It was a hot summer day at number four Privet Drive, the heat beating down made bodies sticky with sweat. One particular body was that of young Harry Potter, recently returned home from his second year at Hogwarts. Already he was missing the old castle, with the comfortable dorm room, spacious common room, and all the friends he'd made there. So far things hadn't been much worse than the year before. If anything they tried to pretend he didn't exist until they needed him for something. Wiping the sweat off of his brow he looked around the yard and sighed. Everything was finally done. Just in time for him to help with dinner too.
Before going back inside he took the hose to his shoes, making sure they were clean of any dirt, and dried them as best he could. Aunt Petunia always got mad if he came inside with dirt on his shoes. Slipping the gloves off his hands he opened the front door and closed it behind him. From the living room he could see his Uncle, Vernon, sitting on the couch with a glass of lemonade. The sound of the evening news was loud enough that Aunt Petunia could hear it in the kitchen, since both of them liked to keep on top of things and make snide remarks about anything they deemed abnormal.
"...and now the visiting Lord of the Eldar would like to make a statement." Taking off his shoes he turned to glance at the television. Just under a year ago, right after he'd gone back to Hogwarts, a new kind of people arrived in England. At first nobody could believe it when a large contingent of Elven warriors, wearing full armor, came riding into a sleepy farming village out in the countryside. After all these Elves were like nothing the Magical world, or the Mundane world, had ever seen before. Rather than get involved, however, the Magical world closed itself off from the people calling themselves the Eldar. Hermione mentioned, when she received the London Times from her parents at Hogwarts the previous year, how much of a shame that was. The Elves were graceful, noble, and very intelligent. She was thoroughly invested in learning about how they had crossed through dimensions and wouldn't shut up about it most of the year.
"Aragail, my son. These years away from home must have been hard for you. Not knowing who you are, not understanding why you are different. I just want you to know that we will not stop our search..." Hearing something familiar he turned toward the television and squinted at the tall Eldar Lord standing at the podium. Wearing clothes from wherever they had come from, rather than a normal suit, he looked regal, stern, yet also kind. Something about him seemed almost welcoming, though he supposed he was also intimidated a little. Out of the speech Harry thought he recognized one or two of the words spoken, his head hurting as he tried to comprehend. Was this something to do with his magic?
"Boy! What are you doing lazing about there, staring into space like that. Get cleaned up and start on the potatoes." Hearing the high, whiny, and angry voice of his Aunt he jumped slightly before going into the bathroom to clean off. Looking at his reflection in the mirror he blinked as something seemed to ghost over the glass. Spooked he hurried into the kitchen and got to work, he'd have time to think of things later that night when he was in his room alone.
Since that day in the hall Harry had random bouts of staring off into space. It was like he was trying to remember a vague dream, something important. It didn't take long until even the Dursleys began to to notice and berate him for it, telling him that his 'freakishness' must be effecting his intelligence. All through the week his nights were plagued by strange, cryptic, dreams and terrifying nightmares. He'd wake in his bed, covered in sweat, certain that something was hunting him.
That night it was much of the same. Before bed he had this feeling of dread and stared, tiredly, at the ceiling before eventually nodding off.
The sound of metal grating against metal. Cold, harsh, wind against his face. White, everything was white. Yells of anger, screams of pain, and a soft voice came to him in a jumble. Fear, sharp and all encompassing made him tremble and cry, the wetness on his cheeks making the wind feel even colder. Suddenly he saw a face. Pale, beautiful, and safe. A gentle voice spoke to him from a corner of his mind. A word, so familiar it stirred his very soul. A name. His name.
Waking with a start, his breathing heavy as he slowly came back to himself, he reached for his glasses on the nightstand and jammed them onto his face. This was his room, the one at the Dursley's. So why did it feel so wrong for him to be there? Not the usual kind of wrong either, the feeling of being unwanted. But something told him this was never were he was meant to be in the first place.
As the dream slowly began to fade he reached under the bed and pulled out a flashlight and a small journal, scribbling down as much as he could. When he was finished he nibbled on the end of the pen as he looked over the notes he'd made. None of it really made sense until he came to the last word.
"Aragail?" Saying it out loud he slowly came to realize that the way he spoke the word was not the way he'd written it. The word itself was made with strange symbols he'd never seen before and yet his mind could translate it into sound so easily. Why he'd written it that way, he didn't know. Shaking slightly he heard Hedwig rustle around in her cage and looked up at her, smiling as calmly as he could.
"It's alright Hedwig, I'll be fine. It's just a bad dream." Putting the journal and flashlight back he lay in bed again and let the thoughts swirl around in his mind a while longer before he eventually fell back asleep.
Waking around six he headed downstairs to start breakfast, knowing that Uncle Vernon would be up and about soon. Setting the kettle to boil in the kitchen he spotted the previous day's newspaper lying on the table. Picking it up, with the intent to put it in the dust bin, he spotted the main article. It was reiterating the press conference held by the government on behalf of the Lord Elrond. At the bottom was the contact information for anyone who might have a tip to help the Lord find his missing son.
'Elrond's son...' Spacing out again he missed the hissing of the kettle and had to rush back into the kitchen, almost burning himself on the hot metal as it began to whistle shrilly. Pouring water into the teapot he made sure everything was ready. Just in time too. Vernon came down the stairs a few minutes later and snapped at him about breakfast. Hiding the newspaper behind the breadbox for later he went outside to bring his Uncle the days paper before going back to cooking. It wasn't long before his Uncle was leaving for work and his Aunt was up. As soon as he got the chance to run back upstairs he took it, hiding the paper under his arm. Luckily Dudley was still asleep or he might not have had a chance.
Sitting at his desk he stared at the paper for quite a while, pondering what he should do.
"What if I don't really know anything and just waste their time?" He said aloud. Hedwig, from inside her cage, made a mewling sound, somewhere between a whistle and a screech. Looking up at her he smiled. She always seemed to respond to him when he spoke, like she knew what he was saying and was adding her two pennies worth.
"I guess I won't really know unless I try. What's the worst that can happen?" Of course, he'd been wrong before. After about an hour of brainstorming he finally started writing.
'To whomever receives this letter,
Recently I saw your speech given on the telly. Since then I seem to be having these strange nightmares and often find myself waking up with a sense of deja vu. I know that this is going to sound odd but there is one thing I am certain of. Aragail. It is a name that comes to me more and more. I am certain that this has to do with your missing son, though I cannot say how I know this. I only hope that this letter reaches you and that it is not a waste of your time.
Sincerely,
Harry James Potter.'
Looking down at his letter he took a few deep breaths as he waved his hand over the still wet ink, trying to make it dry faster. A moment later he was unlocking Hedwig's cage and tying the letter gingerly to her leg. Before he could lose his nerve he opened the window and watched his letter soar away on white wings.
"Boy!" So much for hiding away in his room.
"Yes Aunt Petunia?" He said politely from the bottom of the stairs. By this time his cousin was awake and gorging himself on what he supposed would be breakfast. Turning to his Aunt he half expected to be told to start cleaning up. The other half expecting insults for no reason other than they felt like it.
"We received a phone call this morning. Next month your Aunt Marjorie will be coming to visit. Vernon will tell you what we expect of your behavior when he comes home from work." With that said his Aunt turned toward her son and started speaking with that sappy tone she used only for Dudley. Wincing Harry replied that he would come downstairs as soon as his Uncle was home before he retreated back upstairs.
"Just what this summer needs..." Mumbling to himself he went over to his desk, intending to work on some of his summer homework, but instead ended up staring outside blankly, wondering if the summer could get any worse.
Flying throughout the day, Hedwig made good time as the magic surrounding the letter written by her Master instinctively lead her to her destination. Stopping on a lamp post outside a large, muggle, government office she tilted her head this way and that. The magic stirred within her as the location of the recipient came to her attention. Pushing off the lamp post she pumped her powerful wings to bring her aloft and soared right through a set of open doors on a second floor balcony. Landing on a tidy, well used, desk she fluffed her feathers and made a faint screeching sound to alert the recipient before settling down again.
Standing near the shelf the dark haired man searched for a reference book to help him with the task of paperwork one of the government officials had left upon his desk. Hearing the fluttering of wings and the subdued screeching of a bird he turned to see an Owl had perched itself on the edge of his desk. But this was no regular bird. As soon as he took a step closer she held out her leg to him, almost impatiently.
Cautiously he reached over and untied the message from her leg, watching curiously to see what she did. For a moment the bird seemed to look around his office, as if searching for something, before she screeched again and took off out the window. Intrigued he looked down at the letter and quickly cut through the seal with the letter opener on his desk.
For a moment all he did was read the letter. Then again. Just to be sure he read the words a third time before he glanced out in the direction where the Owl had disappeared. Leaving his office he nodded to the guards standing by just outside. One of them followed behind him as he began to search the building carefully, asking around for the Ambassador that had been in charge of relations between the two races. As soon as he found the man he asked for a quick word and commandeered an unused office. Now alone he held out the letter and waited while the man examined it.
"Your people suggested that we leave out the name of my son during the Conference in order to keep those who would wish to abuse this knowledge from being able to do so. However, I used the name of my son during my own speech. If, as you say, no one of the general populace would understand my tongue then this child, this Harry Potter, might very well have pertinent information." Nodding as he examined the letter the Ambassador looked slightly confused about something.
"The boy left a return address. But how did this letter reach you? It should have come through the team downstairs..." Nodding the Lord of the Elves motioned to the seal on the back before speaking.
"Actually I was going to ask you about that. So far the letters I have received have been plain, white, and written with a ball-point pen. However this letter is written on thick parchment, something I am quite used to. The boy clearly wrote with a traditional quill, and there is a proper seal on the back. Does the post ever use Owls to deliver their letters?" He asked curiously. The man in front of him stiffened, before scowling at the letter.
"Oh, he's one of Them then. There is someone I need to get in contact with about this. Until then I'm afraid we cannot pursue this further. Why don't you return to your office for now and I'll go find the people we need to talk with." Giving a polite nod he exited the room, his guard at his back, and returned to his office. Though his outward appearance was calm he could feel his emotions twisting in his gut. Could this finally be the information needed to find his son? They would just have to wait and see.
It had been three days after Hedwig returned and Harry had not received a reply. He tried to ask his familiar if she had delivered the letter properly and she chittered at him in anger before he was able to smooth her ruffled feathers, quite literally.
Finished cleaning the upstairs bathroom Harry brought the garbage outside before slipping on the pair of old gardeners gloves he'd been given offhand by his Aunt. Outside, the heat only staved off by the shadow of the house falling on the back yard, he began pulling weeds and trimming the flower bushes. The work was hard but it wasn't that bad all things considered. Neville and he had talked about the differences between magical plants and muggle plants. Although Neville was from a family of Pureblood Wizards and Witches he knew a lot about gardening and was good at Herbology. A couple of his suggestions had actually made the work a little easier.
Inside the house Petunia was starting on lunch while Dudley play outside the front with his friends. A few minutes later him and his friends returned to the house, acting excited. Smiling at the perfectly normal children she listened to them talk about a bunch of fancy black cars down the road but stopped when she heard a knock at the door. Wiping her hands on her apron, wondering just who would be knocking around lunch, she headed to the door and opened it.
"Good day Ma'am. My name is Albert Norrington, Prime Minister for Her Majesty's Government. Might we have a moment of your time?" Gaping like a fish Petunia could only blink at the man for a moment before standing back and allowing him and two others into her home. As soon as they passed her it was like a switch had been flipped. Right away she asked if they would like to take off their coats, have a sit in the living room, and if she could get them some tea or sandwiches.
"Thank you, Ma'am, but we'll be fine. We just have a couple questions for you. First, you are Petunia Dursley; correct?" When she nodded he smiled.
"Excellent! We understand that you are the Legal Guardian of Harry Potter, the son of your late sister?" Trying hard to keep her face passive she nodded again. meanwhile Dudley and his friends were staring, agape, at the two very tall men with long hair and clothes the likes of which they'd never seen before. Both stood by quietly while the Prime Minister talked to his mum.
"May we please speak to him? We received word that he might have important information. Although I know this is quite sudden." Slightly shaken Petunia fell back into her Hostess mode and smiled at the man.
"Of course, just a moment." Walking down the hall a ways she called out the open back door, her voice dripping with the kind of sweetness she used for her only son.
"Harry, could you come here please? We have some guests who would like to speak with you." Knowing that he'd heard her and would come inside in a moment she walked back to the foyer and waited, watching the men from the corner of her eye.
Outside Harry stopped dead when he heard his Aunt call him in her Dudley voice. This sent a shiver of fear down his back. Petunia only used that voice when someone important was in the house and needed to speak with him, like back in muggle school when the teachers had sent a Counselor to talk with his legal guardians. He knew it couldn't be someone from a muggle school, since he didn't attend anymore. But if they were Wizards then his Aunt probably wouldn't be so nice. Unless it was someone threatening. Curiosity and years of obeying the Dursleys were the only reasons he didn't immediately try to run away. Taking off the gloves, and his shoes at the doorway, he came into the house and stopped at the end of the hall.
"Harry, this is the Prime Minister, Mr. Norrington." Seeing the look on his Aunt's face he knew he'd be in trouble if he didn't play along with the 'happy family' charade. So he smiled shyly at the man and gave a half bow.
"How do you do?" The man beamed at him, though why he couldn't exactly be sure.
"Nice to meet you Harry. May I introduce you to Lord Elrond, of the Eldar?" Turning slightly he motioned toward the two Elves standing behind him. Harry was about to give another half bow but stopped, catching the man's eyes. Something inside him stirred and he felt like a bolt of cold swept through him momentarily. Before he could even blink the sensation away the Elven Lord had crossed the Foyer, fallen to his knees, and embraced him.
"Aragail, my son!"
