When he finally stood at the door he took a deep breath and knocked.
There he stood, waiting for Bilbo to open the door, holding the flower with both his hands, his blue eyes sparkling as only a child's eyes can sparkle and grinning as broadly as if he wished never to stop smiling again.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
Frodo turned around, eyes wide. This was definitely not his uncle's beloved voice. And the voice didn't sound very loving either.
"Taking the flowers from Mr. Bilbo's garden and then knocking boldly at the front door with a false smile on your face."
He didn't smile, not any more. He was totally taken aback by the sturdy hobbit standing in front of him, shaking his forefinger and blustering at him that it was wrong to steal flowers from a strangers' garden.
Frodo stared at the hobbit wide eyed, his mouth open. He wanted to explain that he didn't intend to steal the flower, but he didn't get a word in edgeways. The aster slid from his grip and fell onto the grass.
Desperately he looked for his parents who fortunately had just reached the garden door. Frodo glanced at his mother pleadingly, hoping she or his father would do something to stop this hobbit from scolding him.
"Is there any problem?" asked Drogo, facing the hobbit before him.
Frodo stepped back and hid behind his father.
Hamfast Gamgee, the gardener of Bag End nodded.
"This rascal just picked the flowers from Mr. Bilbo's garden and…"
Drogo stopped the flood of words. "I'm sure he didn't mean any harm. He just wanted to surprise his uncle."
"His uncle?" Mr. Gamgee looked at the stranger and his family in surprise.
Suddenly his eyes grew wide. "Mr. Drogo Baggins!" he exclaimed.
"Drogo?" Bilbo's head appeared in the door.
The hobbits turned around.