Harry had been invited to the Weasley's during the holidays after his third year and had accepted gratefully, especially considering he would be able to go to the Quidditch World Cup. After the Weasleys brought him back to the Burrow, having tried to use floo powder and ruining the fireplace, not to mention making Dudley's tongue grow dramatically, Harry grinned and settled in happily. It was his birthday the next day and he was gladdened that he would be spending it with the redheaded family that had become somewhat of his own.
After a huge dinner, which consisted of many of Harry's favourite foods, they sat around playing Wizard's Chess and drinking hot chocolate in front of the fire. As Harry began to yawn, Mrs Weasley ordered them all to bed. They trooped up the stairs, changed into their pyjamas and fell into bed contentedly.
Snuggled up in his bed, Harry watched the time on his wristwatch as it ticked closer to midnight and his birthday. 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...
The pain came so suddenly and unexpectedly that Harry cried out. It felt as though his blood were boiling and freezing simultaneously and his skin felt as though it had a blade scraped over it repeatedly. Then his eyes began to sting and his ears felt as though he had been burned with white-hot steel. He cried out again as he felt his bones lengthen and change. This went on for a whole minute but to Harry it felt like ten.
"Harry, mate, are you all right?" He heard Ron ask from his bed.
Harry didn't answer as he tried to get his breathing under control and stop himself from trembling. He heard the door open and then the light was switched on, "Harry, dear, was that you? Are you alright?"
Harry pulled the blanket off of his face to say that he was fine but no sooner had he done so than Mrs Weasley shrieked and Ron yelled, "Who the hell are you and what have you done with Harry?"
Harry's eyes widened, "What do you mean? I am Harry!" He gaped. His voice sounded different somehow, like that of a child's. He jumped out of bed and almost fell over when his head hit the ceiling of Ron's small bedroom. He put a hand out to steady himself and nearly shouted when a hand that was not his did so. Well, the hand was his but it certainly didn't look it. Upon closer inspection, his hands were long and slender with long nails. He immediately bolted past a terrified Mrs Weasley and into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. He stared into the mirror and his heart dropped like a stone. He didn't recognise the face staring back at him.
Harry's face was now sharp and even elegant with cherry lips and practically glowing green eyes. His skin was extremely pale with traces of a faint bluish tinge. His lashes were long and dark and he nolonger needed glasses and his nose was, well, normal if a little sharper. But the two things that startled him the most were the long, pointed ears and the straight, black hair that fell over his shoulders and reached down to his waist. His ears poked out of his mass of black hair and made Harry bite his lip nervously. He couldn't let them see him like this.
Suddenly there was a banging on the bathroom door and several voices called, "Harry! Harry! Please come out, mate! We didn't mean to overreact!" It seemed as though the entire Weasley family were outside of that door trying to get in. Then Harry heard Mr Weasley's voice shout over the others, "Move out of the way, boys!"
Harry panicked. He knew Mr Weasley could easily open the door with an unlocking spell. He desperately wanted not for them to see him the way he was. He had grown a foot taller with long legs and light feet and an altogether slender figure with firm arms and torso. Generally, he felt like an alien. He looked around. There was no escape and nowhere to hide. Backing into the far corner, between the sink and a wall, Harry slid down and curled up into a ball with his knees to his chest, arms wrapped around them and head resting on them, trying to make himself as small as possible.
"Alohomora," the door swung open and the Weasleys crowded around the doorway as Mr Weasley entered, "Harry?"
Harry could hear the boys whispering in awe as though they were directly next to him and tears burned in his eyes, his long hair completely covering his face and pointed ears poking out of the sea of black.
"Harry, please tell me what happened," Mr Weasley spoke calmly, trying to coax Harry out of his hiding spot.
Harry sobbed. He had lost his identity and now he was even more of a freak. Not only did people stare at him because of the vivid, red scar on his forehead but now they would stare at him because he looked like some kind of weirdo. Harry clawed at the hope that this process could be reversed but was more dominated by the now. Something landed on his shoulder and he jumped a mile, whipping his head up to focus instantly on the concerned face of Mr Weasley, who had placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Harry?"
Harry swallowed, "Yes." More tears made their way down his pale cheeks as his new, innocent voice played with his emotions.
"I need you to tell me what happened," Mr weasley spoke gently as though speaking to a small child.
"I don't know," Harry said in anguish, "I was watching the time until midnight and the moment it was, I felt lots of pain, like my entire body was... changing." Harry hung his head, hair falling over his face.
"Harry, why don't you come downstairs with me and have something to drink?"
Harry didn't move.
"Please," Mr Weasley pleaded.
"How can you stand to look at me? I'm a freak," Harry spoke brokenly, not looking up.
"Harry, none of us care what you look like. We love you like family," Mr Weasley gave his sons a pointed look.
"Yeah, Harry," Fred piped up.
"Wouldn't have you any other way," George added helpfully.
Mr Weasley shook his head at his sons. That wasn't going to get them anywhere.
Ron stepped forward hesitantly, "C'mon, Harry. If it were me, would you just abandon me and call me a freak?"
"No," there was that innocent child voice again. It made Ron lose his hesitation and kneel next to his father in front of Harry.
"I wouldn't do that to you either. Don't you trust me?"
Harry hesitated and then lifted his head. Ron made sure not to stare or gape and held out a hand to his friend. Harry looked at the proffered hand and then took it. When he stood, Harry was a good head taller than his friend and almost the same height as Mr Weasley. His discomfort was elevated when he saw the rest of the Weasleys standing in the doorway, gaping. He looked at his feet so as to not make eye contact with anyone and noticed that his pyjama pants ended halfway down his shins and proceeded to check out his sleeves, only to find the same case.
"Um, could I please get changed?" He asked, biting his lip.
"Sure, Harry," Mr weasley then proceeded to shoo the rest of the family downstairs, much to the relief of Harry.
He dug through his trunk and pulled out a pair of Dudley's old black pants and a grey sweater. Though still incredibly baggy (he wore a belt to hold the pants up), they were relatively the correct length. Not bothering with shoes as he didn't intend to go anywhere anytime soon, Harry opened the door to find Ron and Mr Weasley waiting for him. He followed them downstairs, wishing he had worn his cloak so as to hide his face.
Downstairs, everyone sat in various chairs around the room. Fred and George were sitting by the fire, Percy was near the window and Ginny at the dining table. Mrs Weasley was fixing some tea for everyone in the kitchen as Harry took a seat at the table, Ron sitting next to him. Mr Weasley went to the fireplace and firecalled Dumbledore, explaining what had happened before going to the kitchen to speak to his wife.
In the eerie silence that followed, Harry felt eyes on him and looked up to see Ginny staring at him with an expression of longing (?) on her face. She blushed bright red and looked away. Harry frowned. That was odd. He concluded that he may never understand girls.
At that moment, the fire flared green and Dumbledore walked out, closely followed by McGonagall and Snape. Before they could spot him, Harry slipped under the table unnoticed. He heard Mr and Mrs Weasley enter the room.
"Would you kindly allow me to take a look at Harry myself?" Dumbledore asked, having scanned the room and not seen him.
"He's gone!" Ron had finally noticed Harry's lack of prescence.
Harry had curled up in a ball with his head resting on his knees much like when he had tried to hide in the bathroom. There was utter confusion as everyone looked for him.
"He might be hiding again," Mr weasley informed, "He seems to have the impression that he looks like a freak."
Dumbledore called for silence and raised his wand. He muttered, "Revealus prescienca Harry James Potter." His wand moved until it was pointing at the table. Dumbledore nodded and Snape flicked his wand. The chairs on that side of the table were banished to a far corner and he knelt down to see Harry curled up, hugging his knees to his chest, his face hidden by a mass of black hair that went past his waist. Snape raised a brow at the pointed ears sticking out of the hair.
"Potter, come out from under there," Snape demanded in exasperation.
No movement.
"Come out now or I will be forced to jinx you."
Harry began rocking backwards and forwards slightly, tears running freely down his face.
Potter was being pathetic. Snape grabbed the boy's arm and tried pulling him out from under the table. Harry struggled against the tight grip but Snape growled and dragged him out nevertheless.
"Let me go!" Harry shouted, pulling away desperately. He didn't want to be stared at. He didn't want to be there at all.
Snape pulled him so forcefully this time that Harry lost his balance and fell over. He sat up quickly and tried to go back under the table but Snape was in the way and grabbed him, pinning him to the floor.
"Calm yourself, Potter!"
Harry continued to struggle, "Let me go!" he cried, tears still running down his face unchecked. Snape flinched at the sound of his voice. Harry took that moment to slip one of his arms out of Snape's grasp and tied to free his other arm. Snape didn't let go and Harry began beating at the potions master's chest with his free arm.
"Drowsen," Dumbledore said, purple sparks flying out of his wand and hitting Harry in the back.
Harry stopped. He sighed in a rather childlike manner and his eyelids drooped. His head fell forward to rest on Snape's chest and his breathing became regular, the occasional sob catching in his throat. Snape gently turned the sleeping form around so that his head was resting on Snape's chest and Dumbledore and McGonagall could clearly see his face. The remaining occupants in the room took a good look as well, as Harry had spent most of the time hiding in his hair.
"Albus, is he...?" Mcgonagall whispered in awe.
"Yes, Minerva, it would appear so," Dumbledore affirmed.
"What are you talking about?" Ron demanded a little too loudly.
Harry shifted in his sleep and cuddled Snape's arm, turning his head to rest on Snape's shoulder. If anyone thought Snape would be mortified, they were disappointed. He looked more thoughtful than anything else.
"What is Harry and why is he behaving like a five-year-old?" Ron said quietly.
"Because, in elvish years, that is probably about his correct maturity level," Dumbledore answered mildly.
Snape, not paying much attention to what was said, reach up to move Harry's head so as to get a better look at him. His hand brushed against his neck and he could feel the boy's pulse. Suddenly he bit back a cry as he felt as though he was being frozen and burnt at the same time. Holding onto Harry with the arm that was currently being cuddled, he used the other to steady himself as he bent over in pain. He felt the same sensations that Harry had at midnight for an entire minute before he was finally able to notice the few gasps that remained in the shocked silence.
He looked up at a surprised Dumbledore and shocked McGonagall. The spell that Harry was under broke and Harry blinked a few times. He then realised that he was hugging the arm of his potions master and quickly let go, backing away from him. Then he saw that Snape had changed. Where the professor had had longish hair before, it had now grown well past his waist, much like his own had, and was the same straight and black. He had pointed ears sticking out of his hair and sharpened features. His pale, bluish tinged complexion mirrored Harry's but the dark eyes were the same, if a little more pronounced..
"I remember," Snape spoke; only it wasn't his usual... evil... voice but a fair sound.
"What do you remember?" Dumbledore asked kindly, though confused.
"My previous life as an elf," Snape said simply.
"What?!!" There was uproar as all occupants of the room spoke at once, except for Dumbledore, Snape and the currently forgotten Harry who remained silent. Harry took the opportunity to crawl into an empty cupboard, where he listened quietly.
When the noise level had lowered considerably, Snape spoke coldly, "If you would care to listen to what I have to say..." When there was silence, he took a seat at the table and began to recount his life. "I was born a prince to the thrown of the elven kingdom, hidden by magic incomprehensible by humans. When I was three hundred and twenty-two, I met a fair blond maiden. Her name was Liliana and we were married very few years after. She bore me one child, a son, and we named him Elladan. Soon after his birth, Liliana had a vision that the human, Tom Marvolo Riddle, would gain such power that he would become an immortal. Only an immortal can venture into the land of the elves without an elven escort and, therefore, he would eventually find us.
"We saw the falling of the Human and Elven worlds alike and I, King Thallrond, sent my Queen, Liliana, and son, Elladan, to the human world as a witch and young wizard. I placed spells on them so that they looked like humans and had no memory of their true past. I gave them a new past and, though it pained me, gave my dear Liliana a wizard husband," at this point Snape closed his eyes and swallowed, "His name was James Potter."
Several people in the room gasped or cried out, "What?!!"
"But then, does that mean that Harry is really Elladan... your son?" Mrs Weasley asked, shocked.
Snape looked her in the eye, "Yes."
There was silence for a moment and then, "Where's Harry?"
Snape stood quickly and a look of concentration crossed his face for a moment. He then walked over to the cupboard that Harry was hiding in and opened it, "Elladan?"
"I'm not a freak?"
"No, you're not," Snape said firmly but not unkindly.
"But then..."
"What is it?"
"Why do I look and feel... wrong?" Harry asked uncomfortably.
Snape actually laughed, though it was not the cold harsh laugh that he once had, "I'm sorry. It took me years to complete the spells on you and your mother," he smiled fondly, "I didn't suspect that there would be a chance of me being so near you and that was what broke the spell on myself," he explained, "I made it so that when you went back to school, you would look your human age. Do you want me to change it?'
Harry nodded.
Snape reached a hand out to touch his cheek and Harry flinched, unused to such a gesture. Snape ignored it, intending to fix it with time and bonding. He placed his hand on Harry's cheek and murmured in elvish for almost ten minutes before Harry glowed a bright bluish white. All the rest of the people in the room could see was the glow emitted from the cupboard and were shocked and slightly disturbed to see a small child crawl out moments later. He barely reached Snape's waist and had a small smile on his face. Everyone in the room couldn't help but think, "Aw, how cute!"
"How old am I now?" Harry asked the question that everyone else was dying to but didn't want to interrupt.
"You are only fifty-eight but by humans standards, your maturity level is about seven years of age."
Harry thought about that, "I remember being older, as a human, and I cannot help but think that, even with my friends and people that loved me, I was miserable," he said hesitantly, "In fact, the best thing that ever happened to me was coming here because that way... I had something that was like a family of my own..."
Snape knelt down so that he was eye level with Harry, "Would you like to stay here or come with me back to Hogwarts?"
Harry bit his lip, "Can't you stay here? I mean... just for tonight. Hermione comes here tomorrow and I wanted her to understand..."
Snape smiled, "Sure."
Harry smiled up at him gratefully.
"Elladan, what do you remember of your elvish life?"
Harry thought about it, "Not much. I remember you and mum together and I remember you practicing with a sword but not much else... Mum used to sing me to sleep..."
"Yes... her voice mirrored her beauty," Snape smiled at the memory. "Come, you must be tired."
Harry nodded and, after looking at his father wryly, wrapped his arms around him, burying his head in Snape's neck. Snape wrapped his arms around his son and stood. He looked at Mrs Weasley enquiringly and she immediately led him up the stairs and to the room that Harry had been sleeping in. Snape tucked the sleeping boy into bed and kissed his brow goodnight before going back downstairs.
"What about his birthday? When is his real birthday? We were going to throw him a party tomorrow," Mrs Weasley glanced at the time and corrected herself, "Today."
"Elves do not follow your traditions and therefore do not have a human birth date. We live so long that it merely does not do to celebrate each and every year," Snape explained kindly, "Though, I am sure he would truly appreciate the gesture, as he is too young to know of our ways, so by all means, continue."
These questions followed well into the morning and at around two in the morning the Weasley children finally went back to bed. Dumbledore soon followed suit and he and McGonagall flooed back to Hogwarts.
"I'll go and prepare you a bed," Mrs Weasley headed for the stairs but Snape held up a hand.
"Elves do not need sleep as humans do after the first one hundred years of their lives," he spoke from his seat by the window, "I bid you goodnight."
Mr and Mrs Weasley bid him goodnight in return and went upstairs to bed. The next morning Snape was still sitting there, looking as well as ever.
When Harry awoke the next morning, the first thing he was aware of was that he was terribly small. Then he remembered the events of the night before and his eyes lit up. He had a father. Harry ran to the bathroom and stripped off the clothes that were so big on him then that the shirt was like a dress and he kept tripping on the hem all of the way. He showered quickly, having difficulty reaching the taps, and dressed in a white t-shirt that again was like a dress. Biting his lip when he was only just tall enough to see his face in the mirror, Harry lifted the end of the shirt so as not to trip on it and went downstairs.
Mr and Mrs Weasley were up, as was Percy. Harry went shyly over to his father, who was looking out the window. "Err, I was wondering if I could, you know, get clothes that fit," Harry spoke shyly, biting his lip and looking at his barely visible feet. Snape took one look at him and chuckled. He muttered in elvish for a moment and summoned some clothing for the boy.
"Here, try these," Snape handed the bundle of clothing to him.
Harry smiled gratefully and slipped back upstairs, stumbling in the process. In the bathroom he pulled on the brown pants, white elvish tunic and light shoes that were made out of some green material that resembled leaves. He walked back downstairs, "Thankyou, father," he said as he walked into the room. Then he saw that he was no longer alone in the room. Hermione had just come through the floo network and was staring from him to Snape and then back at him.
"Hello, Hermione," he spoke shyly.
Hermione stared at him, "Um, do I know you?" she asked, feeling rather stupid for asking.
"Yes," Harry sighed. This was going to be difficult.
Hermione raised her brows at the statement.
Harry was still explaining everything to her when Ron, Fred, George and Ginny finally came down the stairs. They all took seats around the table and proceeded to watch the exchange in amusement with Percy, Snape and Mr Weasley. Mrs Weasley entered the room not long after, floating large plates of food onto the table.
"Happy birthday, Harry, dear," Mrs Weasley smiled down at him.
"Thankyou, Mrs Weasley," Harry smiled shyly and bit his lip. This seemed to be a habit for Harry. Whenever he was scared or nervous, he bit his lip. Harry glanced over at Hermione and found that she was staring at him with a strange look in her eye.
"What?" he asked uncomfortably.
"You know, Harry," Hermione said slyly, "You look so much cuter as an elf."
Harry blushed and crawled under the table as all of the females of the room laughed and the guys look either confused, disgusted or, in Snape's case, amused.
When they finally managed to coax Harry out of his hiding place, everyone had breakfast and went outside to play. First they had a game of Quidditch, Harry faster than ever on his broom now that he was even smaller than usual, then they ensued on to hide-and-seek, by preferable demand of Harry. They had been trying to find the little elf for the last half an hour with no luck and were beginning to become bored.
"C'mon, Harry, we give up!" Ron groaned, flopping down on the grass under a large tree. The others followed suite and they could distinctly hear the sound of muffled giggled coming from somewhere nearby.
"Hey, did you guys hear something?" Ron looked around, puzzled.
The twins looked at each other and then up. Harry leapt from one of the lower braches and grabbed the on the shoulders as he landed, causing for them to shout and fall over. Harry stood over them with a cheeky grin on his face.
"That's it, you're done for!"
Harry bolted as they got to their feet and ran after him. He laughed as he ran and ducked out of the way when they made swipes at him. Suddenly he ran head first into something solid and landed on his backside with an, "Oof!" He looked up, startled, to see Charlie staring down at him.
Refraining from asking the little creature what it was, Charlie asked, "Who are you?"
"Its me, Charlie. Its Harry," he said blushing at the looks he was receiving.
Having had a discussion during lunch, they were surprised to find that it took less time to explain the circumstances of Harry's new looks to Bill and Charlie than it had for Hermione. After lunch, Harry opened his birthday gifts.
From Hermione he received some Dark Arts books that she had managed to get her hands on and, when question, she insisted that they had some really good duelling info in them. Ron gave Harry a load of Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans whereas Ginny gave him a magically induced Mood Ring. Harry was fascinated by this and played with it for a few minutes, trying to get it to change from orange until Fred and George dumped their gift in his lap. Harry's eye glinted mischievously when he opened their present. It was a Weasley Wizard Wheezes prankster kit and Harry had a fair idea it would come in handy.
Snape took one look at this and groaned, burying his face in his hands, "You have no idea of what you have done, do you?" It was a rhetorical question, "As an elf, he will get himself into so much trouble with that."
Everyone promptly burst out laughing and Harry took the moment to slip some powder into the twins drinks from out of the kit. Smiling innocently, he opened Percy's gift to reveal a writing set, complete with inkwell and quill. Harry smiled appreciatively before opening one from Bill. It was a silver circlet.
"It has protection spells woven into it by professional Egyptian wizards," he explained as Harry tried it on. They were interrupted by the spluttering and coughing of fred and George, who had taken a drink from their glasses. They promptly sneezed and turned into a pair of furry, red guinea pigs. Everyone laughed their heads off and Harry grinned. When the twins had finally stopped sporadically changing in between guinea pigs and humans, the shook their fists at Harry and swore vengeance.
Mr and Mrs Weasley had bought him a new set of dress robes and had even shrunk them to his size for good measure, whereas Charlie had given to him a silver chain with a small mirror on the end.
"Whenever you are in trouble or just need to talk to someone, just say their name and you will be able to communicate with them through the mirror," he said helpfully.
Harry experimentally ran from the room, looked down at the mirror and said, "Charlie Weasley." The face of the redheaded man swirled into view.
"I am so glad you like it, Harry," he said comically.
Harry laughed joyously and ran back into the room in time to see the ghostly visage of his own face dissipating. The last gift was from Snape, or King Thallrond, however you thought of him, and Harry loved it. Harry's father handed to him a small sword that fit easily into his palm and was light to wield. He also received a set of elvish robes. They were blue and made of a velvet kind of material that shone in the light. Harry pulled the robes on and lowered the hood so that it just covered the scar on his forehead.
After a special dinner and some birthday cake, Harry fell asleep on his father's lap. Snape rose, holding onto the sleeping child, and bade them all farewell. He placed an elvish spell on Harry so that he would not wake, grabbed a hold of Harry's trunk with his other hand and went back to Hogwarts through the floo network.
He immediately carried Harry through his chambers and to a new room that had not been there the day before. Snape had asked the headmaster to set up a room for Harry the night before whilst everyone else had slept and now carried him in. The room was relatively large with white walls and wooden floorboards. There was a single bed with a blue cover and silver laced hangings around it. There was also a large bookcase with books on every subject available at Hogwarts as well as many others and a cupboard and set of drawers filled with nice clothing of muggles, wizards and elves. There was a desk where he could study and do his homework and a bedside table with nothing more than a new notebook and some personal belongings such as a hairbrush. The remaining drawers in the bedside table were left empty for Harry to fill with things of his own.
To finish the room off, there were framed elvish weapons hanging from the walls. There were intricately carved daggers, bows, arrows, spears... and everything else elven made. When Harry was tucked securely into bed, Snape kissed his brow and pulled the opaque, silver hangings around his bed. Taking one last look at his sleeping son, he whispered an elvish prayer and crept silently from the room.