Ex Sanguis Version 2.0 chapter changes: grammar, spelling, syntax, descriptive elements

Chapter 2: Elwýn

When Harry came to, he was standing (swaying groggily) in a polished, marble-like chamber with an incredibly high vaulted ceiling. He blinked spots from his vision and stared around him in awe. The chamber was large, with softly glowing crystal lighting fixtures and large windows with thin panes of crystal glass. The windows were arched, and many in number. The soft, pale colours of the marble and the rainbow light refracted through the glass lit up the room with a heavenly luminescence. The effect was otherworldly.

The two beings stepped in front of Harry and his aunt - who hovered at his shoulder anxiously, hands twitching - and seemed to smile at Harry, 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 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, Harry realised there was a large circular pattern inlaid in the floor and wondered if it had anything to do with the transporting circle they'd been in before.

Regardless, he had his wand with him, and that was all he really needed for the moment.

The beings were quite a ways ahead 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 rainbow sunlight and crystal fixtures with softly glowing balls of light that left 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 spiralling tower-like structures.

"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 waste."

Harry gaped. "Wh-what?" he spluttered.

But his Aunt Petunia didn't say anything else and marched on silently, like a solder headed for battle. Harry was left wondering what on earth his aunt had meant by that last statement and what was really going on. How could she say something like that and then leave him hanging? It was cruel - or maybe payback. Who knew?

So, he tried his best not to think of the implications of what his aunt might have meant.

Eventually they passed out of the corridor and took a couple of wide spiral stairs downwards. Everywhere they went there were large windows and lots of soft, rainbow light. Harry found it more relaxing than intimidating, despite the obvious craftmanship and wealth that had gone into building this magnificent palace.

They began to see more arches and the occasional door lining the corridors which led off into more sun lit rooms Signs of more personal interior designing began to pop up. Harry goggled at several beautifully depicted wall murals, floor mosaics, delicate sculptures - sometimes crystal, sometimes stone - and even living plants that looked too well arranged and grown to be natural.

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 emerge in archways and doorways, staring and whispering, and Harry felt like he was on display in a zoo.

Here's Harry Potter, wizard, Exhibit A.

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 as they walked and tried to hide it by ducking his head. He 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 were 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. Perhaps they already had - who knew if the two elvin beings had been eavesdropping?

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, whitish wood with carved images that glinted with a multitude of metal or - gold, silver, bronze, copper. Harry raised his head high enough to admire them, ignoring the glowing 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 after which Aunt Petunia turned around and told Harry in no uncertain terms to follow her lead and do exactly as instructed, or else. He decided she wasn't exaggerating, so decided not to press his luck. Aunt Petunia could be very scary sometimes. He nodded his head and Petunia seemed 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 swung silently open. The first thing he caught sight of was the couple sitting on the thrones in the centre of the long room, and 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 was the light reflecting off the metal ornaments on her cheekbones and forehead, leading up 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 and gem-like orbs and metal twinning, that it had probably taken days to get it right. She glittered like a giant diamond.

Her clothes on the other hand were more than exotic. Different shades of green and bronze and silver decorated her corset, which seemed so finely made that it would shatter into a million pieces at any second. Her skirt was a transparent filmy green which Harry swore had a life of its own, because it kept moving even though the woman didn't move a muscle - she was like a statue. Fortunately for Harry's virgin eyes, she was wearing an opaque pantaloon underneath the dress which fell in shimmering copper folds around her legs. 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 just in time to catch his aunt's angry glare. He quickly jerked into compliance, trotting at the heels of the irritable woman.

As he walked closer and closer, he turned his attention to what could only be the king. While he was also beautiful, he held a certain masculinity that was hard to mistake. A broader chest and shoulders and a much firmer jaw for starters. He wasn't decorated in metal, but had an elegant circlet on his brow which threaded through his blond hair. He was dressed similarly to their escorts, but in much more elaborate cloth.

Then, he was broken out of his observations when Petunia sank to the floor in an imitation of a deep curtsy. 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 note out of the corner of his eye that no one else had moved. He stayed perfectly still.

Harry didn't know how long they remained like that, but it was long enough for sweat to start beading at his neck and wet the collar of his shirt. His legs were just about to cramp when the female (the queen, Harry could only assume) 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.

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 how so much had happened in only a few hours, and he wondered why he wasn't more startled or scared. He supposed everything was happening far too quickly to sink in properly. He also contemplated 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. It was like déjà vu, and it made his skin prickle.

Suddenly, the silence that Harry hadn't even noticed was cut by the queen's sharp words.

"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? That was the strangest thing - the thing he just couldn't wrap his head around.

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 reminded himself sternly 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 - that cat that caught the canary. Harry felt like that canary.

"Indilaira," she breathed out.

Petunia jerked. So did Harry. Something about that word struck a chord 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 nodded uncertainly. He never would have imagined an instance in which he wanted his Aunt's company, but he found himself desperately wishing she wouldn't abandon him here.

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 gripped 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 her 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. Strange. She didn't seem at all phased!

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 grew more pinched.

They started heading upward, taking stairs and climbing 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 put it behind me 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 yet another ornately decorated door, the guards stood to attention and crossed their long spears to block the way. When Aunt Petunia 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 with a soft thud. Somehow that thud seemed prophetic to Harry; kind of like a key turning in the lock of a cage - in this case to keep something in, trapped.

"We're safe to talk," Aunt Petunia broke the silence and his philosophical musings. 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,' I suppose. That is the closest definition I can think of."

"Elves?" Harry gasped, though really he wasn't all that surprised. That had been his own guess, after all. "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. She stomped her way up a set of wide spiral stairs, Harry hurrying behind her. Suddenly, she stopped walking and he almost crashed into her. She was standing in front of a pair of beautiful doors, just like the ones outside the hall.

"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. The room was enormous - divided into two separate areas by a wall with a large open arch. Heavy green drapes with ropes of gold framed the arch and could no doubt be closed for privacy. From what Harry could see through the wide arch, there was a canopied bed on a raised platform, with a long, elaborately carved wooden trunk positioned at the end. He glimpsed another trunk against the wall beside the bed and the edges of what had to be a bureau.

As Petunia shooed him into the room ahead of her, he whipped his head around, staring at what had to be the lounge. Soft white fur rugs decorated the floor, and led into the bedroom. The far side of the room was completely open to the elements; small stone arches opened up to a balcony. Filmy green and white curtains blew gently, which draped over and between the windows and the archways.

There were many other things gawk at, such as the tiled mosaics peeking from underneath the rugs, to the beautiful wall murals, and delicately carved furniture, but he was forced to stop 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. She smoothed a hand over the silk green fabric cushioning the chaise and gave a small, nearly imperceptible sigh.

"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 would you 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 am Elwý."

"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' - a kind of transformation disguise - and Harry..." For the first time, Petunia spoke to her nephew in a soft, comforting voice. Too bad it was at the same time that she was revealing truths that were shattering Harry's world. "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? 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. Harry latched onto the idea that he was still perfectly human 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 in the first place?"

"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. He narrowed his eyes shrewdly. How was that even possible? Everyone talked about the Potters being such a well-known pureblood family of wizards, how could they possibly be so-called 'elves'? Even Sirius had said he'd known James all his life!

He bit his lip. "That's preposterous."

Aunt Petunia glared at him crossly, nails tapping her thigh harshly. "Why would I lie, you stupid boy! I'm telling you the truth!"

"So they want me because I'm...I'm an ELF?" Harry finally managed, wind-milling his arms about, trying and not succeeding in imagining himself looking like the elvin 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, so beyond shock he was now numb. He wondered how many more bombshells would be dropped on him before the day was done.

"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.

Abruptly, he paled, something terrible 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 had his ears screeched off.

"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 Elwý 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 is Indilaira?" 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't have 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.

"That was easy," he commented.

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 elvin 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. We also have larger sections devoted to memory. 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 Durselys, although he'd always just assumed that was because they had been somewhat unforgettable, to put it mildly. Then there were those dreams about the day his parents had died, and remembering Hagrid flying with him on Sirius' motorbike.

Harry swallowed, feeling closer and closer to a potential melt down.

"S-so...Mum 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, not completely. 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.

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), levitating Harry's trunk. They entered the room, and floated the slightly beaten looking brown trunk across the room to the left side 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, clearly heard the differences in her speech and the speech of the guards.

However, she was obviously 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, despite my request. I promise you I will do what 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 an imperious look and started walking slowly. She looked over her shoulder at Harry. "But whatever you do, don't disobey. 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.

I apologise for the delay in getting this chapter out. I have been having ridiculous problems with both my internet and my stupid new macbook. I swear the older, 4 year version worked better. At least that one had the courtesy of crashing on me when I wasn't trying to upload documents/post new chapters. Ahem. This chapter was supposed to be up 24 hours ago. Oh well, better late than never I suppose.

I'm very pleased about the response this repost has garnered so far. You're all being incredibly supportive, and I can't thank you enough. It's been a 3 year journey (I know, hard to believe, but as a reviewer pointed out to me it has, in fact, been three years.) and I wish I could have gotten my act together a whole lot sooner instead of putting you guys through all this. As such I'm going to try harder to keep the updates consistent. At the moment I have some spare time and I'm putting it to use trying to create a buffer for myself so that when I'm being swamped by the demands of my graduation dissertation (someone please, just kill me now and save me the agony!) I won't leave you all hanging for months on end.

I want to give a special thanks to those of you who really spent some time giving me very appreciated constructive feedback. I'm happy when people read (and like, of course) my writing, but knowing that you've taken the time to help me improve really makes my day. So thank you.

And, I suppose, thanks to my sister for being there at 1am in the morning when I have a fanciful plot idea and simply must discuss it asap...

If you have any questions or comments, please don't hesitate to PM me or write it in a review. I think I managed to get back to everyone's reviews this last chapter (though I'm still working through the PMs!), but if I missed any, just drop me another and I'll get round to it eventually. I'd appreciate more feedback on this (hopefully) new and improved chapter 2. As you can see, many things remained the same but there were a few scenic changes. Harry now has a much nicer room! Hehe.

Until next time!

xoxRia

Posted: 26/01/11