Well, here is chapter four. Once again I'm disappointed as to how crap its come out. I swear I normally write so much better than this. But fan fiction is apparently quite difficult to fit things into place correctly without messing up the whole picture. So I have been concentrating on the actual plot fitting together so much that the writing has turned out to be quite awful. Although you seem rather content...so I shall continue.

Chapter Four – Tears in the night

Sitting himself firmly upon silken sheets between two large bedposts, he was immediately reminded of his bed at Hogwarts. The man followed him in, towing his trunk in behind him. He placed it carefully to the floor and smiled at Harry friendly.

"I hope everything is to your liking Gan..." he paused, "I mean, Harry, of course, I apologise."

"You don't need to be so polite to me, you apologised 3 times on the way here. Ester, right?" He narrowed his eyes, Ester? Eostor? He couldn't remember what the man had told him now.

"Erestor. Anything you need young man and ask for me, I will happy to help you with any problem or difficulty at any hour." Harry grinned.

"I see, so you're happy to do my potions essay at 3am?" Erestor crossed his arms across his chest and raised his eyebrows as he leant on the side of the door frame.

"Within reason Mr Potter."

Harry nodded. "Ok, just checking."

"Should have known you would be cheeky one." He suddenly stood up straight brushing down his robe. "Well, I shall depart. There is a bathroom to the left, the servants will be happy to fetch you warm water, towels, food and so on. Dinner is at 7, so I will see you then." And with that he disappeared behind a rapidly closing door and Harry was left alone.

Elrond gracefully leapt up the staircase and along the hallway until he reached Harry's room. He knocked once. The child had been told that dinner was served at 7, it was now nearly 8 and he had never shown up. Elrond was interested to know whether the child was alright, or if he simply wasn't hungry.

He knocked again and as he did so, some familiar faces appeared walking in his direction.

"Ah, Glorfindel, Erestor, I was just checking on the boy." He knocked again. "But I don't seem to be getting any reply."

"Wow, it's weird to think Gandalf as a boy," the golden haired elf chuckled, "I suppose wizards can't just spring from the earth though." Elrond knocked for a final time before he began to open the door. Erestor lurched forward to stop him.

"My lord! You know how Gandalf likes his privacy, don't you get a hint..."

"I will ignore that Erestor." Elrond replied and he opened the door fully.

The three elves peered their heads inside and all smiled softly at the sight before them.

Harry lay asleep, curled into a ball position upon the bed. Books and parchment were sprawled wildly over the bedding and many had fallen to the floor as the boy slept. His chest rose and fell silently, all appeared perfectly peaceful. The Lord began to close the door gently, when a murmur caused him to open it again.

It all happened rather quickly. The boy began to whimper almost soundlessly at first, then he had thrashed about uneasily and before they knew it, Harry cried out, screaming the same words over and over.

"Take me instead; it's me you want...please...don't kill Cedric. It's me you want! He's done nothing wrong!"

None of them were quite sure what they should do. Thinking quickly, Glorfindel sat on the bed beside the boy and attempted to shake him awake. This just made Harry scream louder, tears falling rapidly down his ever reddening face.

"Harry! Harry, child, it's only a dream. Wake up, Harry." Harry jerked up into a sitting position on the bed, confused, red and sweating in the dark. Elrond touched the boys face gently with the back of his hand trying to sooth him from fear. But Harry had awoke in a state of panic and in the darkness, unsure as to who was touching his face, he pulled his wand from his trouser pocket. With a few incoherent words murmured under his breath, a bullet of green light blinded the room hitting Elrond directly in the chest before sending him flying backwards out the door. The elf's body hit the wall on the other side of the hallway before landing with a thump in a bloody heap upon the floor.

Legolas and Gimli were strolling thoughtfully in the moonlight. Having just finished a hearty dinner Gimli was very content and the last thing he had wanted to do was walk when his stout body was trying to digest all that food. Though the elf had protested how beautiful the stars were that night, and so, to his displeasure, he was now being dragged around the woods in the dark. It was then that they first heard the screaming.

They had hurriedly reached the location, worried that something dreadful had gone wrong. Indeed it had. Elrond was lying on the ground in a small pool of blood with Erestor and Glorfindel trying to help him up. Harry stood in the doorway, wand still raised, shaking and cursing to himself. He raised his hands to hide his tears as he dropped his wand to the floor.

"Sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry." And that was all he had said before running down the corridor and out of sight.

"Legolas, Gimli, follow him. We wouldn't want anything to happen to the young Gandalf while he was here." The two friends nodded at Glorfindel and set off after the sobbing child.

No doubt he was in trouble. Big trouble. He used aggressive magic on a muggle, an innocent muggle. The Ministry were going to have his guts for this. He wiped the tears off his face. He just wanted to run. Run away from the nightmares, from the Ministry, from everything. Harry had no idea how far he had come. All that seemed to be around him was trees, leaves and moonlight. The last time he saw a house was about 20 minutes ago, so he knew he wasn't directly in Rivendell any more.

Well good, he thought. He was sure they were going to hate him now anyway and he didn't need all those people to look after him. He could look after himself thank you very much. So he walked on, not knowing where he would end up, or how he would get back but he needed to be alone. There was nothing wrong with that, it wasn't as if he wasn't trying to find trouble. Although little did he stop to think, normally trouble would find him.