Chapter four. And the story goes on… There is much in here that refers to the Northern mythology.However, I made my own version of it. Don't go telling me that it is not right, since I know that. Hey, it's a parallel world. Course it isn't the same as the stories on Earth :P

The names I used in the world of the alves are alternative, unusual versions of the names normally used. These however, are not made up by me, like Askur Yggdrasills. It's just another spelling of the usual Yggdrassil. Same with Àlfarheim and Ingve. Normally, they're spelled Alfheim and Frey/Freyr.

The air was vibrating because of the summer heat. It would be spring in the other world right now. Earth. It was nearly two years ago since they had left it for Àlfarheim. Harry lazily streched out a hand to the sky and narrowed his eyes. The light filtered through the leaves of the giant tree that stretched over the sky. Harry had been shocked by how different this world was in the beginning, but he was soon used to the thought of living on a world that was shaped like a flat disk, with one giant tree covering nearly the whole sky. The alves worshipped it, and Harry too, took part in some of the circles and prayers for their life source, Askur Yggdrasils. Today however, he wouldn't participate in the circles led by Ingve, the Lord of the alves. Today, he would have to say goodbye to someone.

He reluctantly got to his feet, looking over his shoulder to his house before walking away to visit his friend. The earth felt warm and dry beneath his feet. He walked up one of the many hills, and stopped when he arrived at the top. In the distance, he could see the huge tree trunk of Askur Yggdrasils, a silhouette against the sky, that was a full of its own giant, vibrating green leaves, looking like it had shot straight thought the earth. It had, really, It rooted elsewhere, on a world far below theirs. It was a pity there was no connection between this world and the ones under them. He would have loved to look around there someday… All strange, small, flat worlds. Nothing like Earth. Really, he should stop thinking about his previous home every ten seconds. He sighed and walked down the hill, towards a small cottage that was –unlike the other residences around here- not made of the opaque filaments of the Blindur hvítur plant, but out of stone. Harry guessed Severus missed his precious dungeons.

He knocked on the door, unsure of what he was going to say to him. After all, Severus would see him in a few days again or something like that. It was Harry who would have to miss the man for who knows how many years. The door opened and Harry walked in, smiling at the man who had helped him so much in the past years.

"Dylja. How nice to see you. I take it Tom told you about my departure?"

"Indeed. I'm here to… Actually, I've got no idea why I'm here. To speak to you one last time, I think"

"I'll see you soon again…"

"You will."

"I'm sure you won't miss my boring presence at all, brat."

Harry huffed and shook his head, grinning. He let himself fall on the couch, earning him a glare.

"Make yourself at home" Severus said sarcastically.

"Already have." Harry laughed.

They both fell silent, their thoughts wandering back to the memories they had of each other, both here and at Hogwarts. Even as the evening fell, they didn't move or speak. Harry tried to make a memory, as clear as possible, so he would never forget even a single aspect of the man he admired. It was Severus who had dragged him out of that pit of doubt. He had been in two minds for a long time, not sure what he wanted. At first, it had been natural for him to be with Tom, but after a while he had begun to think, really think about the consequences, and how it would influence him. It had affrighted Harry. He knew he wouldn't, couldn't be the Harry Potter everyone expected anymore. And then Severus had come to him, and told him about his life as a spy. He had ended with the words:

"So you see, it doesn't matter who we are to the world, since that world will always have a distorted view of you. As long as you, in your heart, can justify your choices against yourself, as long as you know that what you are doing is right. In your case, there will always be people who think you are 'on the wrong side', whether that is Light, Dark or Gray. Be who you want to be, and you will find happiness."

Harry woke up with a shock, feeling a rush of very familiar magic coursing through his body. He frowned. That idiot wouldn't… right? When he felt another wave he groaned. He would. He silently and slowly pushed back the sheets so the others wouldn't wake up. He snuck out of the room on his toes, freezing when he heard a particularly loud snore of Ron, a sign he wasn't sleeping deep anymore. After a few heartbeats however, he released the breath he had been holding and dared to walk further. He gritted his teeth together when pushing against the door. A few torturous moments later of trying to push open a creaking door without waking his dorm mates, he slipped through the narrow opening. Why the hell did everything in this damn castle make a sound? Even on the stairs he wasn't safe. When he was finally in the common room his heart sank. Yes, he would.

Tom sat in one of the chairs. Or lay in the chair, his legs swung over one arm and his head resting on the other. Harry didn't know if he should be stubborn and stay angry at the man for coming here or if he should give into the feeling of running towards him and snogging him to death. He made a compromise with himself and walked calmly towards him. Merlin, anyone who would have walked in would have immediately alerted the professors, whether they'd heard Harry's story or not. To take such a risk…

Still, a smile tugged on the corner of his lips when he realised Tom was asleep. One of Tom's hands enclosed a small dagger around his neck. Not a real one, of course, but a pendant. Harry had thought very long on what object he wanted to store his Horcrux in, and finally he had made this, a copy of the dagger that Tom had used in the ritual to come to life again. It wasn't one of his happiest memories, not by far,but it was something that had brought them closer. Because of the dagger, his blood ran through Tom's veins, binding them. The two Horcruxes recognised the owners, since they both began to vibrate with magic. He stroked Tom's face, waking him up. The moment their gazes met, Harry knew that Tom understood his silent question. No-one could read him like Tom did.

"You felt lonely." Tom simply stated, the sad whisper hardly reaching Harry's ears.

Of all things, of all reasons he could have thought of why he was here, this wasn't one of them. He came because Harry felt lonely? Harry realised how stupid he must look when Tom chuckled. No doubt his mouth hung wide open.

"Tom…" he began, but trailed off when finding he had no idea what to say. Instead, he buried his head in the man's chest, letting his lover stroke his head. "Thank you." He whispered.

"Anytime Dylja, anytime…"

"You need to get out of here though… It's nearly morning."

"I'll be in the Chamber if you need me." Tom smiled, and kissed him softly before getting up and pushing open the portrait hole. Harry didn't even want to begin to figure out how he had gotten past the portrait in the first place, or snuck through the corridors unnoticed. Maybe these days wouldn't be so hard after all.

He went to his room again, but after minutes of shifting and turning in his bed without being able to sleep, he dressed and went down again. Just when the thought that he might be able to get away before anyone else woke up occurred to him, Hermione got downstairs. She tried to avoid his gaze as well as possible however, so he didn't think she would bother him much today. That thought was blown away when she spoke up.

"Harry… I was wondering… that world you went to. If the books on portals and other worlds are correct… shouldn't you have aged?"

And the books were always right, of course. There would be no use in denying that.

"Leave that topic be Hermione," was all he said. There was no way he would explain the concept of a Horcrux to her. Not that she would want to hear him out anyway. He started to walk away again, but closed his eyes and sighed inwardly when he felt her grab his wrist. It was not like he couldn't get loose… nothing would be easier for him. Just a little twist and he would be free. It was her intention, that silent, desperate plea that went with the gesture, that made him stay where he was. He turned his head and looked into her eyes. Her brown eyes were watery, as if she could break into tears any moment. Why was it that girls always started to cry around him?

"Please, Harry… don't do this. I… I just want to… understand you. Voldemort… has he done something to you? Something to make you forget us?"

Harry let out a humourless laugh. How typical. Blame it on the Dark wizard. Not that he didn't understand her reasoning… He would have thought the same in the past. This time, he did move his wrist. Her hold was getting annoying.

"No. He didn't," he said, looking into her eyes, and he knew she would find the truth behind his statement in his own. You cannot lie with the mirrors of your soul, no matter how hard you try. She made a choking sound, which could be interpreted as either a gasp or a sob. She knew she had lost him. That realisation sent a shudder through him, and an immense feeling of loss crushed him suddenly, yet he refused to show her. "It is me…" he continued. "I've become too different from the person you once knew," he whispered, almost pleading her. A pleading for understanding. She swallowed and moved away from him, her hands balled into fists.

"You love him, don't you?" He knew she would have figured out the meaning of his words to Ginny quickly.

"Yes."

"Why?"

That question held so many answers. Too many, and most of them she wouldn't get, he knew as much. How could she? That strange pull he had felt… It had been so natural, so normal to them, but she would want reasoning behind it. A motivation. There had been none in the beginning, just their feelings, and the intuition that what was happening was right. Instead, he thought about the conversations he had had with Tom. They were so alike, he and Tom. Perfect for each other. It was odd that they had stayed enemies for so long. Soon, they hadn't even needed that pull to each other. It was more than just some crush. He truly loved him, for who he was, what he did. Not for what he had done, no, but that lay in the past, and Harry was willing to forgive. Tom hadn't been Dark Lord Voldemort for years.

"Because we understand each other so completely. Together, we are one person, alone, we weren't even half. We were none. I can't describe my relationship with him to you Hermione… isn't it enough to know that he makes me happy? That he makes me feel like I finally belong somewhere? And I do, truly."

"You belong here, with us."

"Not anymore," he said, maybe a little harsher than he had intended. She wasn't the only one having a difficult time… First, he had broken with them by going away. Now, he needed to face them again, only to break with them for a second time… Hermione looked like he had slapped her, but finally, she nodded, her face a stony mask, which he knew would break the moment she was away from him.

"I know," was her final whisper before she scurried from the room.

This day was harder than the previous one. Much harder than any day he could remember since the end of his fifth year. More people than ever avoided him, more even than when they believed him to be Slytherin's heir, or when they thought him crazy when he had declared that Voldemort had returned after the Triwizard tournament. He wondered who had spread the news. His once friends in Gryffindor wouldn't, he knew as much, but he had told them that they could tell the members of the DA. No doubt one of them had something against him. Smith, maybe? Whoever it had been didn't matter. The fact that every student of the school moved out of his way now did. Nothing went as planned, and he was infinitely thankful for Tom being here, not far beneath his feet.

The only ones who seemed uninformed were the professors, who treated him much the same as ever. The Slytherins gave him odd looks, not knowing how to act around him, and avoiding him more out of habit than fear, like the rest did. He knew their behaviour would change in the coming few days, when they really thought things over. Strange that he could analyse any Slytherin better than his former friends right now. Or not, considering that he spent years with the only permanent company Tom, Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, Avery, Rabastan, Rodolphus and Bellatrix.

Ah, Bellatrix. She had been a real pain in the beginning, but Àlfarheim had done her some good as well. She had only come because she followed her Lord to the end of the world. Further even in this case. Harry hadn't wanted to speak with her at first, but slowly, he had gotten over his hate. Sirius had chosen his way, Bellatrix hers. Sirius knew what he would go into when he fought at the Ministry, the risks attached to said fight. Was it Bella's fault, for killing one of her greatest enemies? Was it Harry's maybe, for believing the visions? Was it Tom's, for playing with the mind of an enemy to attain something he so desperately wanted? Or was it Dumbledore's, for keeping Sirius locked up for so long that he became reckless? Maybe, maybe not. It didn't matter anymore now, who was to be blamed. Nothing would change his death, since no-one returned from the veil. Especially not when he had been hit with a killing curse before even touching the portal to the dead.

Once he had sorted that out, he had searched Bellatrix out, finding her in a surprisingly sane state. The healing aura of their new home had not only worked for Tom, but also for her. She was good company after he had made it clear that he wasn't her enemy now. It had been easy to convince her. The Dark Lord was, in her eyes, never wrong in judgment, and if Harry sided with her Lord, then she would accept him with open arms. Some might be fooled by her attitude, thinking she wanted more, but she was in no way –and had never been- involved with Tom romantically. She clearly loved Rodolphus, although sometimes he got crazy by her idolatry of their Lord. But to her, he was a God, and Gods are untouchable, in more than one way. And thus, Rodolphus never had a real problem with it. He too, admired their Lord.

Harry had been afraid that they would turn against Tom when he had lain off his title of Dark Lord, when he had renounced the name Voldemort. It hadn't happened. As said before, they followed him everywhere, and what he did, was always good. He felt a sudden urge to run from his classroom and storm into the Chamber, where Tom was hiding, waiting patiently for him. Another plus when you were immortal. You had all the time of the world… Harry however, was still twenty-five and in no way used to his immortality, patience included.

He raised his hand, feigning illness. McGonagall was the only one in the classroom who believed him. Luckily, she was the only one he needed to believe him. He skillfully managed to elude Ms Norris and Filch, using shortcuts solely known to him, Tom, the Marauders and the Weasley twins, and snuck down to the Chamber.

The many dark, clam corridors reminded him of the Maze of peace, an underground labyrinth, that, should it be exposed, should have the form of a flower. He had always wondered how the alves knew it had that shape, and he wondered if they would be disappointed if someone would remove the upper layer of soil, and it would appear that it didn't look like one at all. Because, how could it have been dug in that shape, in the dark, with no guidance point? He hadn't dared to ask, since after the first hints he had given them that pointed in that direction had offended the alves deeply. Sacrilege. He had been a heretic in their eyes, so he had just entered the maze without asking any further questions. It had cost him a long time to redeem himself in the eyes of the alves after that incident. He knew better now than to question their beliefs. They were quite fond of the 'because we say so' mentality.

He liked the alves. Not because of their attitude towards them, since it was kind of hostile, but because of the simple fact that they had let them stay on their world. No matter how they were treated there, like some experiment, it showed that their nature was good. Had they been humans, then they would have been at war with them within a day. Most humans didn't take kindly in aliens who tried to live on 'their' world. And they had tried to teach them the ways of their planet, their beliefs, their way of living. None of them were truly friendly, and Harry had felt like a toddler in their presence when they taught him, behaving like they were oh so superior beings.

Myrtle was nowhere to be seen, a fact he was grateful for, and he approached the sink with the little engraved snake. He twisted his head, imagining it to be real. The Parseltongue came more naturally to him now than it had in his second year. Tom had helped him with it, and now he could distinguish Parseltongue and English when he heard it. And indeed, the single word that left his mouth had a vague, hissing undertone. He quickly stepped backwards when the sink began to move.

He landed on his feet, which was quite an accomplishment after a long, slimy pipe that dumped you on a floor that moved because of the many little skeletons that were piled up there. With every step he felt as if he broke tons of tiny, bleached skulls and bones. The corridor looked sinister, not only because of the floor, but also because of the small amount of green light that had managed to penetrate through the cracks in the walls. It was cold down here, and he cursed the fact that he hadn't thought of that, not bringing an extra coat with him or something. Not that he could have gone back to Gryffindor tower to get it… and coming here had kind of been a decision in a spur of the moment… He was surprised when he saw a great heap of Basilisk skin, on the same spot where he had seen it in his second year. He had thought it would have rotten away by now, but it had been conserved quite well. He climbed through the hole in the large heap of stone where the ceiling had crashed down because of Lockheart, and walked to the end of the corridor to the door with the snakes.

It was open already, and he climbed through it, jumped down the last bit and hit the ground with a hollow thud. The chamber was just as he remembered, without a giant snake and a nearly dead Ginny this time. He wondered if Tom had removed the corpse of the Basilisk. He searched for Tom, and found him floating in the water of one of the black, square pools. He knew he was already noticed, and blue eyes found green. Harry walked slowly to the pool and crouched down.

"Couldn't take it anymore?"

Harry made an agreeing sound and Tom heaved himself out of the water. Harry played around with the thought of just staying here until Dumbledore came back. Feeling Tom embrace him, he decided to do just that.

Read and Review!
xx elfin