. "Alright, I trust you do not what to see my wrath!" Since wizards angered rather easily (he was one himself) Sirius shook his head, "Fine. You know your mission. Go and do it."
"What do you want from me?!" Sirius finally stammered, "Just go to some place called Bree? Well, I hate to tell you, but I have a previous engagement!"
"Oh yes, well," The other looked embarrassed, slightly, "I�m sure she�ll wait for you. All elves are rather patient."
"My previous engagement involves a castle, and not an elf." Sirius sniffled, and picked up his book, "Now if you�ll excuse me . . . ?"
"No, I certainly will not." The wizard�s eyes narrowed and lost their sparkle, dark pools of thought stared into Sirius�s own, "Do you honestly have no idea what I am talking about? Who are you then?"
"I am Sirius Black, convicted murderer and sentenced to a life sentence in Azkaban." Sirius decided not to lie. Wizards had built-in lie-detectors in their brains. "However, I did escape and have been acting as castle-sitter for my dear friend Albus Dumbledore the castle of which I am now heading. I don�t associate with elves or dwarves or any other wizards aside from my friends, that is Remus Lupin and my godson and his friends. Oh, and my arch enemy Snape is always lurking around the place; I have a pet hippogriff, Buckbeak; and have a Death Eater friend Peter Pettigrew. My best friends were murdered by none other than Lord Voldemort himself." As an afterthought, Sirius added, "And I�ve always liked mushrooms."
"But I am Gandalf the Gray! Surely you would recognize an old friend such as myself!" The wizard replied pertly, "Strider, you seem to have lost some weight!"
"I have always been this scrawny," Sirius laughed, "Even after Adhara asked me to work out!"
"Adhara?" Gandalf smiled sadly, "Arwen has promised herself to you, it may do you good to remember."
"Oh." He replied, "Arwen who?"
"Maybe it wasn�t an orc that had knocked you about," The wizard seem to regard Sirius with such keen scrutiny that the latter blushed, "Maybe a few mountain trolls." It was a point. Not a question. "Well, Sirius, as you insist on calling yourself now, I trust you still remember enough to get to Bree in one piece."
"To Bree? Where�s that?" Sirius sputtered, and decided it was worthless to tell this cracked-up wizard that he wasn�t whom he thought he was (namely some guy called Strider), "Alright, to Bree."
"First of all, you are in the wrong world, I shall return you to Middle Earth." Gandalf continued, taking a sip of stew, "Mighty fine cook you are,"
"Thanks." Sirius nodded, "Err . . . Middle Earth?"
"Of course." The wizard raised his staff, "Now if you please, just grab your belongings . . ."
"Err, I . . ." He screamed, "Sir!"
"What now, Strider?!" Gandalf sounded impatient, "The hobbit you seek will carry the name Underhill. Now what else . . . no, that is about it."
The staff was raised once more and Sirius reached into his robes to grab his wand, but before he could, there was a gigantic flash of white light, and he knew no more.
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Adhara Sinistra walked along the battlements of Hogwarts School impatiently, wringing her hands. It had been a few moons since Sirius had promised to show up, and meanwhile, as Dumbledore was on vacation, she was placed in charge of the castle. Muttering nervously to herself, she was about to retire to her astronomy tower when a flash of bright white light some where to her right caught her attention. Instead of Fred or George Weasley as she had expected, in their place stood a man. It was not just any man, it was a rather grubby sort, tall, dark and weather worn. Adhara picked up the heap of a person by his shoulders and stood him up right, dusting him off. She glared at him from his fine tall leather boots up to his tough leather jerkin and sword, all of which looked very travel stained. And as if that wasn�t enough, the man was in even worse condition than the clothing, if that were even possible. Adhara stared into the deep blue eyes, and though that the other could possibly be quite good looking if he had a well known fashion consultant. As if he wasn�t strange enough, across his shoulders was spread a cloak . . . no, perhaps it wasn�t . . . it shifted colors, it seemed, and could hide him very well . . .
"Who are you?" She finally found her voice, "Appearing here all of a sudden?"
"I must beg your pardon if I startled you, my lady," The voice was deep and Adhara gulped, reaching into her robes for her wand, "But I am afraid I have no idea where I am!"
"Hogwarts," She replied, her throat dry, "School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I�m Adhara Sinistra. Who are you?!"
"Hogwarts? Where in Middle Earth is that?" He repeated, a look of confusion crossing his face. For a split moment, his hand flew to the hilt of his sword, "You must forgive me for this . . . intrusion. It certainly was not of my knowledge!"
"Is that so?" Adhara returned with the air of her profession addressing one of her pupils, "And I must ask again, who are you?"
"Oh, you do not know me?" The other blinked, "I suppose you are of a different world and my lineage would mean nothing to you." He paused, "In that case, I think you can just call me as all others tend to do."
"What do they call you?" She asked coolly, "Scrub?"
"No," He blinked quickly. "I am called Strider."
Adhara blinked quickly. "Oh."
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Sirius blinked quickly. He could not believe his eyes. For some reason, he was now flat on his back with some horse prodding his arm lightly with its nose. And for some reason, he didn�t think he was in England any more. A odd type of dizziness struck him and he shook his head to clear it. Must be poisonous mushrooms. But what about that crazy old coot, Gandalf? In his hand, he found that he still clutched a brown paper bag of freshly picked mushrooms, those he had saved for breakfast. And he was lying beneath a tree. Somewhere.
He looked at the horse who looked back at him. Sirius sat up and rubbed his head where he had hit it against the trunk of the tree and shouldered his pack, deciding to find some type of civilization to find out where the phooey-potato he was before he went totally insane and believed that he was in some crappy place called . . . oh what was that the old wizard had called it? Middle Earth? And why was there this horse? Something about Bree . . . he had to reach Bree and find someone with the name Underhill. All this must be some big joke Dumbledore cooked up. Curse that Dumbledore!
Sirius stood and tied his bundle to the sparse amount of luggage already affixed to the beast. Making sure that his wand was within reach, he packed the paper bag of mushrooms at the top, sure that they were not poisonous and would do wonderfully in breaking the morrow�s fast. He sniffled slightly in the cold and drew his cloak about him, wondering whose horse this was. Well, it surely sucked to be them, for their horse was about to be his . . . "Don�t you have a name?" The horse nodded. "Alrighty then," Sirius sighed and searched the saddle bags to find nothing strange aside from a quiver full of arrows. This was not a normal horse. There was something particular about him, but yet, he carried himself with such a normal air . . . "Alrighty then," He repeated, "You�re going to have to tell me your name! Mine is Sirius Black and my middle name is . . ." Sirius paused, "I�m not quite sure. Well, whatever it is, it is something probably to do with the constellations."
"I know!" He announced suddenly, "I�m going to name you Strider!" The horse snorted. "Gandalf the old coot kept on calling me that for some reason, so that�s what I�m going to call you!" The horse didn�t seem to like his new name very much, but Sirius mounted anyway. "I�m off to Bree. I trust you know the way?" The horse finally nodded and began at a fair clip down a well worn path.
Sirius gazed along the path warily. It was of dirt, and beaten down by many users. To think that he was on a similar path in England! If he ever got his grubby paws on that Gandalf of a wizard again . . . he reached into his bag and drew out a large plastic baggie of ranch salad dressing and proceeded to eat a few mushrooms as the horse whisked him away into the darkness from which arose a large wooden fortress or a walled city.
"Must be Bree." Sirius muttered to himself, "Bree Cheese." For he was rather fond of different cheeses.
The grubby gatekeeper slid open a small wooden slat in the large wall and glared at Sirius with beady little eyes. Sirius glared back with equally beady little eyes. "I�m looking for Bree."
"You have found what you are looking for." The other answered, "And who may you be?"
"I�m Sirius, and I�m with Strider." Sirius answered, nudging his horse a little, "Can�t I come in?"
"Ah, Strider," The other grinned, "Of course."
"Yes, Strider." Sirius sounded a little confused, but the gate was opened for him, and he dismounted and stared about his surroundings in dismay. Bree was even worse off than Diagon Alley after the monsoons (if they were ever to come to England), the buildings seem to be built on an angle and were going to collapse on him if he so much as breathed, and the cobblestone path beneath his feet was slathered in mud and was in no better condition. He looked around for a friendly sign and only found the local inn. The Prancing Pony. Well, he didn�t feel like prancing, but it would have to do, Sirius supposed.
As he approached this sad looking structure, what appeared to be little midgets (four of them to be exact) ran into him, knocking him off his feet, and surely all the wind out of his lungs. "Look where you�re going!" Sirius screamed, but found that the four were not trying to attack him, but Strider! Sirius watched in horror as all four clambered upon his horse and nearly ripped apart his saddle bags. In the limited light of the night, Sirius could finally make out that the four of them sported perms and were much older than he first thought. One little person with a particularly sharp nose grabbed Sirius�s breakfast and in a high and shrill voice declared, "Mushrooms!"
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Sirius jumped onto his feet and brushed the four away, "GET OFF MY HORSE!" The four scampered (with the mushrooms) and Sirius griped as a seedy fellow (but definitely human) offered to take Strider, "Fine. Look after him. He�s a fine horse."
In turn, he pushed open the door to the grubby inn and was not surprised to find his hands streaked with rust stains. He wiped his hands on his cloak. No one looked up as he entered, aside from one. The innkeeper grinned and Sirius thought that the other needed (seriously) both a breath mint and braces. "Now how may I help you?"
"Err, I�ve just arrived here with my horse." Sirius started, and was quickly interrupted.
"Name?"
"Strider." About half the heads in the whole inn turned his way and the other half grew silent. Sirius continued, "My horse is called Strider." The inn groaned and turned away.
Finding this effect interesting, Sirius drew in a deep breath, and did not say anything.
"I suppose you shall be requiring lodgings," The innkeeper continued and Sirius nodded.
"For my horse!" Sirius sputtered, "Strider!" Once again, all attentions were on Sirius. Once again, he added, "My horse!" Everyone looked away.
"My name is Sirius." He declared proudly, and no one so much as looked up. "Fine then."
Suddenly, he was pushed away from the counter as four midgets pushed their way into the line. Sirius angrily noted that one of them carried his breakfast.
"That�s my breakfast!" He screamed, but no one took any notice. The four huddled around a little table muttering about how the pints of Bree were smaller than those in some place called the Shire. This was not important to Sirius. Instead, he grabbed the nearest midget and dragged him up the nearest staircase he could find. Even if this wasn�t the one with his mushrooms, he was going to get his breakfast back, no matter what!
Tossing the midget across his room, Sirius slammed the door shut and demanded, "Where are my mushrooms?!"
"I don�t know anything about mushrooms!" The midget squeaked back, "I don�t have any!"
"Indeed?" Sirius growled, "What are you supposed to be anyway?"
"I�m a hobbit." The other returned, "And I do like mushrooms, but I don�t have yours!"
"Well, I must say," Laughing, Sirius waved his hand about the height of the hobbit which was about half of his tall frame, "Men like you are in short supply!"
"I do not have your mushrooms!" The hobbit screamed, jumping up and down so quickly that Sirius feared that the whole inn would fall apart (they were on the second floor), "And I don�t know who has them!"
"Well, one of you four does and even if you do not, I do believe that the other three will be willing to sacrifice their breakfast (which used to be mine) for the return of their friend." Sirius sat down and gestured to an empty chair, "Will you take a seat?"
"No. I have to go." The hobbit looked a little worried. Sirius became very worried. He wasn�t sure whether the hobbit needed to go as in to journey elsewhere or to go as in take a night leak. Both did not seem very promising. "Really bad." Sirius paled.
"Well, I won�t let you. I need my mushrooms back." Sirius explained calmly and laid his wand out on the table. In explanation, he provided, "I am a wizard."
"Oh!" The little hobbit squeaked quite excitedly, "Really? Then pray, good sir, do you know of Gandalf the Grey?"
"That old coot." Sirius swore under his breath, angrily, "Yes, I know him."
"Then you must tell me where he is!" Quite breathlessly, the hobbit jumped onto the low bed and began bouncing up and down as though Sirius had said that Christmas was coming early or there was a 50% off sale in the mushroom department at the local Safeway store. "Oh, and I�m Frodo, by the way."
"As in there was a hobbit in the Shire and Frodo was his name-o," Sirius muttered and half-sang, "F-R-O-D-O . . . F-R-O-D-O . . . F-R-O-D-O . . . and Frodo was his name-o?!"
"Yes, yes, that is I." Frodo replied quite briskly, "I don�t believe I know who you are . . . Mister . . ."
"Sirius." Still gripping his wand, Sirius glared at the hobbit, "Sirius Black."
Before his startled eyes, the little hobbit fainted dead away and fell with a loud klunk to the wooden floor. Sirius stared, "Must be something he ate." Maybe too much ale. Always did it to the little fellows. A loud knock issued at the door and Sirius warily stared out the peep hole. Nothing. Must be one of those stupid Hogwarts ghosts. Wait. He wasn�t in Hogwarts. One of those annoying Bree ghosts then.
"Whatdawant?" Sirius called, and little voices of hushed conspiracy issued from the other side of the door. He stared at the hobbit lying passed out cold in the middle of his room and didn�t think that this was going to be a social call.
"Let us in!" The little voice piped up and Sirius would have bet his bottom mushroom that it was another one of those annoying hobbits outside his door. He opened it. Three little fellows who all sported curly hair and strange, funny accents nearly ran him over as they made their way over to the other hobbit in the middle of the room. Sirius slammed the door shut.
"Oh, poor Mr. Frodo!" A rather chubby one they called Sam whimpered as he shook the hobbit on the ground.
"Do you have my mushrooms?" Sirius got straight down to business, but all three hobbits were very busy at the moment, "He�s not dead."
"But of course he isn�t!" Sam blubbered, "He�s just pretending!"
"No, he isn�t pretending. He�s out. From too much ale." Sirius explained patiently, "Do any of you have any smelling salts?"
"No," A thin little hobbit murmured, pulling out a wrinkled brown paper bag Sirius knew only too well, "We only have mushrooms!"
"Fine. Mushrooms." Sirius knelt on the ground beside the passed out Frodo and grabbed a mushroom and waved it under his nose as though smelling salts. "Let�s hope this works." Sure enough, Frodo awoke. Instead of his eyes fluttering open, his mouth opened wide and if Sirius hadn�t been paying attention, the quick little hobbit teeth would have claimed his fingers in their rapid snatch for the mushroom. "It worked."
"Who are you?" Frodo whimpered, "You don�t seem to be a . . ."
"A . . ." Sirius rolled his eyes, "A what?!"
"A . . ." Frodo mumbled, "You know?"
"No." Sirius returned.
"No?" Frodo shuttered, "Never mind then!" All the hobbits exchanged a look as though very frightened.
Sirius took pity on them, as though they were the innocent children he and Adhara never had, "Are you frightened?"
All the hobbits looked at him although he was daft, "Yes!" They squeaked as one, "Yes!"
"Oh." Sirius looked stunned, "Oh."
"You said you were a wizard!" Frodo finally found his tongue, "We need to find Gandalf!"
"Well, I really hate to tell you that the last time I saw him he was in England. And that�s on Earth." Sirius muttered, "Not Middle Earth. And he didn�t seem that he was hurrying back. He sent me here."
"Oh no!" Sam looked ready to pass out but the little thin Pippin shoved a mushroom into the other hobbit�s mouth before anything direly awful could have happened, "Then what are we to do?!"
"I don�t know. All he told me was that I was supposed to find . . ." Sirius stumbled, "A hobbit. Under the name Underhill."
"Oh, that�s me." Frodo shrugged, although he looked a little happier, "So I suppose . . ."
"What do you suppose?" Sirius glared at him, "Wait. I don�t want to know what you suppose."
"I suppose that . . ." Frodo hesitated, "We should follow you!"
"Well, he does have mushrooms," Pippin muttered under his breath to Sam.
"Err, no." Sirius blinked, "I have to go home. Now."
"NOOOOOO!" All the hobbits squealed as one and before Sirius could stop them, they had grabbed on to his legs like a million leeches and were crying fountains of tears, wailing at the top of their lungs, "Don�t leave us!"
"Oh." Sirius blinked again, embarrassed, "Oh."
"We need a guide!" Frodo managed to sputter, "We have to get to Mordor!"
"Oh." Sirius blinked crazily, having no idea where that was.
"Can�t we go visit the elves?" Sam suddenly suggested, and having no other answer available, Sirius nodded. "Yay! Rivendell!"
"I suppose we could go on the Knight Bus and be back before sunrise." Sirius said thoughtfully, "Alright, if you promise to give back my mushrooms, I�ll take you to Rivendell."
"Yay!" Pippin quickly reached into the bag and shoved about a dozen mushrooms back into his mouth before handing the rest back. Sirius noted this angrily, "Yay!"
"Fifteen minutes. Alright? In the courtyard, I�ll meet you there." Sirius rolled his eyes as all four hobbits left singing merrily; There were some hobbits from the Shire and they had names-o! Of course they had names. Still, he hadn�t managed to catch the name of the fourth one.
Maybe there was a petrol station nearby. He really needed a road map. Why would some place be called Middle Earth, anyway? Where was Lower Earth then, if regular Earth was Upper Earth? Arg, Sirius rubbed his temples and took a few Advil for his pounding headache. Remembering to grab his wand, he was quite pleased to find that the four hobbits had assembled themselves downstairs, and were all smiles and were as excited as a foursome of kindergartners on a trip to the London Zoo. Hmm. Maybe this Mordor and Rivendell places were zoos. Maybe.
"Alright, now stick together," Sirius instructed as he held his wand arm out to signal the Knight Bus. The hobbits chatted cheerfully amongst themselves and whatever they were frightened of before they obviously weren�t frightened of it any longer. The streets of Bree were oddly abandoned during this hour, Sirius noted as the bright scarlet double-decker bus stopped in front of him, and the four hobbits piled on, but that was no concern of his.
The driver, some blurry fellow going by the name of Bert (Sirius swore that last time his name was different) charged Sirius a fistful of galleons and stared at the four hobbits as if they were from outer space.
"I didn�t know that the Knight Bus ran through Middle Earth as well!" Sirius handed over the gold and wondered when he was going to get more (it was all the gold Dumbledore had given him to look after Hogwarts castle which he was currently not doing). "Well, I�m glad it does!"
"Rivendell," Bert grinned and Sirius thought he was more amused by the prospect of so much gold rather than the prospect of their destination, "Elves."
"Yes, elves." Sirius rolled his eyes, "I have to get these four there."
"Ah, the Council." Bert grinned again, and Sirius didn�t bother to ask him what he meant. "I didn�t know that you were he."
"He shemees . . ." Sirius rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the millionth time, "Can I get back to Hogwarts after dropping those four off?"
"No," Bert grinned crazily, "This Knight Bus only runs in Middle Earth. That Knight Bus faced bankruptcy."
"Then how do I get back?!" Sirius gasped, and Bert laughed right out loud, "You don�t mean that I can�t get back?!"
"You get back the same way you got here." Bert collapsed onto the ground with fits of laughter, "You�ve got yourself in trouble again!"
"I�m not in trouble!" Sirius protested, "And I�m not frightened!"
"You should be." It was Frodo who piped up this time, and Sirius glanced back at the rest of the hobbits who were currently napping in one of the Knight Bus�s many fold-down seat-beds, "I am."
"Well, what should I be frightened of?" Bert had turned his attention to driving and Sirius settled down on a seat, with Frodo sitting across the aisle from him. The hobbit shuttered. "Well, I can�t be frightened of something I can�t see now can I?"
"You should be frightened of something you can see," Frodo protested, "And be terrified of those you can not."
"Oh. Philosophy." Sirius groaned and wished that Adhara was here (she had a degree in astronomy with a philosophy minor), "I don�t understand that. Sorry."
"I don�t have a degree in philosophy myself," Frodo continued, "But . . ." He thrust his chest out proudly, "I do have a doctor�s degree in mushroomology!"
"Mushroomology?!" Sirius repeated, "Well!"
"You truly are not frightened?" Frodo became timid again, "Are you truly not?"
"Well," Sirius sighed, "I am a little." That is, mostly frightened of not being able to get back home.
In a voice hushed with conspiracy, little Frodo stared at Sirius, "Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you."
"Oh. What?!" Sirius asked, having no idea, "I�m glad that someone knows what is going on!"
"But I�ll tell you tomorrow!" Frodo suddenly piped up, "It�ll just give you nightmares!"
"Oh. Female horses of the Night." The hobbit did not get this. Sirius conjured a quilt out of thin air and was rather disgusted at the patters of mushrooms on it, but did not complain. He rolled over and with a final goodnight to the hobbit who was still staring at him, he fell in to a deep, although troubled, sleep.
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"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Strider murmured, downing some butterbeer, "This isn�t good."
"What isn�t good?" Adhara muttered, "It�s the finest school around!"
"I don�t need school!" He screamed, "I NEED TO GET BACK TO MIDDLE EARTH!"
"Calm down!" She hollered, but suddenly, he collapsed, clutching his chest. Having taken Muggle medicine, Adhara groaned and whipped open her cellular phone and called 911. "Hello? 911 Central? I have a myocardial infarction!"
"A heart attack?" Strider�s eyes fluttered open, "Oh. Dearie Me!"
His eyes closed.
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