A/N: Finally, it's HERE! Laziness, exams and a new network connection combined could not prevent my surging inspiration! Well, not exactly surging but I did get this done. That's something.

The meaning behind the title will become clear in later chapters. For now, enjoy!

Calasier Avamela Bellime

Chapter 1: Reunion

The two families strode purposefully up the drive, ignoring the cries of the peacocks around them. The stronger couple reached the door first while the old, stooping man stumped up the drive with his son. The younger man knocked three times on the door and, after a little noise within, the door opened, "Oh," Narcissa Malfoy stood in the doorway, looking relieved to see them, "do come in."

Glad to get out of the baking sunshine, the five filed into the sumptuous entrance hall of Malfoy Manor. Lucius Malfoy was at the top of the stairs, descending to greet them, "Ah, Nott, Parkinson, glad you could come."

"What is this about, Lucius?" The old man growled, "What's worth straining my bones up your drive with only my son to help me?" The boy scowled. He would not have bothered had he known how ungrateful he would be,

"It does concern your son and young Pansy here." Lucius said smoothly, as though this was a completely polite greeting (and, by the old man's standards, it probably was), "It is my son, Draco."

"Why, what seems to be the matter with him?" asked Pansy's father, "He does not seem to be here to greet his schoolfriends."

"He is not even out of bed." Draco's mother suddenly looked sadly worried,

"Is he ill?" Pansy spoke up, looking almost panic-stricken,

"No," Contrary to his wife, Lucius suddenly looked irritated, "but he is not himself. We have sent for him in the hopes that his friends may be able to extract more information from him than Narcissa and I could."

Theodore thought that, if his parents could get nothing from him, there was not much point in attempting using his friends. However, he kept his these thoughts to himself and instead asked, "Where is he? I will meet him if conveniant."

Narcissa looked relieved, as though worrying he would refuse, "Of course. Are you coming, Pansy?"

"Of course, Mrs Malfoy." Pansy was at Theodore's side in a trice and following him up the staircase to the upper floor. Theodore didn't know whether to be irritated or impressed by her obvious devotion to Draco. Impressed because she went to him without hesistation. Irritated because he had to accompany her. Surpressing the urge to sigh wearily, he followed Narcissa along the corridor and to a door upon which a painstakingly carved wooden block was set, proclaiming the chamber beyond to be Draco's. They did not enter at first but Narcissa beckoned them closer, lowering her voice like an army general giving her troups some last minute advice before going into battle,

"He has been like this ever since he came back from a trip away from home. There is nothing physically wrong but he has hardly got out of bed since he came back. He would not even let me open the curtains." With that, she pushed the door open. Whereas the rest of the house was light-filled with windows thrown open but within Draco's room, it was dark and secluded. Some little sunlight filtered through the drawn curtains, just enough to reveal its occupant.

He looked a complete mess. The sheets were creased and half off him. A dressing gown hung around his waist, tied in an unravelling knot. Even his wrinkled pajames were lying off his pale shoulders. Draco's normally sleek hair was dishevelled, falling over his face. He gave off an air of bored lethargy; his eyes only half-open, as though he had only woke up but didn't want to get up,

"Draco, make yourself a little more presentable." Narcissa sighed. Draco did nothing but screw up his eyes, not used to the bright light. Seeming to give it up as a lost cause, she ushered them in and closed the door. The dimness settled at Draco rolled lazily onto his side to look up at them,

"'Lo." He half-yawned. He didn't even seem remotely happy to see them. Pansy was the first to make a move. Rather foolishly, she sat down on the bed beside him,

"Draco, are you feeling alright?"

"As good as I can in this place." Draco sighed and rolled over again so he was facing away from her. Theodore had the impression that he didn't want to talk to them. Pansy being Pansy, she didn't pick up on this. Instead, she marched straight around the bed and sat down again so she was facing him again,

"Draco, what's wrong? We can help you."

Draco made a noise somewhere between disbelief and annoyance. He then lay flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling, "You could do something: go away or open my bedside table drawer." Pansy flinched at this but obeyed. She opened the drawer, "Right, now take out that black box." Again, she obeyed, "What's in there is all yours." Rather more excitedly this time, she opened it. Theodore only saw her face whiten,

"This is-"

"All the letters and presents you gave me." Draco's voice, though heavy with weariness, became cold, "I won't need them anymore. How could I love you now? You cannot satisfy me. You are nothing but a dog in my eyes. How did I ever love you? You were always like this. Why didn't I see it before?"

All through his speech, Pansy's eyes got wider. Then, those eyes grew wet. Clasping the box to her chest, she flung herself from the room, her sobbing echoing down the corridor. Theodore was shocked. Draco and Pansy had been close ever since second year and Draco showed no signs of a loss in interest. True, Pansy clung to him, obsessing with him too much and was sometimes downright obnoxious but he never showed any tending towards anyone else. Unless...

While Theodore thought this all through, Draco rolled over again, losing interest in his rejection of Pansy, and began to play with a crystal pendant around his neck on a golden chain. Theodore peered intently at it: it was very finely made. Clear crystal encasing a golden flower. It looked very valuable and expensive. But, there was something otherworldly about it. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Perhaps the almost-perfect cut of it or how delicately real the flower looked,

"What is that, Draco?" He asked, at last. Draco slowly turned over to look at him,

"This?" He gestured at the pendant, "Just a present from someone."

Theodore waited patiently for an elaboration but none came. Instead, Draco stretched out and stared at the ceiling with clouded eyes,

"What is the matter with you?" Theodore sighed at last, becoming impatient, "You would never do that to Pansy. Why are you acting like this?"

"Oh, I dunno." Draco yawned, "It just feels...pointless somehow. Just...everything. Everything's so boring now. So dull and tedious. Everyone's so normal and dreadfully boring."

Then, he feel silent and continued to stare at the ceiling. Finally feeling that he had seen enough, Theodore stood, "Well, I'd better go and see where Pansy went." and left. He closed the door behind him and, while walking down the corridor to the stairs, he pondered over what he had seen.

Finding Pansy was easy; she was a person who was heard before seen. She was crying into her mother's lap and her father was furiously berating Lucius on Draco's behaviour. So loud was her bawling that he was surprised that he was heard coming in at all, "Well?" Lucius demanded, seeming desperate to get away from the shouting of Mr Parkinson, "What have you found? What has he said to you?"

"Not much." He admitted, "Except that he is in love with another."

Pansy's head shot off her mother's lap at once to goggle at him, all traces of tears vanishing abruptly,

"He did not tell me as such." Theodore amended, "I worked it out from his behaviour. You say he was away from home for a time, Mrs Malfoy?"

"Yes." Narcissa nodded from the corner, "It was completely unannounced. He just took off and we didn't see him again for weeks. Or even hear from him."

"No correspondence? No letters?"

"No, not a word."

"That proves it, then." Theodore said, smartly, "He must have met someone there and fallen in love with them. Not to mention that he is so in love that he sees everything as boring and unworthy without that someone."

The adults exchanged looks. Lucius was the first to speak, "Very well. We will talk to him over dinner and perhaps a trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow will bring him back to sense."

It was easy to truly marvel at the elven beauty when observing the human world. Everything was so much brighter and more elegant in Valivial. Now back in England, Draco couldn't help but lament how dreary everything seemed. Even the sun was dimmer somehow. The stone of the buildings was dull, dank, as though uncared for. No artwork seemed as wonderfully intricate or beautiful as the ones he found in Valivial. All was boring and uninteresting.

Diagon Alley was much the same. Where the Quidditch shop had fascinated him, it was now just a haphazard arrangement of objects. The shiny broomsticks nothing but overpolished bits of wood. Everything, he realised, was either overdone or underdone in the human world. No one seemed to have any sense of what was perfect and what wasn't.

His parents pointed things out to him and he only half-heartedly looked around, expecting nothing and being proved right. He knew they were getting increasingly worried about his strange behaviour but he did not care. When his father beckoned him into Knockturn Alley while his mother got new potions ingredients, everything looked twice as vile and unpleasant. He half-wanted to go around with his eyes shut but, if he did that, he would never get out.

It was only when they entered Borgin and Burkes did Draco's interest perk up. At the counter, a heated arguement was going on. The counter was the only thing that separated Mr Borgin and a cloaked figure. Nothing remarkable appeared to be haunting the situation if not for how small the figure was. He was only about half or a whole foot below Draco's height, "Who does that little whelp think he is?" muttered Lucius, "Come. Let us see what is the matter."

The door swung open and Lucius strode in, "Why, when do you hold arguements with mere children, Borgin?" He asked, condescension oozing from his voice,

"Why, Mr Malfoy," Borgin's voice became oily at once and Draco didn't know why he never realised how unpleasant he was, "perhaps you can help me put this 'little whelp' in his place. He insists that I charge too much and use underhanded methods to gain my goods."

"Oh, I know you do," A wonderfully familiar sneering voice came from within the hood, "It is clear from simply looking at these goods. Your inventory is fraught with falsehoods."

"What would you know about them?" Lucius sneered back. Draco excitedly began noticing other familiar things: the crest of Lindaria on the clasp, the beautiful embroidery around the hem of the cloak, the brown bony hands and the immediate reply of,

"Why, sir, I took the liberty of examining some of his wares and discovered the haphazard handling that no fair trader would give them and the way some of the more valued are kept out of sight of the windows. Yes, I do admit that there are some items of worth within this establishment, I have experience with the trade of such and know their given values well. If you are to tar your own perception of my wisdom with meaningless insults about my age, I shall make you both blind so we may speak more to the point!"

Though he was unmistakably in child form, the personality was still the same. Lucius glared at him with contempt and some confusion at a child arguing like an adult. Seeming to give them up as a bad cause, the figure strode towards the door, "If you shall be deaf to the truth even you know, then there is no point in speaking to you. Good day, gentlemen." With that, he flung open the door with unnatural force and swept away. Borgin let out a harrassed breath,

"He's been a lot of trouble, Mr Malfoy. He drove away two customers with his accusations."

Draco saw the opportunity of the conversation to slip away. Praying it would go on for a long time, he caught the door before it closed and sneaked out. After a little searching, he saw the figure lurking in an empty alley. Growing more and more excited, he pushed through a throng of bearded wizards and all but ran into the alley,

"It has been quite a while since I saw you so small." The tongue became Elvish as Noalith pushed back his hood. Though he was in the body of an eleven-year-old, he still had his dark ponytail. His ears, though not the long points of the elves, had a definitive square edge on the corner and his eyes were still sharp and all-seeing. All these features were familiar since Noalith had once visited Ariador as an Ambassador from Lindaria and Hari had introduced him as a close friend,

"You can talk!" Draco grinned down at his diminutive size. Noalith scowled,

"You are as bad as your father; making meaningless comments about my human age!" But there was a hint of a smile playing about his lips, "Hari will be very glad to see you."

"Hari?" Draco's heart missed a beat at the name, He's here?

"He is." Noalith nodded, demonstrating his Rinatula since Draco had not spoken, "He has been here every since you came back home, staying in that public house that is the gate to Diagon Alley."

"The Leaky Cauldron?"

"Yes. He stays there for the last few weeks of the summer in the best room there. If you wish to seek him, his haunt is the bookshop."

Draco's smile brightened, "Great, thanks!" Vaguely hearing his father calling him, he hurried away. As soon as he reached him, he ignored the repremand about wandering off and immediately asked him about going to Flourish and Blotts. Lucius was a little taken-aback by this sudden enthuasiasm but complied to take him there immediately.

Beaming all the way, Draco found himself practically skipping to Flourish and Blotts, attracting stares from passers-by and more confused looks from his father, Let them stare. I will see my Prince soon. Oh, it feels like forever since I've seen him. Every second he was in the human world, he had missed him. The world seemed to crawl and lose all colour without him,

"Slow down, slow down, Draco." His father whispered, who was jogging to keep up, but Draco wasn't listening. He had spotted Flourish and Blotts up ahead. He completely bypassed Blaise Zabini and his mother on the way in, who stared agog after him. The bell above the door rang intrusively above his head, jolting him to the realisation that he did not know what his Prince would look like in human form. He knew Noalith looked much like his Elven self but he wasn't so sure about Hari.

He glanced around, trying to pick out similiar traits. Arawen had said they were of smiliar age in human years but how similiar? Fortunately, there were only a few people around his age and none even had dark hair. He looked more closely, looking for green eyes and pale skin, How can someone so striking beautiful as he be so hard to find?

"Lost, are we?" A familiar voice sent him hurtling back to earth and he jerked his head up to be staring straight into the face of Harry Potter. Draco scowled,

"Go away, Potter. I haven't time for you." He didn't have the will to come up with a clever remark. Thankfully, Potter shrugged offhandly and went upstairs, giving Draco the idea that he hadn't looked up there yet. Resigned to the fact he would probably run into him again, he ascended the steps as soon as Potter was out of sight.

He looked around the place for anyone who was likely to be Hari but there were only a group of middle-aged witches huddled around some new romance novel. He scanned the shelves, the alcoves and the hidden parts again and again, concentrating so hard for a likeness of his Prince. He was concentrating so hard that he forgot to avoid Potter and had turned around the bookshelf he had disappeared to without thinking,

"You are very slow, you know." There he was, leaning against the shelves, grinning. Draco hadn't time to puzzle over what he had said. He turned once more but was caught by the wrist and dragged back, "Take another look, Draco."

"I told you, I haven't time for you." Draco sighed, What on earth did he want? Why won't he let me go? Potter never acted like this. Normally, it was he who tried to avoid Draco, And, why is he calling me Draco anyway?

"Really?" Potter's voice became to an uncharactaristic drawl, "I thought you were looking for me. Or, do you not recognise me?"

It can't be...He looked around to stare at Potter. Raising his other hand, Potter removed his glasses and slicked back his hair, which fell surprisingly easily into place as he smoothed it. Something misty and flesh-coloured came off his face as though he had been wearing powder, revealing bright snow white skin. He was every inch the Prince. Draco could do nothing but goggle in amazement, All this time he was so close and I never noticed! Wait...Oh, Merlin, I've slept with Harry Potter!

"Perhaps my story was lacking." Hari said in Elvish, as he scooped Draco up by his upper arms and placed him on a small table, "I have been watching you from afar at Hogwarts. My persona of Harry Potter prevented me from approaching you and I dared not for fear of rejection. I kept you in Valivial in the hopes that you would fall for me. It was a very small hope but it prevailed."
As if anyone would not fall in love with him! Draco thought, as he thought of Hari's beauty now shining through the human mask. His mind was still realing from the revelation and Hari's penetrating stare was not helping matters. His face was growing hot again, Damn, I thought I'd got over all this. It was like he was a child again when he had first seen the Prince. His face was red, his breathing became irregular and his pulse was racing. Hari smirked,

"Have we been apart for so long that you blush like a schoolgirl whenever you see me again?"

Draco had to say something. But, what to say to the person who he had slept with in Valivial for the last four Elven years and was now standing in the guise of whom he thought was his arch-enemy? "Er..." He stumbled for words, racking his disorientated brain, "...you...Noalith told me that you were staying at the Leaky Cauldron..." If possible, he must have gone an even deeper crimson. Of all things he could have said, it had to be that!

"Yes. I stay there for the last few weeks of the summer holidays here just to buy what I need. Where did you meet Noalith?"
"In Knockturn Alley." Draco said, quickly, glad at least that that Hari did not think he was stupid, "He was arguing with Borgin about prices."

"Ah, yes. Noalith has expertise in merchantile so naturally he would notice if something was overpriced." Hari nodded, distractedly, "Did you see anyone else?"

"No." Draco shook his head. He wasn't expecting to see anyone else from Valivial but he had been told that Maltandir was a master of disguise,

"Many people have come from our world to see the human world. Including Noalith, there are the Princesses of Alqualond and Ithil'orad, with their ladies-in-waiting in tow, and the Prince of Alqualond. But that matters not." A mock sorrow appeared in his face, "Your love for me has faded."

"No, Hari!" Draco gasped. His love had done so such thing. In fact, he felt that it had increased in their time apart,

"Yes, it has." Hari gave an overly dramatic sigh, "We have been reunitied for five minutes and you have not told me how happy you are to see me."

Draco felt the retreating blush come back with full force. He'd been too surprised that his Prince was Harry Potter to do anything like that. His words stumbled again, "Er...er..."

"Well," A predatory look appeared in his eyes, "if you will not, then I shall." Realising what he meant a second too late, Draco kissed back with full force. He never knew how much he had missed his Prince. He felt Hari curl his arms around his waist and he followed suit. Like always when they kissed, he could not distinguish who did what. They were one, as they should be,

"DRACO!"

"Damn," Hari groaned, as they reluctantly separated from each other, brutally becoming two again, "this is not our best place." He leaned in so his lips were inches from Draco's ear, "Room Twenty One. I will be waiting at ten o'clock. Do not fail me."

With that, he helped Draco down from the table, leaving him to walk in a daze outside into the main shop. The meeting had been too short, brutally cut off by his father's calling. He could not help but feel resentful as they left the shop. His father had selfishly taken him from the very thing he had been moping over ever since he got back to that dull, stifling building he called home. He should have had a longer time with Hari. He had only just found him and it wasn't fair that he had so short a time with him.

He remained sulky and quiet all through the day and would not talk to his father unless he needed to. Lucius noticed his sullenness and took great offence at it, "Do you want me to leave you here and forbid you from Malfoy Manor for the night?" He finally snarled, as Draco refused to answer him twice in a row,

Yes, I would like that very much, actually. It would give me an excuse to see my Prince sooner, He thought,

"No, Father." He said out loud, simply to please him. It would seem suspicious to be overly happy about being abandoned by his family.

The whole shopping trip continued in the same vain, Narcissa caught in the strain of the tension between father and son. Normally, she enjoyed it but now, she wanted to get everything over with as quickly as possible. Of course, the disadvantage of this was that they went home early as a result and Draco had to endure hour upon hour of lounging on his bed, doing nothing because anything else was pointless. The hands moved like overweight slugs, dragging time with them, How much more can I take? He thought, hopelessly, as he realised that only a quarter of an hour had passed. Everything seemed to take ages, even the nights. He could not even sleep a wink the first night back home.

Perhaps he could not sleep because of how Elven he had become. He had soaked up so much of Elven ways that he was becoming one himself. As Leonas said, he was 'one step on the side of becoming an elf'. One thing he had noticed was that Elves ate very little. A light meal at the middle of the day was enough. The amount they had varied. The more energetic they would be, the more they ate. When he had asked about it to Leonas, he explained it all. He repeated what he had said in his mind,

"We use energy more efficiently than humans. Humans store excess energy they do not use as body fat but we do no such thing. Nearly every bit of energy has to be used up before we can sleep. We have no places to store it if we do not require it. It can be very inconveniant if we accidently have too much. We may have to stay up whole nights. I have heard of humans having devices in their bodies to make them tired at night; an evolutionary asset. We have no such devices. Even on the blackest night, we do not feel inclined to sleep if we have too much energy."

How am I going to manage in Hogwarts then? Draco thought suddenly, I will have to eat three times a day or people will think something's wrong! He began to worry about what he would do at night, But Hari's been through all this. He'll know. He couldn't help but feel relaxed with the prospect of asking Hari. Though he knew it wasn't what Hari was looking forward that night. Perhaps he would ask him in the morning.

He refused to come down to dinner. His new worries about eating too were taking hold of him by that time. His mother looked as though she would drag him downstairs for a moment but then gave up. She went downstairs, saying he would have to come downstairs if he wanted any leftovers. He would not come. He would not tell his mother that he would be out that night. She only came in his room around midday everyday and he was undisturbed in the morning. No one would notice.

Finally, after what felt like an excruciating eternity, the hands on the clock read five minutes to ten. He had wanted to get there early but was wary that Hari would be in the middle of something and would not appreciate it. He knew that Hari specified times for a reason. He slumped off his bed and, just as an extra precaution, stuffed some castaway clothes under his bedspread.

Then, wearing the sparsest clothing possible, he crept from his room and across the hall. He could hear his parents downstairs talking. He would not need the drawing room fireplace. The one in his parents' room would do. But that was all the way across the corridor. Crouching in the sneak position he had been taught by Elivor, he stretched out his leg. Step by step he took, his heart racing, he got nearer and nearer to the door.

Finally, he managed it. Creeping within, he found the room mercifully open and the fireplace ready. He crept across the floor, knowing that the new house elf could always turn up any moment. Once close enough, he tossed the pinch of Floo Powder he had stolen, stepped within and called, "The Leaky Cauldron, Room Twenty One."

After a moment of dizzying motion, he shot out of the fireplace only to be caught by strong, warm familiar arms. Looking up, he saw his Prince in full Elven beauty though looking slightly odd in a black cotton shirt and trousers. The shirt was tantilisingly opened by a few buttons at the top, showing his snow-white chest. In one swift motion, Hari whisked up Draco's Suppression Rosary (which held onto his upper arm) and pulled it off.

It had been strange enough wearing it for the first time but taking it off was even stranger. Instead of the feeling of donning a layer of clothing, he felt it lift at once and what a relief it was. He almost breathed out a sigh as his hair grew and his skin paled even more. He even felt warmer than before. He never noticed how cold he had felt before. Or was that because he was without his Prince?

A/N: Well, was that alright? Was that worth over a month's wait?