Chapter 2: The Crazy Little Green Elf
Harry lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He had awoken from a vivid dream with his hands pressed over his face. The old scar on his forehead, which was shaped like a bolt of lightning, was burning beneath his fingers as though someone had just pressed a white-hot iron to his skin.
He sat up, one hand still on his scar, the other reaching out in the darkness for his glasses, which were on the bedside table. He put them on and his bedroom came into clearer focus, lit by a faint, misty orange light that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the window.
Harry ran his fingers over the scar again. It was still painful. He turned on the lamp beside him, scrambled out of bed, crossed the room, opened his wardrobe, and peered into the mirror on the in side of the door. A skinny boy of fourteen looked back at him, his bright green eyes puzzled under his untidy black hair. He examined the lightning-bolt scar of his reflection more closely. It looked normal, but it was still stinging.
Harry tried to recall what he had been dreaming about before he had awoken. It had seemed so real. There had been two people he knew and one he didn't. He concentrated hard, frowning as he struggled to remember…
The dim picture of a darkened room came to him… There had been a snake on a hearth rug … a small man called Peter, nicknamed Wormtail… and a cold, high voice… the voice of Lord Voldemort…
Harry felt as though an ice cube had slipped down into his stomach at the very thought.
He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember what Voldemort had looked like, but it was growing fainter and fainter with each passing moment. All Harry knew was that at the moment when Voldemort's chair had swung around, and he, Harry, had seen what was sitting in it, he had felt a spasm of horror, which had awoken him… or had that been the pain in his scar?
And who had the old man been? For there had definitely been an old man; Harry had watched him fall to the ground. It was all be coming a jumble of thoughts and random blurs as Harry put his face into his hands, blocking out his bedroom, trying to hold on to the picture of that dimly lit room, but it was like trying to keep water in his cupped hands. The details were now trickling away as fast as he tried to hold on to them.
Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking about some one they had killed, though Harry could not remember the name… and they had been plotting to kill someone else… him!
Harry took his face out of his hands, opened his eyes, and stared around his bedroom as searched for quill and parchment at the revelation of this discovery. Though when he jumped up from his bed, Harry expected to see something unusual there, he found that his room already possessed an extraordinary number of unusual things. At the foot of his bed there sat a large wooden trunk which was still open. The contents inside were visible in the dim orange glow of his room, revealing; a cauldron, broomstick, black robes, and an assortment of spellbooks. Rolls of parchment littered that part of his desk that was not taken up by the large, empty cage in which his snowy owl, Hedwig, usually perched. On the floor beside his bed a book lay open; Harry had been reading it before he fell asleep last night. The pictures in this book were all moving. Men in bright orange robes were zooming in and out of sight on broomsticks, throwing a red ball to one another.
Harry walked over to the book, picked it up, and watched one of the wizards score a spectacular goal by putting the ball through a fifty-foot-high hoop. Then he snapped the book shut. Even Quidditch, which in Harry's opinion was the best sport in the world, could not distract him at the moment. He placed Flying with the Cannons on his bedside table, and sat down at his desk. Harry pulled a piece of parchment toward him, loaded his eagle-feather quill with ink, and began jotting down everything that was fleeing his sleep-addled mind.
Voldemort… Wormtail… plotting to kill someone unknown… Plotting to kill ME! Old mansion… Killed old man… snake on hearth rug…
Harry then paused, wondering how best to deal with this new and glaring problem, still marveling at the fact that he had the presence of mind to be so quick to jot these things down as he found himself growing duller to what they meant by the second. He scratched out a few more things to the list, but after a minute or two found that he could not at all recall anything about what he as reading from the paper. At the top of the parchment, Harry gave bold dark strokes of his quill to underline the word 'DREAM' and tucked the parchment within his school robes for later.
Suddenly growing more restless by the second, Harry stood abruptly from his desk and drew back the curtains to his bedroom window in order to survey the street below.
Privet Drive looked exactly as a respectable suburban street would be expected to look in the early hours of Saturday morning. All the curtains were closed. As far as Harry could see through the darkness, there wasn't a living creature in sight, not even a cat.
And yet… and yet… Harry turned back to his desk and sat down at it, running a finger over his scar again. It wasn't the pain that bothered him; Harry was no stranger to pain and injury. He had lost all the bones from his right arm once and had them painfully regrown in a night. The same arm had been pierced by a venomous foot-long fang not long afterward. Only last year Harry had fallen fifty feet from an airborne broomstick.
Harry was used to bizarre accidents and injuries. They were unavoidable if you had a knack for attracting a lot of trouble such as he did.
No, the thing that was bothering Harry was that the last time his scar had hurt him, it had been because Voldemort had been close by.
But Voldemort couldn't be here, now … The idea of Voldemort lurking in Privet Drive was absurd, impossible…
Harry listened closely to the silence around him. He jumped slightly when, as he was he half-expecting to hear the swish of a cloak, he heard instead a sound from outside his window.
Harry leaned forward from his desk and snatched back the curtains again. There was something streaking across the skies, like a glowing golden Snitch too far for Harry to see properly. And then it was drawing closer and closer, becoming larger and larger until Harry hitched in breath when it suddenly twinkled out of existence just as it was reaching the wooded area behind the local park. Harry had known that park well, as it was only three years ago that the relentless bullying he received from his cousin Dudley had ended there.
Harry jumped again as he heard Dudley give a tremendous grunting snore from the next room, almost as if growling for Harry to stop thinking about him.
Feeling that the room was suddenly too cramped, Harry shrugged on a school cloak from the trunk at the foot of his bed and made his way out the room. He had no reason to tip-toe or sneak around inside the house when it was so late in the night. There was no one in the house with him except Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, and they were plainly still asleep, their dreams untroubled and painless. Asleep was the way Harry liked his relatives best. It wasn't as though they were ever any help to him awake. It was also a plus that when they slept, all the Durlseys slept hard through the middle of the night, like normal people were expected to sleep. Harry had never been able to confide in them or tell them anything about his life in the wizarding world. The very idea of going to them when they awoke, and telling them about his scar hurting him, about his worries about Voldemort, about the falling object which had disappeared in a flicker, was laughable.
As he made his way down the creaking staircase, Harry never found it so easy to escape the Dursleys and the oppressive environment they promoted. And in the next moment, he was out in the dark, quiet street, clutching his cloak's hood close to his face for obscurity, and moving without a single glance backward.
Harry was several streets away before he paused to give his actions some thought. Harry shivered as he looked up and down the street. What was he going to do if he found something at the park? Would it be a wizard playing tricks, or would it be another ploy by Voldemort to lure him away from safety? Harry took out his wand, clutching it tightly within his grip. If worse came to worse, Harry could always summon the Knight Bus the way he did last year. All he needed to do was stick out his wand, and there was a street that ran along the side of the park. He thought of Ron and Hermione, and his heart sped up. Harry was sure that, trap or not, like with every year the trio spent in the halls of Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione would want to help him now. Harry smiled as he began his trek toward the park again, comforted by the thought of his two closest friends doing all they could in order to rush to his aid from abroad.
He looked down at his wand, which he was still clutching in his hand. The closer he drew to the park, the damper the air grew. It was a cool night, and a low bearing mist was beginning to settle in, reminding Harry of just how close the autumn days were and how soon he would be thankfully returning to Hogwarts with his friends.
Finally reaching the park, with the mist thickening at the edges like a foreboding whiteness, Harry stared ahead of himself with his back straight. A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Harry feel as though he were being watched, but the street around him appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses down the way. Never the less, Harry felt his hand grip his wand tightly as he pressed forward through the mists. The hood was still up on his cloak, and Harry felt no reason to put it down. In fact, he clenched it around his face tighter than ever while entering the park.
He moved past the swing set and the jungle gym. Strode forward through the sandbox and around the monkey bars. These mundane things did not interest Harry at the moment. He gave no pause as he broken from freshly kempt green grass to the thicket of weeds that made up the edge of the woods. The people of Surrey never gave much attention to the woods that surrounded them, but Harry felt compelled to find that twinkle which vanished overhead.
Stumbling through the woods with his cloak getting caught on every outstretched branch and twig was cumbersome, but Harry knew it was not safe yet to do any form of magic when the Ministry would have him expelled if he, an underage wizard, even attempted so much as a lighting charm to guide his way.
The lights of houses was grower dimmer and dimmer the further into the forest Harry journeyed. Harry knew it could not be much longer before his vision would have to settle in with the darkness, but there was something up ahead. A small glimmer. Harry blinked once, then twice to be sure it was not a trick of mind on his part. He positioned himself so that when the lights behind him finally could no longer pierce through the thick trees and rising fog, he could simply stroll forward to that great tiny light with almost no trouble.
Harry felt his heartbeat race for a moment when the light at his back finally gave out. It was now so dark that he could scarcely see in front of him. Out in the dense wood he heard a sharp snapping noise and felt a chill run through him. Taking his wand once again from his trouser pocket, Harry prepared to defend himself from anything that leaped from the darkness to attack him. But nothing did, and he moved ahead with great caution again as he heard the noise again, but this time a little further ahead. After hearing it for the fourth or fifth time, Harry became aware of the fact that the noise was, intentionally or not, lading him toward the tiny flicker of light that was out at the other end of the forest.
He looked around nervously at the shadows in the woods. Harry felt a small fraction of fright take hold of him, combined with misery and increasing doubt about his impromptu quest. The woods was far too quiet for Harry's tastes. The only sound he could hear thus far was the noise which was now coming repeatedly from where the little light was growing larger.
Finally reaching a part of the woods where the light pierced the darkness with great ease, Harry still did not drop his hooded cloak or release his iron-grip on his wand. The light was enormous now, but it flickered every so often with the wind that rose and fell from the clearing that it was evidently present in. Harry smelt smoke and burning leaves, recognizing the beginnings of a good fire from his few years of friendship with Hagrid at Hogwarts.
And as Harry was almost relaxed by this type of memory, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand as he whipped around, peering into the gloom to try to find the source of watchful eyes on his back. He pointed his wand in front of him, coming face-to-face with a tiny creature standing directly in front of him along a large stone Harry had not even been aware of being there. Harry immediately stepped back in surprise. This little being seemed to have materialized out of nowhere! It stood little more than half a meter in height, fearlessly holding its ground in front of the towering youth who wielded a wand and what most told him a considerable amount of awesome magical power. Ever since he learned to conjure a Patronus last year, Harry had been feeling especially strong and warm these last few months.
The little wizened thing could have been any age with its appearance. Its face was deeply lined, but was framed with pointed elfin ears that gave it a look of eternal youth much the same as Dobby, the only House-Elf which Harry knew to date. Long wisps of white hair parted down the middle and hung down on either side of the green-skinned head. The creature was bipedal, and stood on short legs that terminated in tridactyl, almost reptilian feet. It wore rags as gray as the mists of the forest, and in such tatters that they must have approximated the creature's very age. For the moment, Harry could not decide whether to be frightened or to laugh at this homely and shabby little thing. But when he gazed into those bulbous eyes and sensed the being's kindly nature, Harry relaxed only a little. At last the creature motioned toward the wand in Harry's hand.
"Away put your weapon," the small elf said. Its voice came out as something between a grumble and a squeak, "I mean you no harm."
Harry was surprised by the unnatural urge to trust this little green man. He certainly had been more wary of Dobby before him, but Harry attributed this to the fact that Dobby had simply appeared in his bedroom while this creature had surprised him as he was already on guard. Not to mention the fact that Dobby, in the same time frame as this little old elf, had already done a fair few crazy things and would have been banging his head against the stone he stood on rather than being as calm as an approaching storm the way this little creature was at the moment.
After another moment's hesitation, Harry quietly lowered his wand, but did not put it back into his pocket. He shucked off his cloak for some added freedom of movement. He glanced quietly and suspiciously at the green elf, not entirely put at ease by the warm and inviting feelings that came from meeting eyes with him. As he did so, Harry wondered again why he felt compelled to obey this little creature.
"I am wondering," the creature spoke again, "why are you here?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably, but with another meeting of their eyes felt himself relax immensely more than before. The subtle arch of the elf's brow did not go unnoticed by Harry, and made him feel a fleeting spark of trepidation.
Never the less, Harry answered, "I saw something in the skyline. A tiny twinkle of light that disappeared over the forest." He gave the little being in front of him a piercing gaze of his own, "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"Twinkle, you say? In the sky, hmm?" the creature repeated curiously with a wide smile beginning to crease his already-lined face. "You've found it, I'd say. My fire! Heh? Yes! To keep me warm, it is! Yes!"
Harry had to force himself not to smile. The green elf was not mocking him, this Harry understood without knowing how. It was more as if the two shared some long history and this was no more than an inside joke between them.
"Yeah…"
"Help you, I can!" the creature began excitedly, its eyes glimmering much like the twinkle which led Harry here. But, as far as Harry knew, elves could pop in and out without a moment's hesitation. They didn't travel by blinking light, did they?
"Yes… Yes… Help you, I can!" the green elf went on, and Harry inexplicably found himself endeared to the odd creature, but wasn't at all sure that such a tiny elf could be of help to him on his quest for the mysterious light.
"The light appeared and disappeared right above this forest," Harry started gently, "Did you see or hear anything land around here. Maybe a human like myself, or another person like yourself." He could not be certain this creature before him was a house-elf, and did not want to make that assumption. It could be just as bad as calling an Irishman anything like a Scotsman, or the reserve. Harry shuddered as his Uncle Vernon had once made that terrible mistake.
The creature shook his head, the whitish hair flopping about his pointed ears.
"Searching for light, you say. But inside you, it already is. Heh, heh."
A strange phrase, Harry thought with his eyes blinking twice at the green man. It sounded almost like something he would hear from Dumbledore if he had come to the wizened wizard with the same quest. The comparison in his mind made Harry relax a little more naturally, his shoulders losing some of their hard fought tension. The green elf lost its furrowed brow in the same motion, and Harry was sure that constituted evidence that it had been trying to make him at ease in some way, shape or form. Whether or not it was imploring magical means or not needed to be seen. If Harry received an owl from the Ministry in the forest, he would be dragging the little green elfman onto the Knight Bus with him and giving Stan the order to take him directly to the Ministry, wherever that was in London.
But before Harry could say anything, he saw the tiny elf hobble off over the stone he was standing on, and with shockingly surprising ease, it was fast enough to pluck the wand from Harry's lowered hand.
"Hey, give that back!" Harry felt as if he were eleven years-old again, screeching for Dudley and his Uncle Vernon to give him back his Hogwarts acceptance letter. But this was different. He still had that letter and many others in the floorboard underneath the cupboard. His wand, however, was irreplaceable in Harry's eyes. Not just as a focal for his magical powers and prowess, but as a memento to his first glimpse into the other half of his life, the magical half of his existence. In the first fleeting looks he was awarded into the world his parents had known and he was now a part of like they had been.
Harry was surprised at this sudden strange behavior, and tried to catch the little green bugger. But it moved easily out of his arm's length and ambled over to where the fire was burning dimly in the clearing for not having any more firewood thrown on. Harry felt horror clench his stomach as he charged after the surprisingly fast creature of old age.
When Harry was fully within the clearing, he saw a hut of some sort at the far end and several other things that would have been noteworthy if he was not snatching his wand back from the little green man. The creature tutted softly as it managed to once again stay safe from Harry's rising irritation, its bulging great eyes inspecting the wand with critical glee. The strange being held the wand up to the fire for better light, then bite it, much to Harry's immense horror. But no sooner had the creature clenched its teeth onto the wand did he spit it away from the taste, his deeply lined face wrinkling like a prune.
"Peewh!" he said, spitting, "Thank you, no. How get you so big eating food of this kind?"
"That's not food!" Harry felt that he should have been explosive with anger at this point, but he could not help himself. Seeing the green elf try to eat his wand rather than chuck it onto the fire was a hilarious twist he had not been prepared to see. This time the creature did not have the presence of mind to evade Harry as he snatched back his wand with nimbly fingers. The green being looked Harry up and down, and before the astounded youth could berate him for trying to devour his prized possession, the creature flicked its gaze to Harry's cloak and snatched that away from Harry with small and delicate hands. Harry was quickly growing both amused and frustrated with the bizarre little scavenger, watching him as he tried on the cloak only to realize that the cloak was much too long for its size. Nearly four of the green elf standing atop each other could equal Harry in height, and so the cloak was more like a shroud and train. A black wedding dress for a little green man.
"Listen, I just came out here because I saw something unusual," Harry said with his lips thinning. Whether this was to keep from scowling or laughing, Harry couldn't tell anymore.
"Have you tried looking more closely? Have you tried? Have you tried, hmm?" the creature goaded.
Harry was again denied a reply as he stopped to consider the elf's words. He had to admit to himself that he had not, but then the whole idea was patently ludicrous. The light had not been in Harry's neighborhood when it disappeared, and when he was walking the streets all he saw were streetlamps.
Harry's wand had once again attracted the creature's interest. He was finally reaching the end of his patience when he saw the crazy little being snatch his wand again, waving and swishing it around like a sword to be brandished. Knowing that his survival for the night and however much longer he dwelled in the forest could very well depend on his wand, Harry grabbed for it. This time he was no longer playing games with the creature, especially not so close to the fire as they were.
But the creature held on to his prize. He gripped the wand tightly in his wrinkled green-skinned hand. The nearby fire threw its radiance up into the green elf's delighted face, and he immediately began to re-examine his treasure anew.
"Let go! That's mine!" Harry cried. The creature struggled with him like a petulant child.
"No, mine! Mine! Or I'll help you not." still clutching the wand with surprising strength, the creature stepped backward and pulled Harry along with him.
"I don't want your help," Harry said indignantly, "I just wanted something to take my mind off—" Harry stopped himself and shook his head free of what he was about to utter, "I just want my wand back, you little green bugger. Then I'm going back home, and getting out of this overgrow."
Harry instantly realized he had issued an insult, one the creature must have also recognized as it glared in annoyance at him.
"Overgrow, say you? Green bug, am I? Beautiful is me, and my home this is!" the green man shot back.
The two were engaged in a tug-of-war over the stolen prize. As they spun about in battle, Harry growled with effort as he tried hard to both win out over the elf and not accidentally snap his wand in the process.
"Give to me! Mine, mine! Give it back!" the creature cried. Abruptly, though, he seemed to give up the bizarre struggle and lightly beating at Harry's thigh with a small gnarled walking stick that seemed just its size. Harry was about fed up with these antics and simply released his hold on the wand. The battle was over, and the victor grinned at the holly wood that glowed by fire light in his tiny hands, gleefully repeating, "Mine, mine."
Harry reasoned that it would probably try to taste the wand again, but if it made even a gesture that it would throw the object into the fire, Harry's Seeker reflexes would be put to the test. He would have his wand back, by any means necessary despite his not wanting to hurt the crazed little green elf.
"Okay, I let you have it." Harry said with a sigh, running his hand through his disheveled raven hair, "Now what are you going to do with it? It tastes horrid, remember."
"Keep it, I shall." The creature turned a suspicious eye to Harry, as if he expected him to continue grabbing for it. Harry would first let him lower his guard, then swipe back his wand if the need arose.
"Stay and help you find your friend, I will." He continued excitedly, but Harry shook his head. This little elf was so bloody confusing and weird. It was really working his patience in ways neither the Durlseys nor Malfoy ever could.
"I already told you, I'm not looking for a friend. I was searching for a light that might have landed here." Harry explained through barely parting lips.
"Oh," the creature's eyes widened as he spoke, "but revealed and know your quest, I do. Not so different are they. Your light and what you should seek of it. The one known as Yoda, you seek. Hmm, yes. Yoda, you seek, Yoda."
Mention of a name to the light surprised Harry and made him feel skeptical. How could an elf like this know anything about the two? But Harry froze at those thoughts. That was his frustrated mind trying to write the little elf off as crazy and unimportant. Harry closed his eyes and centered his breathing. Anger clouded his judgment much the way it had when he had first heard Fudge and the others talking about how Sirius had betrayed his parents and then again when he actually found Sirius. No, it was no longer smart for him to think in anger. Anger led to far too many stupid decisions hastily made.
The little green elf could have been living in the woods for a thousand years as far as Harry might have known. It could have seen that light twinkle in and out of existence hundreds of times. The light could have appeared to the elf. The elf could have named the light, or the light could have revealed its name to the elf. The light could just be another wizard, or an elf not unlike Dobby and this one. So many possibilities and mysteries. So many questions that needed answers, and yet when answers were found, even more questions arose.
"That light that appeared over the urban… You've seen it before." This was not a question, as Harry looked down at the little man.
"Of course, yes," the creature said proudly, nodding his head.
"And it has a name?" this time it was a question, to which the elf gave an affirmative nod.
"Yes, Yoda is who you seek. Take you to him, I shall." The creature turned, then paused before addressing Harry again, "But first we must eat. Good food. Come, come."
With that, the creature scurried away from the fire and toward his little hut.
"I must really be going nutters", Harry thought, "following this weird being into that little thing to eat who-knows-what." But the creature had mentioned a name and knowing whatever that strange light had been. Yoda, the elf had said. He stumbled over a particularly thick weed of twisting roots as he pursued the creature into his camp. The elfman was chattering gaily as he disappeared into his hut.
"Heh… safe… heh… quite safe… yes, of course!" then, in his odd little way, this mysterious being started to laugh.
The hut was a strange little mud house on the edge of the clearing. It was not tall, but held a certain rigid stature that Harry could note in its design, almost as if were built from unique framework rather than simply sculpted by the green hermit elf. Somehow Harry managed to squeeze inside the miniature house after the elf, where everything within was perfectly scaled to its tiny resident. He sat cross-legged on the dried mud floor in the living room, careful not to bang his head against the low ceiling. There was a table in front of him and he could see a few containers holding what appeared to be hand-written scrolls of parchment.
The wrinkle-faced creature was in his kitchen, next to the living room, busily concocting an incredible meal. From where Harry sat he could see the little cook stirring steaming pots, chopping this, shredding that, scattering herbs over all, and scurrying back and forth to put platters on the table in front of the youth. Fascinated as he was by this bustling activity, Harry was also glancing around for his wand. After a minute's search with his eyes flickering around the house and at the back of the creature, he saw it sitting on a mud mantle, innocently resting there for his taking.
But Harry did not move to grab it. It was just a relief for him to know that the old elf was not using it to stir whatever he was cooking.
As the creature made one of his frantic runs into the living room area, Harry wanted to remind his host about what he had come into the forest for. Not a meal, but to discover that mysterious source of light.
"Patience," the creature said, as he scuttled back into the steamy kitchen before Harry could get out a single word. He supposed his expression of impatience said all that needed to be said, "It's time to eat."
Harry was trying as hard as any British gentleman would to be polite to the homely creature of fantasy. That was, if any random British muggle knew that such beings like elves and centaurs existed.
"It smells good," Harry started, "and I'm sure it's delicious, but I don't know why we can't see this Yoda person now."
"It's the Jedi's time to eat, too," the creature answered, but that only confused Harry more. He wasn't sure what this Jedi was, or if it was simply the last name of this Yoda bloke.
"Will it take long to get to the person? How far is Yoda Jedi?" Harry asked eagerly, feeling that hours had passed. By his approximation, it had been almost two full hours since he had awakened and left Number Four. That meant there was another five before sunrise.
"Not far, not far. Closer than you think. Be patient. Soon you will see him. Why seek him out, do you?" and the creature's eyes were as piercing as Dumbledore's twinkling electric blue eyes could ever be. This tiny elf, with old age, had bulging dark eyes that glimmered like stars to the backdrop of space.
"Well, it was strange to see." Harry answered, rubbing at his face anxiously, "I've lived my entire life on Privet Drive, and it's only been in the recent few years that I've noticed any of the really odd stuff that happens around me. Well," Harry shook his head again, "no that's not quite right, is it? I've always seen the strange happens, but it's only recently that I've been able to see it for what it really is. See it for the magic that it is."
"Hmm, yes," the creature had briefly shut its eyes and was listening intently to Harry's ramblings, "Continue, you may."
"Yeah," Harry went on, "so when I woke up and saw that light, I knew it had to be something abnormal. I thought it might be a wizard or something being a bit sloppy with their concealment. Or maybe a creature that only wizards could see. I was thinking that it might be a bit of a larp to make a mystery out of it. See what it was. If it was a wizard, I thought… I thought I might have someone who could relate to me. And if it was a creature—"
"You would seek it out as a companion…" Harry noticed that the little elf held a curious look in its eyes, the brow wrinkling its face even more as it creased and furrowed, "Hmm, betray you, your thoughts do. Speak of the trouble that awoke you, you must."
Harry had thought he glossed over that well enough, but apparently not so for this elf.
"Speak, speak!" the green man chanted as he sat down to begin his vast meal.
"It's nothing really," Harry tried hard to keep from recalling the list he had penned out at his desk back at Number Four, "I have nightmares all the time."
"Powerful, you must be if dreams bother you not." Harry wondered if the creature were mocking him, "But again your thoughts betray you. For, if not bothered you, they had, then why are you here instead of asleep as your kind do at this time?"
Harry glanced around at the bizarre room. His eyes landed on his wand, and he shook his head.
"You're right, I don't know why I'm here. I don't know what I'm doing here…"
At this small confession, Harry looked up and noticed that the tiny creature had turned away from him and was in hushed conversation to a corner of the room. Okay, now Harry knew this was the final straw, because now this impossibly crazy little green elf was talking to thin air!
Just as Harry was about to call it a day, take up his wand, and head back to bed, he heard something. From the empty corner of the room, Harry heard a gentle and wise voice responding to creature.
"Is someone else here?" Harry asked, inching slowly toward where his wand rested. He looked about the room in the hope of finding someone, or at least the telltale signs of someone under invisibly cloak, but all he saw was Yoda sitting across from him at the table.
Just as Harry was about to take his wand and bolt, the green elf turned sharply to him.
"Rude, it is," he spat just as sharply as his gaze was on Harry now, "to run when talking with guests at second dinner! Very rude!"
The little green elf raised his hand, and the wand flew into his open palm like a fish hooked on a line. Harry was not at all surprised by the display of magic, but the way his stomach wobbled with it made him feel queasy.
"Hmph, ready are you to find your light? Ready are you to meet Yoda?" the skeptical tone was very cutting and Harry felt as if he were now talking to a miniaturized version of Professor McGonagall at the moment, "What know you of mystery? What know you of ready? Ready are you to meet Yoda, hmm? Well," the elf stood with great pride and Harry was briefly stunned by the contrast this stance held against the hunched and homely way the creature had carried itself mere seconds ago, "here I am. Yoda, am I. Ready, are you still?"
"So wait," Harry tried to stand, but knocked the back of his head against the low ceiling, "You're Yoda Jedi?"
"Yoda, I am. Jedi, I was." Yoda said mysterious, then shook his head, "Jedi is no name! It is a great and honorable title! Trained knights of the Jedi Order have I, for eight hundred years!"
"Oh, sorry," was all Harry could muster as he soothed his aching head by rubbing circles on the agitated spot.
He could feel the importance in Yoda's voice, but Harry could not grasp the true importance behind his words as much as he tried.
Jedi? Order? Knights? Trained for eight hundred years?
While these things seemed impressive, and probably were, Harry simply could not help but feel it was all a little too foreign for him to appreciate. It was like seeing a picture of Big Ben instead of standing under the shadow of the real thing. Like hearing someone brag about the pasta in Italy before tasting it yourself. They were impressive, but far removed from Harry's own sphere of appreciation until he could interact with them himself.
Now if Yoda had said he taught wizards at Hogwarts for eight hundred years or something, Harry would have stared at him with respect and deference for the accomplishment. And perhaps these Jedi, as Yoda called them, was just another school of wizard Harry had yet to encounter. It was a little silly to think that Hogwarts could be the only magical school in the whole world, after all.
"To become a Jedi," Yoda started gravely, "takes the deepest commitment, the most serious mind."
Harry once again heard a gentle wise voice, but could not discern its words.
Yoda pointed at Harry. "This one I have watched a long while now. A Jedi craves not adventure. He is too reckless!"
Again the voice came, but Harry, concentrating on it, heard, "He will learn… He is learning, even now…" in a soothing tone.
"What is going on here?" Harry asked, whirling around for answers. Yoda's face, which had been cheerful before was now like carved stone as his wrinkles seemed immovable and his eyes lost their glimmer.
"If teach you what I know," Yoda began, a softening to his tone and face, "finish what you learn, will you?"
"You want to teach me?" Harry was not stupid enough to look such a gifted horse in the mouth. He was taught by Hagrid, who was half-giant, and then Remus Lupin, who last year had been a professor at Hogwarts as well as a werewolf. Learning from people different than the average wizard was no issue for Harry.
And perhaps in Yoda, he had found the companion he had come searching for…
"Hmm, much to learn there is. From all that surrounds you." Yoda turned slowly to face Harry as a strange little smile appeared on his weathered green face, "From the trees and rock. To the night sky and stars above. Heh, heh. Yes, much to learn have you."
And Harry could not help but stare at this crazy little green elf, feeling a spark of fear and trepidation grip him once more when Yoda offered him back his wand.
Just what was it that he had gotten himself into this time?