En Edhelen Min
At breakfast Harry picked at his toast and gazed sombrely into space. He had hunched down over the table, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible; something which both Ronald and Harry's new friend Neville seemed to have picked up on as they appeared to be using their larger bodies to shield Harry's from the view of the rest of the school. Their first class of the day, potions with the ravenclaws, began in fifteen minutes,
"But why do we have it with the ravens?" Neville pondered.
"I don't know," Hermione answered, "But, if you check your timetable, you'll notice that all the classes we originally had with the slytherins are now timetabled to be taken with someone else."
"Well, there's no point complaining is there? I mean, if they want to give us a break from the snakes, who are we to argue, right Harry?" Ron asked as he shovelled more toast into his mouth.
"Hm?" Harry's head shot up in surprise. "I'm sorry; I didn't hear what you said."
"Don't worry, Harry, it was nothing important." Hermione smiled. "Are you looking forward to potions?"
Harry shrugged noncommittally. "I don't care either way."
"Well, we'd better get going anyway." Hermione said, a bit put off by his answer.
Harry dropped his shredded toast on his plate and wiped the grease from his hands onto a tissue. He pulled his satchel full of books and writing instruments onto his back and followed the so-called 'golden trio' out of the hall and towards the dungeons. He and Neville hung back a bit as Hermione and Ron got into (yet another) argument about something trivial.
"Are they always like that?" Harry asked, not really too interested in the answer.
"Yeah. I just wonder when something will snap and they'll actually start shagging." He laughed nervously.
Harry frowned in confusion, "What does-"
"Everyone be silent!" Severus barked from just outside the classroom doorway. "Get inside and follow the seating plan provided on the blackboard."
Harry watched as the ravenclaws went in first, groaning in disappointment before the scraping of chairs drowned out their voices of discontent. Soon the gryffindors were filing in and Harry found himself sat right beside the door with Neville, the only same-house pairing in the room.
"Looks like we got lucky." Harry commented.
Neville smiled nervously at the small boy and said, "Not really. Snape hates me because I'm terrible at potions; I keep blowing up my cauldrons."
Harry shot an odd look at the now nervous Neville. "I see." He said carefully.
"Your new instructions are on the board, you may begin." Severus spat before sitting down to watch the class with cleverly disguised interest. He smirked as he watched Michael Corner begin to goad Weasley derisively before he turned his attention to Harry and Neville.
Harry ignored the school knives in favour of using the runic knife Sirius had bought him from Ollivanders. He began slicing, dicing and chopping the ingredients as necessary whilst keeping an eye on Neville as he prepared the cauldron.
"Watch you don't burn your hand." Harry warned just before Neville almost set himself on fire.
"Thanks." Neville smiled. "Right what goes in first?"
"Nothing until the water is the right temperature. You see, we're making a potion to be digested which means the ingredients have to be cooked throughout and they won't cook at the right speed if we stick them in a cold cauldron." Harry explained. "Has the professor never told you this?"
Neville shook his head. "It's always been 'instructions are on the board, begin.'"
Harry frowned. "My teachers go over everything with me to ensure I understand why things are done in the way they are and what makes it successful."
"Potter, Longbottom, stop talking." Severus snapped.
Harry levelled a glare at the potions professor before he tested the temperature of the water. "I shan't listen to him if he's going to victimise us."
"He'll start taking points." Neville warned.
"I don't care." Harry answered honestly. "What do house points get us anyway? Nothing."
"There's also detention."
"I don't know what that is but I don't care about that either."
"He'll have you kicked out of school!" Neville hissed.
"Good." Harry said, smiling coldly. "I didn't ask to be here in the first place. You can start putting the groms' meat in now."
"Right." Neville said before following his instructions.
Near the end of the class, Severus began to walk around and survey the potions, or gloop in some cases, concocted by the students. He sneered and spat at some students before he came to Harry and Neville's potion where he was quite surprised at the perfect concentration elixir bubbling in their cauldron.
"It seems we actually have some talent in the classroom. What a pleasant respite it has been without Longbottom wreaking havoc in my dungeons." Severus smiled coldly. "One point to gryffindor house."
Harry rolled his eyes as he finished copying down the recipe into his journal, having almost completely ignored Severus.
"Potter, stay after."
Harry approached the desk when the classroom had emptied, his eyes wandering again as he melancholically stewed over his situation and agonised over returning to Toldolennor. He pulled at his stiff wizarding attire again, badly wanting to change into some light and flexible elvish garb.
"Your skill is beyond this class." Severus stated matter-of-factly. "Therefore I think it would be best if, during the scheduled lessons with the gryffindors, you tutor Neville Longbottom and if we schedule some higher skilled classes after dinner where we can test the extent of your ability and perhaps push you further."
Harry nodded. "Very well, I would like something to show my parents when I return home."
Severus' face softened uncharacteristically. "You have healing from seven until half past nine from Monday to Wednesday, correct? I would like you to attend advanced potions on Thursday and Friday at the same time and on Sunday from midday to five o clock."
Harry nodded in assent.
"Does it clash with your English lessons?"
Harry stared evenly at his potions professor, "Does it really matter? My English is fine."
Severus nodded. "Very well, carry on to your next lesson; I shall inform the headmaster of your permanent absence from his language lessons."
Harry slipped into the werewolf's class a few minutes late and was ushered to a seat with an 'I know why you're late, it's fine Harry.' He sat down next to Ron and watched interestedly as Remus went on to explain what they were going to cover, why they were going to cover it, why they wouldn't be using the ministry approved text for their course but they would be studying it to answer any questions asked by the ministry.
"Before we leave for today I would like you all to attempt to cast the defensive spell 'Protego'."
Harry scowled. He had absolutely no idea what that meant nor how to cast it. He watched as his fellow classmates attempted it with limited success before it was his turn. He took out his wand and set it on the table before drawing his runic blade and holding it forth. This action was met with some trepidation from the students but Remus only smiled and nodded encouragingly to the young elf.
"It is supposed to be a shield?" Harry asked.
"A shield which repels oncoming projectile attacks." Remus expanded.
"I have never cast magic like this before." Harry warned before he raised the knife and channelled his magic from his core to the knife before he almost shouted, "Protego!"
The result was a blast of magic which, instead of sticking to the knife and depending on it as the spells of his classmates had done with their wands, the spell burst out like a bubble and surged forward, just missing Remus as he dove out of the way. The spell impacted with the stone wall and imploded, blowing a hole in the wall and shaking the castle.
"That was not supposed to happen?" Harry asked.
Remus, whilst trying to control his chuckles, said. "Not quite. Where you went wrong there is that you let go of the spell instead of holding it to your knife. Usually when someone casts a shielding spell from their wand it bursts out and recedes back into the wand when the caster loses concentration or energy. Your spell came straight out without stopping and changed from being defensive to offensive. I do believe, Harry, that you just invented an offensive light spell."
Harry shrugged. "I have never cast spells in this manner before. Where I come from, magic is rarely cast individually and shields are almost never used unless they're made of metal."
Remus smiled and brushed the dust off his shoulder. "No one will hold this against you, Harry. I'm really quite impressed, actually. For someone who has never used a casting instrument before you channelled your magic perfectly."
"And that was cool." Ron pointed out.
"And it was cool." Remus repeated. "Well class, that's enough for today, why don't you carry on to your lunch break now and don't worry, the classroom will be repaired by the time of your next lessons. Well done everybody, see you on Friday!"
Harry broke away from the classroom and headed for the nearest exit to the school grounds that he could find. Not feeling particularly hungry, he began a fast walk down to the lake where he sat near the bank and hung his head in his hands, struggling with the magic still coursing around his system.
"You alright?" Neville asked as he came up behind Harry with sandwiches in his hands.
Harry sighed and nodded. "I'm just not hungry."
Neville sat down beside the downhearted boy with the long black hair and began to eat his lunch, pausing between mouthfuls to strike up conversation. "I like it out here, it's a lot calmer than inside the castle."
Harry nodded in agreement and pulled off his shoes and socks before dipping his feet in the cool waters of the lake. He removed his tie and belt and began to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt.
"You're not going for a swim are you?"
Harry smiled softly at Neville. "No, but where I come from the clothing we wear is a lot less restrictive. All these heavy robes and strangulating articles make me very uncomfortable."
"Oh." Neville said. "Why not wear a variant of your own clothes which are somewhat in-keeping with the style of the Hogwarts uniform?"
"Because when I was pulled here the only clothes I had were the ones I was wearing that day which were a rustic red with autumnal coloured linings and tapers." Harry said sadly. "It's not exactly in-keeping, is it? And I don't even know where it's gone, I'm sure my godfather and I packed it but it has been removed from my belongings."
Neville brushed the crumbs from his lap and wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders. "You really want to go home, don't you?" He asked softly.
Harry nodded and looked up as his other side was flanked by Hermione. She too embraced him from one side, rubbing his back in small circles just like Maberin used to when he was upset.
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," She explained, "I was going to bring you some food. Harry, do you have someone you can talk to about this?"
"Sirius has offered, and I do like him, but really I just want my family." Harry said. "It's not just my clothes that have gone, some of my journals disappeared at first, but they were back this morning. I think it's because they're not written in English."
"Your clothes will turn up." Hermione soothed. "I can ask some of the house elves to keep an eye out if you like."
"House elves?" Harry asked, perplexed.
"Technically 'Brownies' but they were renamed house elves fifty years ago." Neville supplied.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Who knows?" Neville shrugged. "Something to do with the leprechauns apparently. Did Snape give you a hard time just now?"
"No," Harry answered, "He told me he'll give me advanced tuition and that I should use the class time to tutor you."
"That's very unusual for him." Hermione remarked.
"Hermione!" Neville gasped mockingly. "Speaking ill of a teacher!"
"It's not necessarily a bad thing to say, it's just the truth." Hermione defended herself, glowering slightly. "I think it's a wonderful thing to do."
"What lesson do we have next?" Harry asked, keen to change the subject.
In Toldolennor, the winds were stronger and there was a chill in the air. The snow had fallen freezing the smaller waters and blanketing the ground in a layer of pristine whiteness. Maberin let a tear fall from his eye as he remembered that he had taught Harry to love the snow and they had come to spend every winter enjoying it.
"Mel'amin?"
Maberin turned to Bronadui, who wiped the tear from his face.
"The wait is nearly over." He soothed his mate. "The preparations nearly made."
Maberin nodded. "But everything is so empty without him."
Bronadui nodded pain clear in his eyes. "I miss him too. How odd that someone in our life for such a short period of time has made so much of an impact."
"Can't we bring the departure forward? Can't we go sooner?" Maberin pleaded.
"I will see the council again after the cold season, but do not raise your hopes Maberin; I highly doubt they will say yes." Bronadui warned. "My mind magics are not as they were, I cannot reach him telepathically."
"He is still in distress, though I feel now that his mind suffers less from shock, more from a depression."
"Keep trying, Mel'amin."
"Excited for Christmas, Harry?" Ron asked on the twentieth of December.
Their classes had ended the day before excluding Harry's private healing classes with Pomfrey and potions with Severus. They had stayed in bed until almost noon just for the simple fact that they could, and they were joined by Hermione who had gotten sick of waiting for them in the common room. She was currently under the covers with Neville and the two kept collapsing into fits of giggles that would make Ron's ears turn red.
"I don't really understand the concept of Christmas." Harry admitted. "During the cold seasons where I am from, it simply became a holiday for most whose trade was impeded by the weather, but for my parents it always meant extra work. I get excited about the snow, but only if my parents are around to enjoy it with me."
"Don't you trade gifts?" Ron asked.
"No." Harry said, "Although I have a friend whose birthday will come around soon and I would usually make him a gift but, as I won't be able to give him anything, I just don't see the point. What sort of things do you do on Christmas?"
"Dress up, give gifts, eat ourselves sick." Ron shrugged. "Anything you like."
"Christmas is the celebration derived from Christian beliefs about the son of god's birth." Hermione explained. "Didn't you celebrate Christmas before you left your aunt and uncle's house?"
Harry had eventually opened up to the three gryffindors and explained why he had been out of touch, though without letting them know about his elven heritage and the true nature of Toldolennor. So, to compensate, he had gone into great detail about his life with his aunt and uncle, including covering their mistreatment of him.
"My cousin was given presents, his aunt visited and I had to cook different food." Harry shrugged. "It was always just another day to me, though."
"So this is essentially your first Christmas?" Neville checked.
Harry nodded, still unsure of himself. "I don't think I am looking forward to Christmas."
"You said you usually make your friend a gift for his birthday? Well, why don't you make Sirius a gift for Christmas?"
"I could do."
The Christmas holidays passed uneventfully, but the new year began with the tumultuous introduction of Dolores Umbridge at the head table, a new ministry appointed staff member known by title as 'The High Inquisitor'.
"But if there is a high inquisitor, should there not be a low one to match it?" Ron asked between mouthfuls of sausage rolls.
"It looks to me to be less about logic, more about status. She is the only staff member with 'high' in her name, so it makes her seem more authoritative." Harry said. "But even so, I would still beeline for the headmaster or potions master Snape, simply because they have 'master' in their names."
"And the title of 'master' is earned, not appointed." Hermione said, scowling.
"Have you heard she's starting some weird petition against Hagrid and Remus?" Seamus Finnegan asked.
"Because Hagrid is a half giant and Remus is a werewolf?" Harry asked, venom lacing his voice. "How pathetic." He threw his most potent glare in her direction before announcing. "I'm sorry; I've really lost my appetite. I don't think I shall eat in here from now on if she is the company we must endure."
With that, he stood from the table and stormed out of the hall, heading for the dungeons where he knew Sirius was eating his lunch. Sirius too had been disinclined to eat in the great hall, holding a personal vendetta against Dolores Umbridge over her treatment of two of his good friends.
"Hello, godfather." Harry announced as he entered Severus' private rooms. "I'm here to eat with you."
"Good to have your company." Sirius grinned. "I hope you'll help me boycott the great hall."
"I think it's a good idea. We ought to eat in a space which rivals the hall where the anti-Umbridge staff and student populace may eat to escape her putrid existence." Harry said, boiling with anger. "You know, it's because of people like her the elves were forced to leave Earth. If my Adar met her he'd probably cut off her head."
"I'd like to see that." Sirius smirked. "Some soup?"
"Please."
"How are you getting on with your classes?" Sirius asked.
"Healing and potions are going very well. I was pleasantly surprised to find I could do ancient runes well too." Harry smiled. "Remus tells me I'm excellent at offensive spells and at spell crafting, though it's usually by accident. But I'm terrible at holding onto spells. I'm bloody awful at transfiguration though I am starting to understand charms much better now."
"And care of magical creatures?"
"I'm a magical being, godfather, of course I'm doing well with that."
"So why is it that you're improving in charms but not in transfiguration?"
Harry sighed. "I think it's because I can make the charms elemental, and elemental magic is an area I thrive in. But transfiguration is so unnatural; I almost don't want to learn it. I want to drop out, but McGonagall says that as it's a core subject and my house subject, I can't."
"That's hardly fair," Sirius frowned, "You were never correctly sorted in the first place."
"I may just stop going altogether." Harry said. "I mean, what are they going to do? Take house points? I don't care. Give me detention? I shan't turn up. Expel me? Perfect."
"I'll talk to McGonagall for you and I can give you a bit of help if you like." Sirius suggested.
"If you don't mind." Harry said timidly, his earlier fire all but burnt out. "It's not the theory I struggle on, I'm top of the class when it comes to essays and such, it's just the practical element."
"Piece of toast." Sirius smiled. "Just leave it to me. Oh! And, about your query after your robes. I spoke to Severus and left it with him and he turned over a gold nugget or, rather, he located your clothes, gave Albus a lashing and has the clothes right here."
Harry's eyes filled momentarily. "Did the headmaster say why he had taken them?"
"He said he took them to avoid awkward questions being asked of you and to help combat homesickness. Something which, well, shoot me, but I'm inclined to believe it." Sirius said.
"May I wear them now?" Harry asked.
"What about your classes?"
"All that remains is transfiguration and potions, I don't care much for either considering I wish to drop the former and I'm well ahead on the latter. Neville can survive without me for one lesson." Harry said hurriedly. "Sirius, please, I need to get out of these clothes."
Harry followed Sirius into the bedroom and tried not to pay too much attention to the rumpled bed covers and the selection of clothing on the floor. And there, hanging over the door to the wardrobe was his beloved robe his Adar gave him. It was just as he remembered it, in pristine condition. A lump built in his throat as he was yet again reminded of home and, uncaring and brazen about his body, he quickly stripped off and gathered his robes to him, breathing in the just-lingering scent of his home before he carefully dressed himself.
"You really have missed it." Sirius smiled as he brushed some imaginary lint off Harry's shoulder.
Harry nodded as he turned to look at himself in the mirror. "It's bigger than before." He said, "I've lost weight."
"You don't eat right." Sirius said sternly. "And you were of a small frame any way."
"Any muscles I had before I came here have also gone." Harry remarked. "I don't get enough exercise."
"We can start exercising together if you want." He said. "Some jogging and maybe we can goad Severus into teaching you some hand to hand combat."
Harry smiled softly. "I'd like that."
"Just leave everything to me." Sirius whispered softly as he embraced Harry from behind and kissed the top of his head.
Sometime later, half way through the potions class Harry was skiving, a student from the class came to Severus' private quarters and disturbed Sirius' work and Harry's sofa-sleep.
"Sorry to wake you, Potter, but Umbridge is demanding to know why you aren't in class."
"Now?" Harry asked, not a small bit annoyed, "When it's half over?"
The ravenclaw shrugged. "Are you coming?"
Harry nodded. "Just let me wash my face."
"Mind your tongue, Harry." Sirius warned from his desk. "That woman can cause some serious trouble."
"And what can she do to me?" Harry asked tartly. "She knows nothing about me."
When Harry walked into the classroom he was met with many stares and some whispered comments which his sharpened hearing picked up with no trouble. Holding his head high, he strode over to the desk where Severus was sat, with a sick-note from Sirius complaining of erratic emotions, headaches, dizzy spells and disordered sleep patterns; something which Severus was well aware of.
"Very well, Potter." Severus said. "Though perhaps some medication is in order."
"Hem-hem." Umbridge coughed, drawing a cold glare from Harry. "Perhaps I should see the note professor?"
Severus curled his lip in distaste and set it down on his desk. "If you're so inclined." He turned his attention back to Harry, "Now-"
"Hem-hem." The pink-clad woman coughed again. "I have not seen such clothing laid out in the school uniform rules, Mister Potter, care to explain?"
"No." He snapped. "But whilst we're on the subject of clothing, at no point during the expected staff attire does it mention voluminous pink, pencil skirts and high heels. Yet apparently you've seen fit to wear them."
"Well, I'm hardly ordinary staff. What is that you're wearing, by the way?"
"Clothing." Harry snapped again, feeling his agitation rise each time she spoke.
"And where was it from?"
"That is really none of your business. I don't query you on your choice of clothing venues."
"Again Harry, if I may call you Harry-"
"No you may not." Harry growled.
"Ten points from gryffindor."
Harry laughed coldly. "Oh, bollocks if you think I care." He snarled. "Take the lot away if you really want to."
"Mister Potter," Severus snarled, "I do believe the medication I suggested is needed now. Longbottom, your vial, if you please."
Neville nervously passed over a vial of his potion, stammering about how he didn't think it was good enough. His protests fell on deaf ears however as Severus snatched the vial and thrust it into Harry's hand.
"Drink it for gods' sakes Harry." Severus hissed quietly.
Harry fixed the room with an arrogant stare before taking a long swig of the pale liquid from the vial and promptly falling into Severus' arms as his knees gave way beneath him. The last he heard from the room was 'too much camomile, Mister Longbottom.'
Harry felt the world go cloudy and light. He felt he was floating and that a great weight and oppression was slowly lifting, first from his mind and then his body. He focused slightly when he felt a familiar and comforting presence enter his mind. He latched onto it, embracing it deep within his subconscious and in his mind he called out the word "Ada!"
But, in his delirious and uninhibited state, he could not distinguish between what he said inside his mind and what leaked out through his mouth to the shocked-into-silence inhabitants of the potions classroom
"What's an Ada?" Someone asked.
"Turo'le lhaw nin?" Harry called. "Im garo'emel dimb'o ar'le."
"Huin abo'na dabo nin na tulo'bar." He cried, tears beginning to stream down his face.
"Clearly we are hearing half a conversation we are not entitled to." Severus said. "Class dismissed."
"Tithenlas!" Maberin cried unexpectedly, disturbing the congregation of dominants in his sitting room. He ran outside, covering his ears trying to block out all noise as the voice of his lost child filled his mind.
"Mel'amin?" Bronadui ran out after him, embracing his lover from behind, glee in his eyes as he listened to the conversation.
'I know, little leaf,' Bronadui heard Maberin 'say' to Harthad. 'Your Adar and I have felt your pain.'
'Do not worry, child,' Bronadui said, joining in the mental conversation, 'We are very anxious to come and get you. We will join you on Earth as soon as we are able.'
'When?' Harry's voice shrieked loudly.
'Soon, little leaf, soon, I promise.' Bronadui soothed him.
'Are you eating enough? Have they hurt you? Is there anyone there you trust?' Maberin asked frantically.
'My clothes are too big,' Harry complained, his voice slurring from the narcotic effects of the calming draught. 'I just want to come home.'
'Have they hurt you, Harthad?' Bronadui reiterated.
'No,' Harry moaned, 'I found Sirius, he looks after me.'
"Sirius?" Bronadui asked.
"The name means 'Helluin', mel'amin." Maberin explained. 'What have they drugged you with, Harry?'
'Calming draught.' Harry answered. 'And Severus is talking about an antidote, don't want it.'
"Severus?" Maberin asked out loud. 'You must take it, you are vulnerable like this.'
'Drink the antidote and contact us when you are at peace within your own mind.'
'NO! NO! Don't leave me!' Harry cried, 'No, Severus, don't wannitdon'twannitdon'twannit!'
As suddenly as Harry's presence had filled Maberin's mind, it was gone again and he could feel the cold emptiness he had endured since Harry's abduction settle in his heart again where the sudden elation had taken its place.
"He's alive." Bronadui stated, hope in his voice and tears in his eyes. "He's alive."
"They're drugging him, he's not being fed correctly and he suffers constant depression." Maberin said solemnly. "This, if nothing else, should speed the departure date. Go to them again Bronadui, please, go to them and tell them what we've learnt."
"They will not listen, mel'amin."
"Go anyway. I want them to feel cold inside."
Bronadui kissed Maberin's neck softly. "And so do I."
Harry lay crying on Severus' sofa, surrounded by the worried faces of the aforementioned potions master and professors Black, McGonagall and Dumbledore. Dolores Umbridge was also there, taking mental notes on Harry's strange attire and the language he had used. No spell she had surreptitiously cast had decoded the language for her own ears and nowhere in all her time had she come across such clothing as what the young boy was wearing.
But there was worse yet to come. Emboldened (if heartbroken) by the short conversation with his parents, Harry began to actively fight the glamour cast on him which hid his elven features.
"This is grave indeed." Albus remarked. "Dolores, would you be so kind as to fetch Madame Pomfrey from the hospital wing?"
"I am not your staff, Albus." She said primly.
"If you refuse to make yourself useful, then remove yourself from my quarters." Severus snapped.
"How dare-"
"Everyone in this room has some right to be here except for you, Dolores. Get out!" Sirius barked.
"Now, see here-"
Harry sat up straight and glared at her, his emerald eyes glinting fiercely as he sharply yelled, "Et!" Combining his elvish heritage with wizarding technique, he created an offensive charm which blasted the pink-clad witch from the room though caused no actual damage.
"Nice one Harry." Sirius said before drawing Harry into an embrace. "What happened?"
"I spoke with Ada." Harry said between his sobs. "I want to go home!"
"My dear boy," Albus spoke softly, removing the remains of the glamour and smoothing Harry's hair back. "I knew you were hurting, but please know I never meant to cause you this pain."
Harry completely ignored him in favour of bawling into Sirius chest and burying himself in the animagus' embrace. With the glamour gone, it was easy to see how Harry's skin had taken on a grey sheen, causing him to look like the risen dead.
"Harry." Severus said, trying to get Harry's attention. "Harthad!"
Harry looked up at the man, still hiccupping softly.
"What is the matter with your skin?"
Harry swallowed down another sob and peered at his skin in some confusion. After a few moments recognition struck in his eyes and his myriad of emotions were completely engulfed by shock.
"I'm dying." He said softly. "Few things can kill the elves. We can drown, be crushed, be burnt to death and be hacked to pieces. We are immune to everything but the common cold. But in turn we are heavily affected by our emotions. I believe I am suffering from Grief. I am literally dying of a broken heart."
Fresh tears welled in his and Sirius' eyes and the two clasped each other tightly and cried together as the other three inhabitants of the room withdrew into a corner of the room.
"Is there nothing we can do?" Minerva asked, she too feeling the onslaught of tears.
"I cannot send him home." Albus admitted. "I cannot locate the Sidhe, I have not been able to since I sent Harry the portkey."
"There is only one thing I can think of. On the day of Harry's disappearance, Draco Malfoy was near stone henge and he saw the sudden rain and, amidst the stones, a glowing figure who vanished as quickly as he'd arrived." Severus admitted. "I had my suspicions then. They were further stimulated when Draco saw Harry for a moment at my home. He had later asked both Remus and I who the glowing boy was in my kitchen. This is why I asked you to help me keep Harry away from Draco. Now I believe that the only thing that will save Harry is, in fact, Draco."
"I don't understand." Albus admitted.
"Draco is a Veela!" Severus hissed. "And Harry Potter is his mate!"
AN: Thank you all for reading, please don't forget to review. Someone noticed that I typo'd in the last chapter, stating that Harry was going on sixteen, not fifteen. Whoops. Lol. Thanks for pointing that out. Translations:
Turo'le lhaw nin? – (loosely) Can you hear me?
Im garo'emel dimb'o ar'le – I have feelings of sadness without you
Huin abo'na dabo nin na tulo'bar – They refuse to allow me to come home
Et – Out
AN: I was asked if I could place the translations immediately after the elvish in the story. I'm afraid the answer is no. I have it as it is for narrative purposes (it creates restricted narration) and because I feel slotting in translations and author notes mid-prose detracts from the story. Some of you will have noticed I did do it at first and that's because I only recently discovered the benefits of doing things differently.
