Chapter 2:
When Harry came to, he was standing (swaying more like) in a polished, marble-like chamber with an incredibly high vaulted ceiling. He blinked and stared around him in awe. The chamber was large, with crystal lighting fixtures (or Harry assumed them to be crystal) and large windows with thin panes of glass. The windows were large, arched, and many in number. The soft, pale colours of the marble and bright light streaming through the glass lit up the room with a soft glow. The effect was impressive, and Harry couldn't say he wasn't impressed. Whoever these beings were, they were obviously very wealthy and master artisans.
The two beings stepped in front of Harry and his aunt - who almost seemed to Harry like she wanted to reach out and draw him away from them - and smiled at him, gesturing to the chamber. Harry smiled hesitantly back, still nervous and uncertain. The male being spoke a few warm words. Then they turned around and started walking.
"Come on," Aunt Petunia said sourly, "and stay close, keep your head down, and for goodness sakes don't say anything."
Harry made as if to follow his aunt before remembering his trunk and turned to go back for it.
"Leave it!" She snapped at him.
Harry hastily followed her out of the chamber's only single arch that wasn't a window, glancing mournfully over his shoulder at the lone trunk sitting in the middle of the floor. Looking at it now (the floor, not the trunk), Harry realised there was a large circular pattern on the stone and wondered if it had anything to do with the transporting circle they'd been in before.
Still, he had his wand with him, and that was all he really needed for the moment.
The beings were quite a ways ahead of them and didn't bother to stop and wait for them to catch up, so Aunt Petunia was able to whisper frantically in Harry's ear. He began to grow more and more alarmed at every word she spoke and started to regret not putting up a fight over coming.
"When we get to the throne room, do exactly as I do and do not speak, are we clear?" Petunia was hissing.
Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Throne room? Oh dear.
"I am going to try and get us out of this situation as best as I can, but be prepared for a long stay," she continued.
Harry asked: what on earth was she talking about?
"I mean, if you hadn't taken it into your fool head to come downstairs they might have come and gone without being any the wiser that you were alive!" Petunia snapped.
"But why would they care about me?" Harry whispered anxiously.
Petunia was silent, not answering, and Harry took the opportunity to look around at where they were going. They were in a corridor that looked very similar to the room they'd just been in, decorated by large arching windows filled with sunlight, and crystal fixtures with softly glowing balls of lights; leaving no shadows in their wake. Harry tried looking out the windows, but they appeared to be high up and so all he saw were clouds and the tips of a few shining spiral towers.
"Just leave the talking to me," Harry's aunt finally responded, "there might be hope left yet."
"Whatever's going on, it doesn't seem too bad," Harry told her.
Petunia's face twisted in a scowl and she muttered, "You have no idea."
A few moments later. "Whatever you do, don't be defiant, as I know you are prone to being."
"Hey!" exclaimed Harry indignantly. Petunia shot him a look as if to say, 'see?'
Harry flushed and mumbled, "All right, I'll try to be good."
"You won't try," Aunt Petunia stressed, "you will. Because if you don't, you may never leave this place again. I spent half my life trying to get out and so did your mother, so don't make all our hard work go to shame."
Harry gaped. "Wh-what?" He spluttered.
But his Aunt Petunia didn't say anything else and marched on silently, slowly starting to catch up to the beings ahead of them. Harry was left wondering what on earth his aunt had meant by that last statement and what was really going on. Really, how could she say something like that and then leave him hanging? It was cruel and unusual punishment, in Harry's opinion. Or maybe pay back. He couldn't tell.
So, he tried his best not to think of the implications of what his auntmight have meant.
Eventually they passed out of the corridor and took a couple of wide spiral stairs down wards. Everywhere they went there were large windows and lots of light, which Harry thought really suited the beings because of their ethereal appearance.
They began to see more arches and the occasional door lining the corridors which led off into more sun lit rooms, and decorations began to pop up. Harry saw several beautifully depicted wall murals, floor mosaics, delicate sculptures and even living plants with increasing frequency as they went deeper into the...castle? Palace? He wasn't sure where they were, or even if it was a singular building, but whatever it was, the architecture was breath-taking.
Then more of the elfin-like beings began to appear.
They passed the first one in a corridor and she stopped walking and gaped at the two humans as they passed. Then more began to appear in archways and doorways and Harry felt like he was on display in a zoo as all their strange eyes bored into his back. He also desperately wished he'd changed out of his ratty pyjamas before coming, because he felt woefully undressed, awkward, and ugly in his old, faded, too-large t-shirt and flannel pants. He felt his face flush slightly as they walked and tried to hide it by ducking his head. He also felt in his pants pocket for his wand for reassurance.
At some point Harry glanced up at his Aunt Petunia to gauge her reaction to all the attention and their surroundings, and somehow he wasn't surprised to see her walking confidently with a mild look of distaste on her face, as if this was a normal occurrence. He wanted desperately to ask his aunt who these beings were and why they were staring, but he didn't dare speak out loud because he'd surely be heard. Harry had long ago decided that in cases such as these, he ought to listen to instructions and keep his mouth shut and head down.
So he did.
Harry didn't know how long they walked, but eventually they halted in front of two rather grand and impressive doors. They were made out of some sort of pale wood with depictions of the elfin beings and nature in metallic threads of what looked like gold, silver, bronze and maybe some crystal. Harry raised his head high enough to admire them, ignoring the eyes staring at him from around the edges of the chamber they were in.
Their two guides turned around and spoke to Aunt Petunia about something (Harry didn't know what, obviously) after which Aunt Petunia turned around and told Harry in no uncertain terms to follow her lead and doexactly as instructed, or else. He didn't know what the "or else" could mean, but decided to not to press his luck. Aunt Petunia could be very scary sometimes. He nodded his head and Petunia seemed somewhat satisfied. She turned back around and snapped at the two beings to "Get on with it!"
Harry craned his neck around his aunt to get a better look when the door started to swing silently open. This proved to be a bit stupid in retrospect, because as soon as Harry caught sight of the couple sitting on the thrones in the centre of the long room, all else faded into the background, including Aunt Petunia's warnings to keep his head down and be inconspicuous.
They were the most beautiful beings Harry had ever seen, even the male. The female had a face shaped so finely, it looked to be made of porcelain. It was painted sparsely with something that sparkled, but what caught Harry's attention were the delicate metal ornaments on her cheekbones and forehead, going up to weave into her mass of reddish bronze curls. He was really too far away to see all the intricacies of her hair, but there must have been so many different weaves of crystal, gem-like orbs and metal twinning, that it had probably taken days to get it right. She had a lot of hair too. Looking at it reminded Harry of his mother's hair, though this woman's was far lighter. But then, her eyes also glittered an emerald green - just like Lily Potter. (How Harry could see this from so far away, he wasn't sure, but they seemed to shine and glow like most of the being's eyes that he'd seen so far).
Her clothes on the other hand were more than exotic. Different shades of green and bronze and silver (which reminded Harry terribly of Slytherin) decorated her corset, which seemed so finely made that it would shatter into a million pieces at any second. Her skirt was see-through filmy green which Harry swore had a life of it's own, because it kept moving even though the woman didn't. Fortunately for Harry's virgin eyes, she was wearing a pair of not-so-see-through pants underneath the dress which fell in shimmering folds around her legs, leaving nothing to the imagination. On her feet were woven metal sandals which glinted in the light. (Harry had, by now, picked up the crucial theme of light throughout the castle and its inhabitants, as well as their penchant for fine metals and crystals).
Petunia was moving forward and it obscured Harry's view slightly, which broke the spell. He blinked and straightened, but before he could duck his head and pretend he wasn't staring, the woman was back in view. His eyes riveted on her sparkling necklace which dropped to a V near her breasts. Blushing, he quickly looked elsewhere.
Fortunately, Petunia moved into his line of sight again, her head turned slightly to glare angrily at Harry for not following her. He quickly jerked into movement, following behind his aunt closer to the two beings. Instead of allowing himself to be taken in by the glittering female again, Harry turned his attention to her male counterpart. While he was also beautiful, he held a certain masculinity that clearly screamed 'male' at anyone who looked. A broader chest and shoulders and a much firmer jaw for starters. He wasn't decorated in metal, but had a simple circlet on his brow (well, it had a bit of a pattern to it which was distinctly Celtic in nature, as far as Harry could tell). His hair was blond and his eyes also green. No jewellery for him, but he did have on a rather nifty cloak. Otherwise he was dressed exactly the same way as their escorts, but in much finer cloth - a hardened jerkin over a filmy tunic and the same kind of pants his female companion wore, with a waistband and more fabric draped between his legs. He wore some really neat boots (according to Harry) which went up to mid calf and looked supple and soft and were also green.
Harry rightly guessed that green was the 'in' colour at the moment.
Then, he was broken out of his observations when Petunia sank to the floor in an imitation of a deep curtsy (Aunt Petunia was, of course, not wearing the proper sort of dress one is supposed to wear when curtsying like that, but she made do). Remembering what he had been told, but pretty sure that his aunt didn't mean for him to curtsy, Harry dropped to one knee and bowed his head, imitating the two scouts who had lowered a second before him. Then, he almost made the grave mistake of raising his head, but managed to see out of the corner of his eye that no one else had moved, so tried to stay perfectly still.
He didn't know how long they stayed like that, but it was long enough for sweat to start beading at his neck and trickle down his back. His legs were just about to cramp when the female (the Queen, Harry could only assume by now) spoke a few words. His muscles tensed, but he didn't move, waiting to see if everyone else moved first.
Harry's judgement had been sound. No one had moved. Once again, his survival skills had reared their head.
The male (the King?) now said something and there was a muffled reply from the two escorts.
Harry kept waiting, and as he waited, he thought. He thought about everything that had happened so far and wondered why he wasn't more startled or scared. He guessed that maybe he'd gotten over being surprised by these sorts of things a long time ago, or at least, he was able to hide it better. He thought also about the strange way his aunt was acting and what it could mean. His mind came up with wild idea after wild idea, and they were all dismissed as being absurd...but even so, Harry couldn't help but shudder at the implications of some of them - if they, by some slim chance, were actually true…
The King and the escorts continued to exchange words, and in order to clear his mind, Harry focused on their speech.
The language really was beautiful...but there was something about it that had Harry's hackles raised by now. Something strange. He couldn't quite work out what it was, but it made him uneasy. He hadn't noticed it before, but after having listened to it some more, there was definitely something there that just struck him aswrong in his mind. He was reminded of those times when he had an instant of deja vu, as if the scene had happened before and he was simply re-acting it. But that was a ridiculous thought of course, since he'd never imagined anything like this before - ever!
Suddenly, the Queen spoke.
"Taswafáne-aránelle."
Aunt Petunia's head jerked up and Harry gave a start at the sudden movement.
The Queen spoke again and Petunia tensed visibly. After another lengthy monologue on the part of the Queen, Harry's aunt was clearly angry and distressed. Still, she managed to look cold and scornful, even from her bowed position.
"I'm happier than I ever was here," she finally spoke into a heavy silence, and Harry had to wonder just what on earth they were talking about. He felt like he should know, he really did. After all, Aunt Petunia knew!
But...how?
The Queen sounded angry when she finally replied.
"My apologies," Petunia said stiffly, "I have been like this for more than two decades, it is too difficult."
Been like what? Harry wondered.
"It cannot form the proper sounds," she said again in response to something else.
The King interrupted this time, dismissing the two guides. They rose and walked out silently. Harry debated rising as well, but Petunia hadn't told him to yet or made any gestures, so he kept still, his legs now really cramping. He gritted his teeth and told himself it was nothing compared to the Cruciatus.
When the guides had left the room and shut the door behind them, Petunia finally rose. Harry glanced at his aunt out of the corner of his eye and noticed she was making little rising motions with her fingers. He rose stiffly, but didn't look up enough to stare either monarch in the eye. He didn't think that was a good idea.
There was perhaps a minute of silence before Petunia finally asked, "So who told you to come searching?"
The Queen leaned forward eagerly, gesturing at Harry, and said something excitedly. Petunia didn't respond to this so the Queen tried again.
"Harry, lift your head," Aunt Petunia ordered quietly and with a hint of regret.
Harry dutifully raised his head so his face was no longer shielded by the shadow of his hair. The Queen was staring right at him and when his eyes met hers, she smiled.
Harry couldn't repress the shiver. There was something about that smile that reminded him of a satisfied cat - the kind that had just successfully brought down a bird and was proud of its kill. Harry felt like that bird.
"Indilaira," she breathed out.
Petunia jerked. So did Harry. Something about that word struck a cord deep within him. But the worst part was that it shouldn't have. He sucked in a deep breath.
The King leaned over and whispered something to his wife and the Queen nodded. She turned and gestured to Petunia, clearly a dismissal. Aunt Petunia clenched her jaw and shook her head.
"No, not yet. At least let me explain some things to him. He doesn't speak a word of Elwýnllambe, he'll be completely lost." Petunia's voice was pleading.
Harry wondered if Elwýnllambe was the language everyone at this place was speaking. If so, Aunt Petunia was right, he was completely lost.
The King and Queen debated over the request for a moment before they agreed - if the relieved sagging of Petunia's shoulders and her "Thank you, Tar'Allàwhta and Tar'Thalyón" was anything to go by.
"Come along Harry," said Aunt Petunia to him. She reached out and griped his wrist loosely, pulling him along behind her and leaving the King and Queen on their thrones. "I'm to take you to your room, and while we walk I need to explain a few things to you."
They passed through the doors quickly enough and right into a crowd of curious onlookers. Petunia threaded her way through them, ignoring their excited jabbering and acute fear of being touched by both herself and Harry. He found this a little strange, but useful, as they scattered in his aunt's wake, leaving a wide path for them to walk through. He glanced at her expression, searching for the murderous look that was surely plastered across her face.
None.
Harry concluded that these beings were simply bonkers.
Once they were in less crowded halls, Harry disengaged his wrist and asked a question that had been burning on the tip of his tongue ever since they'd left the throne room (mind, there were so many questions that this one was only the tip of the iceberg).
"What's Indillayrah?"
Petunia's lips thinned.
Harry tried again. "Please? I-I don't know why, but it's familiar. I think I've heard it before."
She still didn't say anything, but her expression paled.
They started heading up wards, taking stairs and going up what could only be towers.
"Aunt Petunia! You said you'd explain!"
Petunia stopped walking for a moment and turned on Harry with an unreadable expression on her face.
"I know," she whispered, "but I don't want to. I've been running from this for twenty years, and I'd all but forgotten it and...and now this!" She waved her hands around, gesturing at the splendour around her as if it was causing her very existence to crumble.
Harry was silent after this, not knowing if there anything he could say to offer comfort, or even if he should say anything at all. Aunt Petunia began walking again and silence persisted until they arrived at a guarded door.
As soon as they appeared to be heading towards the ornately decorated door (it reminded Harry of a smaller version of the throne room door), the guards stood to attention and crossed their long spears to block the way. When Aunt Petunia kept going and walked right up to them, one of the guards said something, to which Aunt Petunia responded with a few words that Harry recognised. They were the words that the Queen had spoken to his aunt when she was first addressed - Taswafáne-aránelle.
These seemed to be the magic words, because the guards' eyes widened and they immediately lowered their spears, staring at Aunt Petunia in wonder.
The guard on the left repeated the words in a question, to which Aunt Petunia nodded 'yes'. Both guards stared some more.
"Well?" Petunia finally snapped impatiently. The guards quickly pulled open the doors, looking embarrassed. They watched Harry curiously as he passed through, following his aunt. He felt their gaze on his back before the doors closed as well.
"We're safe to talk," Aunt Petunia broke the silence. Harry quickly caught up to her and watched her eagerly, waiting for her to speak and explain what was going on.
"I suppose I should start off with where we are, shouldn't I?" She asked rhetorically. "We're in the kingdom of Elwýn,home to the Elwý, or what you would otherwise call 'Elves'.
"Elves?" Harry gasped, though really he wasn't all that surprised. "You don't mean like House Elves do you?"
He pictured Dobby in his head in all his tea-towel glory and decided that had been a stupid question.
Petunia stared at him blankly.
Harry clarified. "Um, small, elf-like creatures with big ears and large eyes who are bonded to wizards as slaves-"
"Absolutely not!" Aunt Petunia interrupted with a screech, clearly aghast. "Don't ever, and I mean ever, insinuate such a thing again, especially not in front of the Elwý or you won't like the consequences."
"Sorry, sorry!" Harry said quickly, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace.
Aunt Petunia snorted. Suddenly, she stopped walking and Harry almost crashed into her. She was standing in front of a pair of beautiful doors, just like the ones outside the hall, though with only a few small veins of gold covering part of the doors, not the whole thing.
"This should be it," she sighed, twisting her head to glance over her shoulder briefly, an unreadable look on her face. Harry turned around, only to be faced with a similar door, but this one decorated in silver instead of gold.
"Your new room," Petunia announced, opening the doors and pushing them wide. "A room fit for a prince." She laughed derisively.
Harry stared.
The room was...there was no way to take everything in at once. Everything but the walls was made of the same white wood as the doors with weaves of gold and crystal lights, so the whole room glittered. There were large stone arches that led out onto a balcony. Filmy green and white curtains blew gently, which draped over and between the windows and the archways. Soft white fur rugs decorated the floor. The colour theme seemed to be green, white and gold, because that's what colour the bed-spread and hangings were, along with the mosaics on the walls and the heavier curtains separating one last arch. Harry assumed it led into a bathroom.
He stopped admiring the room when Petunia shut the doors firmly behind her and sat down on one of the strange, Greek-like couches. Almost like a chaise.
"Sit down." She gestured to another couch. "You'll need to with what I'm about to tell you."
Harry sat.
Petunia cleared her throat. "Where to start? I suppose I could let you ask the questions."
Harry had to squash the anticipation that was welling in his chest and tried to think of his most pressing question first.
"Indillayrah? What is…?" He finally asked.
Petunia's mouth twisted.
Harry waited with bated breath, somehow feeling that the answer to this question would be the answer to them all. Finally, Aunt Petunia spoke.
"A better way to ask that would be 'who'. Who is Indilaira?"
Harry blinked. So Indilaira was a person? Why wasn't he more surprised by this? Had he somehow known?
"All right," he said, "Who is she?"
Petunia looked up sharply. "How did you know it was a woman?"
Harry froze. How indeed. "I-I don't know. It sounded…?"
"And how," Petunia demanded, "would you know what's supposed to sound female and what's supposed to sound male?"
Feeling cornered and oh-so-very uncertain, Harry snapped back. "How wouldyou know?"
Aunt Petunia sighed warily, "There's no way to put this gently." She paused and waited for Harry to absorb this, process it and act accordingly. He blinked. "I am from Elwýn."
Aunt Petunia didn't have to wait long for Harry's reaction. First there was confusion, then, as all the nuts and bolts began to click into place, understanding dawned and he gave a strangled yelp.
"W-what?" He stuttered.
"I amElwý."
"B-but..." Harry stopped and swallowed. "Th-that's not possible. Y-you're human. Like me, like mum!"
Petunia closed her eyes, clearly pained. "I am not human, however much I wish I were."
"Impossible," whispered Harry, "you look nothing like...and Mum..."
"I am wearing a potion-created 'skin' and Harry..." For once Petunia was speaking softly to him, for once she was using his name and trying to comfort him. Too bad it at the same time that she was revealing truths that were shattering Harry's world and perceptions. "Harry...Lily was Elwý too."
Harry worked his jaw uselessly, trying to understand what Petunia was inferring. Did that mean...did that mean he wasn't human either? No, it couldn't! Harry looked down at his hands, felt his face and his hair and his ears. No, Harry Potter was one hundred percent human, that was for sure.
There was just simply no way! He clutched at his perfectly human ears and stared blankly at his aunt.
"That won't prove anything," Aunt Petunia said, gesturing at his body as he checked himself over. "Lily would have made sure you were wearing a skin too. Or you might have been born into it, which is more likely." She frowned and peered at him. "I wonder if it's permanent. You could truly be human for all intents and purposes."
"Huh?"
Harry's aunt was smiling now. "This could save us!" She exclaimed. "They might not want you like this!"
"What? Who might not want me? Let me go? Aunt Petunia, I don't understand!" Harry felt a headache coming on - one of those panic induced headaches that came with great stress and shock. However, one crucial thing that his aunt was saying did get through to him, and that was that he might be human after all. Harry latched onto this piece of information and clung to it like a dying man a piece of driftwood lost at sea.
"The King and Queen of course," she responded.
"What?" Harry exclaimed, shocked. "Why would they want me?"
"Well, you are Lily's only son."
"Well yeah, but is it because I might be part Elwuhye?" The word was somewhat strange on his tongue and he knew immediately that he hadn't pronounced it correctly.
"Part?" Petunia asked, raising an eyebrow.
Harry blanched. "O-of course! My dad was James Potter, a wizard!" His voice was desperate, begging his aunt not to reveal anything worse.
James Potter had to be his father, he simply had to. If Harry got told that the one man he had always thought of as his father was truly not, then...well, he didn't know what he'd do!
What Petunia said next wasn't exactly what Harry was dreading, but it was bad enough.
"Don't be stupid! If Lily was Elwý, then so was James!"
"I-I-I'm..." He trailed off miserably, shocked worse than before. How was that even possible? Everyone talked about the Potters being such a well-known pureblood family of wizards, how could they possibly be elves? Even Sirius had said he'd known James all his life! Suddenly thinking of Sirius sent a pang of hurt straight to his heart and Harry focused on the imminent situation at hand.
"So they want me because I'm...I'm an ELF??" Harry finally managed, mildly hysterical, trying and not succeeding in imagining himself looking like the elven beings from earlier.
His aunt nodded her head.
"So-so why don't they want you as well?" He asked faintly, mind whirring at a mile a minute trying to piece everything together and ask the right questions.
"I was exiled," she responded simply.
"What?" Harry asked, shocked, and wondering how many more times he could be shocked in one day. (He reckoned with his rather unfortunate luck, a few more times at least).
"I was exiled to the mortal realm for marrying a human," Petunia explained.
Harry's eyes widened. "I-I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Petunia snapped, "I planned it that way. I wanted away from this horrid place."
Harry looked around him at the beauty and splendour and wondered if his aunt was crazy, or at least severely delusional. Then again, for someone married to the likes of Vernon Dursley, Harry wouldn't put it past his aunt to be somewhat insane.
Suddenly he paled, something having just occurred to him.
"Is...is...Dudley...?" He asked faintly, already green at the thought.
"Half," Petunia confirmed.
Harry wanted to throw up. The thought of Dudley as...as...the image was not a pleasant one.
"Yuck," he muttered. Fortunately, Petunia didn't hear or Harry might have been screeched at.
"Don't worry," said Petunia, "they won't come after Dudley. He's been tainted with human blood." She said the word sarcastically. "Although it is more than likely that the non-magical human blood negated most, if not all of his Elwýn heritage, so he should never have a problem." She sounded relieved at this thought. Harry personally thought that maybe acquiring some magic might do the bullying boy some good. He would gain a whole new perspective on life...not to mention Harry would then be the one lording over Dudley and not the other way around.
Just then, he remembered his very first question.
"Who isIndilaira?" He asked solemnly, somehow knowing he wouldn't like the answer, but fortunately pronouncing it properly.
Aunt Petunia paused, equally solemn, before responding. "Lily."
And somehow Harry had known.
"I-I knew that," he whispered, feeling sick again, because he shouldn'thave known that. If everything Petunia was saying was a lie, or a delusion, or some stupid joke, then Harry should not have known that. Some fundamental part of his hastily constructed denial came tumbling down.
"And you," he continued, barely noticing his aunt's pinched face, "you must be Taswafáne-aránelle."
Petunia's face grew alarmed. Suddenly she looked around, as if expecting someone to pop out of the corners of the room, before leaning forward and staring Harry straight in the eye.
"Repeat exactly what I'm about to say to you back to me, all right?"
Harry nodded.
Aunt Petunia spoke carefully, enunciating each syllable so that Harry could hear them, although somehow her speech lacked the particular lilt that the rest of the elves' had had. Still, he dutifully listened and tried his best to repeat the phrase, whatever it was. Surprisingly enough, he didn't have as much trouble with it as he thought he might. It came out almost naturally.
"Wha?" He frowned.
Aunt Petunia sighed and rubbed her temples.
"I was afraid of this," she murmured.
"Afraid of what?" Harry demanded, feeling his panic start to creep back again.
"I'm afraid that you'll find picking up the elven language - Elwýnllambe - extremely easy."
"I don't get it."
Petunia glared at him. "It's like this; Lily and James were both elves, thus, it is highly likely that they spoke Elwýnllambe with you as a child. Now, because an elf's brain is more developed than a human's-"
Harry interrupted her here with an exclaimed "What!" of indignation.
"Shut up!" Petunia snapped. "I didn't mean humans are stupider, just that an elf has more power over their mind by instinct, whereas humans use considerably less of their true brain power. Now, because an elf is like this, they are able to learn and develop much more quickly as children. We also remember much more, from much younger ages, and with much more clarity." She paused, allowing Harry to take all this in.
And take it in he did. Everything was ringing a bell with him. He'd always had such vivid childhood memories of the Dursleys, although he'd always just assumed that was because they had been somewhat unforgettable, to put it mildly. And then he remembered having those dreams about the day his parents died, and remembering Hagrid flying him on Sirius' motorbike (he ignored the pang this thought brought).
Harry swallowed, feeling closer and closer to a possible melt down.
"S-so...Mum and Dad spoke to me in…?"
Petunia nodded stiffly.
"Oh." Harry's voice was small.
"This is bad," Petunia said, "it means that the likelihood of you being simply human is almost all but ruled out, but we might still be able to use that argument. So, whatever you do, don't let on that you know more than you do. They'll start teaching you, but pretend you don't understand, okay?"
Harry nodded solemnly, mind frantically latching onto that one word -almost. Aunt Petunia had said almost all, notcompletely. In Harry's books that meant there was still a chance - still a chance that this was all just some silly dream, or that the elves had the wrong Harry Potter. (This thought was perhaps more absurd than any previous ones, but Harry's mind wasn't really making much sense at this point).
He opened his mouth to ask some more questions, but before he could the door opened. Two guards stood in the entrance (not the ones from earlier), holding Harry's trunk. They entered the room and placed the slightly beaten looking brown trunk down at the foot of the bed. It looked very out of place.
The two guards made a funny sort of bow at Petunia and Harry, as if not quite sure how to bow to two humans, and then said something to Petunia. Her lips thinned and her face tightened.
"Can't I have more time?" She asked.
The guards stared at her blankly.
Petunia sighed and closed her eyes, as if in pain. Slowly, she opened her mouth, and this time the words she spoke were in Elwýnllambe. She was clearly annoyed to speak it and she had to enunciate each word carefully again. Harry, all too aware that he knew more than he should, heard the differences in her speech and the speech of the guards.
However, she was clearly understood, because one of the two guards shook his head 'no' and said something. Aunt Petunia stood up.
"Harry," she began, "I'm sorry we don't have more time. They're forcing me out, even though not much time has passed. I promise you I will do all I can to get you out of here. Do what I told you to, don't reveal too much. Try to convince them that you are not what they want." The guards gestured impatiently. Petunia shot them a look and started walking slowly. She looked over her shoulder at Harry. "But whatever you do, do what they tell you. Don't cross them, or the consequences could be bad. Make sure you're still in once piece when I come back to get you." She paused at the door. "For what it's worth, I am sorry Harry. I tried, I really did, and I wouldn't wish this on even you."
She left the room.
The last thing Harry saw or heard of his aunt before he was left alone was a faint "Good luck" floating back through the open door, and then it was shut.
AN: Ok, well, I don't want anyone getting angry that this took so long to come out. If you remember, I did warn everyone that I wouldn't be updating often. And to be frank, come on people, SIX reviews? That's IT? I have 17 alerts for this and over 200 hits, but only 6 reviews?
Sighs
Ok ok, guess I can't expect too much from just the first chapter. Right, I'll stop being disappointed. Sorry.
To those of you who DID review, thank you SO much. It was because of you that I even posted this next chapter :) So thank you, I really appreciated them.
Anyway, the reason this took so long to come out even though I already had it typed was because I completely re-wrote one crucial element of the plot and then decided to go through the rest of the scenes I had written and change those as well. THEN I came back and decided I'd gone a bit overboard with the description. Yes, people, there used to be MORE description. See, I originally had like 4 paragraphs to describe the King and Queen because I actually drew pictures first, THEN wrote the chapter. But then I decided, if you really want to know what she looks like, you can go look at the picture and not have to muddle through 4 paragraphs of badly written chocolate-high induced descriptive prose.
Heh.
So speaking of pictures. I found these absolutely gorgeous architectural pieces on Deviant Art, so if you want to know what the palace looks like, then take this picture of the white tower/castle: http:// snowskadi .deviantart .com/art /White-Tower- 69872081 (remove spaces)
...and stick it's architecture over the setting of THIS scene: http:// snowskadi .deviantart .com/ art/ 234-75403316 (again, remove the spaces)
So have fun with that. Excellent artist with stunning works!
Aaaaanddd, my exceedingly poor attempt at doing the Elf Queen on MY deviant art: http:// hexe-cobalt .deviantart .com I'm sure you can figure out which one is the elf queen. I'm warning you though, it's a work in progress. When I finally get it finished, I'll post the link again in a later chapter so you can all see her in her fully finished glory. I'm completely revamping her face btw. So don't think that's what she looks like.
Eh...yeah...that's about it.
Oh, more reviews please? I know this fic is cliché, it's meant to be, but I also like to think it's decently written and I'd really like some feedback on that. Or you can simply tell me how much you like it (if you tell me how much you DON'T like it, then WHY are you even reading it, let alone reviewing it??) And is it just me, or is this chapter much more serious? I think it is. Oh well.
Ok, I'm done now, honest.
xoxRia
