Chapter Seven – Child's Play

"Finally," Harry said when he pushed through the last pile of snow. "I'm not doing that again anytime soon and I'm all wet." He flipped his overly long shirt sleeve around and wrung it around to dry it. Snow had gotten everywhere and then melted because of the warming charms.

He decided to take a break. It seemed he had not taken the whole day to cross the mountains or then he had taken two. Hopefully he had not taken three. At least he was tired enough for that to be true and the sun was again setting. It seemed he did nothing else but travel and jump around here.

"What's this?" He wondered when he removed his overcoat to see it covered in a thin film of golden dust that was disappearing before his very eyes. He drew his finger along the dust and it tickled. "Magic," he whispered.

Harry made a small fire, not bothering with the hiding charms now that the elves were left behind. He doubted the orc's would come around this way either. There were no bigger caves in this area and he was still relatively high on the mountain. Orcs and trolls preferred lower ground.

He could've just as easily spelled his clothes dry but it really was only his overcoat that was in need of serious drying anymore so he hung it up next to the fire. Harry took out the last of his last night's fish from his bag and some bread. He was pretty satisfied how fast he was travelling again. At this rate it would only take him a few days to reach the coast. He didn't want to think about the possibility that no one there would know England or could help him home. Someone in this place had to and he would find him or her. There had to be a wizard in one of the western towns.

'How odd,' Harry thought and whipped his head around. He was sure he had seen something from the corner of his eye.

'If I saw, then it probably means there is,' he figured and stayed alert while sitting next to the fire. He let his magic wander about. Watchful and ready.

'There!'

A shadow had moved on his right. Behind the first trees and just beyond the light of his campfire.

"Alright, come out. I already saw you," Harry shouted and stood up. He pushed his magic forward in a volley. It looked like a burst of wind and suddenly he was much more conscious of his surroundings.

There was someone there. Someone dark. The person was tall and powerful. For a moment, just the time it took you to blink, Harry thought that this someone potentially could help him. But then it rushed over him that this person was murky and he felt this person was actually subservient to someone else. Just like the dark mark.

"An elfling?" A voice suddenly rasped from the shadows.

Harry had to think for a second before he realized it was the language he had learnt from the orc. Black speech.

"What's it to you?" Harry asked and tensed. He knew some of the creatures that dwelled in the land of Mordor. Few of them were of the sort that wouldn't try to eat him on the spot and none wished him well. "Come out from the shadows!"

"An elfling... lost.." It rasped.

Harry sighed. This was going to kill him if everyone was this thick and what was it with the elfling comment. He would know if he was an elf. Maybe it was his hair...

"No, thank you for the concern but I know exactly where I am," Harry challenged.

"Without protection," the thing whispered and it had moved three trees to the left.

"You keep thinking that but come here where I can show you how wrong you are!" Harry said, standing proudly about four feet tall. The creep was giving him chills the more it talked.

The shadow moved and first Harry though it somehow bent the shadows but then he noticed a ragged cloak appearing in the clearing. This thing was huge!

"Master will be pleased..." The thing rasped.

Harry really – really didn't want to use legilimency on this thing. It reminded him of a dementor too much and even he had not been idiotic enough to try it on one of them.

"Was it you, little elfling," it spat out 'elfling' as if a curse word. "That called the world?"

"Whu? What are you on about?" Harry asked while warily following the things progression. "What are you anyhow?"

There was no seeing under the things hood. It was pitch black. Harry noticed he couldn't see the things arms although they should be there. He only saw steel gloves.

'It's invisible? That can make things interesting.'

It made a sniffing sound and turned its head as if it was smelling something…

"Yess, it was you," it hissed.

Harry had a flashback of Riddle talking in parseltongue.

"So much power... in one so young. Yet you do not know who I am," It stated and walked closer.

Harry figured this thing would have an ego two miles wide. He stood his ground but raised his magic. It would make this 'dementor' go boom just as soon as he wished so.

The thing halted, as if feeling what he had done. "You do not fear me," it stated, puzzled.

Harry snorted. "Sorry to disappoint you but you aren't exactly the scariest thing I've come across. I have no cause to fear you."

Somehow the thing managed to look like it was smiling without ever showing its face. "Youth... I am a Nazgûl and you should feel honored my master wants you."

"What would your master want with little old me?" Harry asked, really wanting to know.

"You rippled the world. Know it not you might but there is power within you. It belongs to master," The Nazgûl rasped.

'Rippled the world?' Harry tried to think what it meant. Unfortunately only one thing came to mind this fast. 'The mist. I must have pushed it too much. Was that why I ran into the elves – could they follow the mist as well?'

It seems everyone and their cousins knew that someone had arrived here and also where he was whenever he apparated or in any way disturbed the void. It went without saying that of course those who could feel the disturbance were also old enough to have learnt the skill or powerful enough. Neither choice was good. Especially when the elves were definitely old enough and some of them might also be powerful enough. Not a good combination.

'Rats ass!' Harry cursed silently.

The Nazgûl drew a long blade from its cloak. "You will come with me, elfling."

"Right," Harry said and figured in with a knut, in with a galleon. Everyone already knew he was here so why hold back. So he copied the idea from a cartoon he had seen and made his fist burst into flames. "I need to know more about your master. Are you willing to answer me or will you resist?"

The Nazgûl suddenly seemed hesitant, eyeing the flaming fist. Apparently it was enough dementor like that it just might be hurt by it.

Harry smiled.

He concentrated on the fire and it flashed to pure white. Patronus flame. This might hurt a bit more.

"Istari?" The Nazgûl blurted, sounding very baffled.

To Harry it reminded an owl, turning its head from right to left and almost around. It worried him a bit when he noticed or rather felt, as he still couldn't see a face, almost a gleeful excitement from it.

"Master will be pleased..." The Nazgûl rasped and started to walk towards Harry rapidly while lifting its blade.

Swoosh, the blade swished down and Harry nimbly sidestepped.

The Nazgûl was growling.

"What did you expect? That I'd just stand there like an idiot?" Harry couldn't help but ask. What was wrong with these people.

Harry apparated behind it and struck its back with his flaming fist. The patronus flame going straight through the things chest and coming out on the other side.

The Nazgûl screeched but it sounded more surprised than hurt.

"Oh-kay. Maybe not exactly like a dementor," Harry said and ran backwards to avoid another swing of the blade.

The Nazgûl screamed. It seemed frustrated. "Surrender, elfing. You have no hope." It rasped and charged forward.

Harry swayed a bit on his feet. He was not a superman. His small body had missed a lot of rest today and fighting insane invisible bad things wasn't a good thing right now. He had to put it down fast. He decided to put the fear of fire in this creature. He concentrated, he remembered the last time he had used fiendfyre. It had been with the elder wand. He remembered acutely how he had felt the flame grow inside of him. How it had burst out the wand tip and the power the elder wand put to it above his own. He certainly hadn't tried this spell wandless before.

Harry closed his eyes and enchanted in his mind. He focused on that single memory and then let his magic rush free.

He suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe. His magic was reaching and gathering like an ocean wave. Like it was drawing on something. Then the sensation was over and fiery fire burst from his hand and spread around the clearing. The flames seemed to lick the dark night sky.

Harry was momentarily stunned and stared at his hand when he realised that he was actually holding the elder wand. "How?"

Luckily for him, his moment of thought didn't cost him an arm or a leg as the Nazgûl was equally surprised though it was mostly concentrating on the fire.

Harry knew how his fiendfyre looked. It was a horde of lizard like dragons that had white coal eyes. They stamped forward, silent, as a herd and their tails left the fires burning hotter and hotter. He could feel the scorching heat burning his face even though he was the caster and nowhere near the flames.

"Sorry to tell you, but it's doubtful you are ever going to see your master again," Harry said.

The Nazgûl probably had a whiplash as it turned towards him and then it actually growled.

Harry felt almost insulted because it seemed the thing had already forgotten him.

"Foolish youngling, I am always together with my master!" It shouted apparently now seeing him as a real threat.

Harry made his dragons dance closer to his adversary and then one of the dragons pounced.

The Nazgûl was fast but not fast enough. The dragon's tail hit it on the side and it let out an unholy screech.

Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to kill the Nazgûl or not. The thing seemed the type to be guilty of killing a lot of people and it had tried to kill him. Yet, Harry hesitated. It seemed wrong. It seemed like he was killing a muggle. Maybe this was the moment that Voldemort had crossed?

As the Nazgûl was writhing on the ground, Harry decided to try and read its mind. Stupid, yeah, but he was a Gryffindor. Quickly he slipped into the mist and was surprised. There he saw the thing better. It was like a ghost. It stood white against the colorful mist but it was distorted, as if a great wind was blowing. It looked like a inferi. A rotten corpse of a man. Reading the dead was just not done. It only led to insanity.

Harry didn't have time to take back his spell. Two things happened at the same time. He breached the Nazgûls outer mind and instantly wanted to throw up. The orc's darkness had been nothing compared to this. Voldemort had been nothing compared to this and Harry fought to leave. He could feel something fighting him back. Trying to trap him. It was not the Nazgûl but he could see a deep shadow there. The master.

As Harry stumbled forward the injured Nazgûl saw its chance against this unknown opponent. It lurched up and stabbed Harry with it's dark blade managing to wound him on his bicep.

Harry was jerked back to himself when something burned his right arm. His eyes were probably as wide as saucers when he looked at the sword that had impaled his arm. Then the Nazgûl jerked the blade sideways as it danced away from one of Harry's dragons. Harry felt the fiendfyre fight for dominance. It was just waiting to grab control and devour everything.

His mind was whirling. The elder wand was connecting with him again and seemed pissed off that he had tried to abandon it. His head was filled with dead things crawling around from his bout of legilimency. He tried to keep track of his fiendfyre and the Nazgûl. Luckily the flames still eagerly hunted the thing. And now it seemed he had a piece of a sword slicing through him. Or dust of that sword as the thing seemed to be evaporating.

He shrugged his arm and directed a healing spell on it with his wand. Then he went after the Nazgûl.

His fiendfyre had herded the wraith on a small space already. The dragons snipped at its heals, wanting to eat it whole.

"So, ready to talk yet?" Harry asked and casually leaned on a burnt tree husk.

"You were mortally wounded by a Morgul blade!" The Nazgûl screamed and twirled to avoid yet another bite.

"That what it was? Sorry to tell you but my blood is usually too strong for any poison. So I'm still here, happy and healthy." Harry shrugged and figured that it probably also helped he had cast a healing spell with the elder wand.

"I am not your prisoner!" The Nazgûl spat.

"Could've fooled me," Harry stated and made the dragons form a cage around the wraith. "Either you tell me, Khazul, or I rip it all from your mind." He threatened and hoped the Nazgûl wouldn't call him on his bluff. It really wasn't easy to be threatening when you were four feet tall and cute as a button.

The Nazgûl stood in its cage, unmoving and unrelenting. Glaring at him for using its real name. Pretty much the only thing Harry had managed to unearth from its mind.

Harry sighed. Figures. He had two choices, either to kill this thing or let it go. If he let it go, it would come after him again. There was no doubt of that. He could probably still kick its arse again and maybe any help it would bring along but the biggest damage this thing could do above that, was to announce where, what and who Harry was.

He contemplated delving into the creatures mind again to perhaps seal or obliviate this information away. But this thing was old, perhaps older than Erewan and Harry didn't have skill to deal with that. Not to mention this thing was dark, as in the most evil dark there was. It was also already sort of dead. Harry wasn't sure what was keeping it alive though. Perhaps it was the master.

He rubbed his face. This went against every ounce of Gryffindor he had in took a deep breath and then fed the dragons more power. So much that the flames turned blue and then white.

He closed his eyes and the dragons attacked the Nazgûl.

Khazuls screams were cut short as nothing could withstand the flames of fiendfyre.

When Harry opened his eyes a second later his firedragons were awaiting more orders. Harry turned to look the world through the mist and he thought he maybe could see an outline of the Nazgûl still. It was slowly floating southwards as if a very pale and hazy sort of ghost. Harry shot an obliviate after the impression. Maybe that would get rid of the memory. It seemed that habitants of this place were rather difficult to deal with. At least he now knew the next time he decided to abandon his honor, he should do so with more thoroughness. Then he looked down at his wand again. His.

~o~

Harry thought it better to leave the battle ground behind him as soon as possible. He forced himself to stay awake and begun flying his broom. His thoughts were tumultuous. He put the elder wand carefully in his bag. Still feeling a bit awed that it had just appeared or had he pulled it here?

Would there be other enemies that were behind him now? He had been a bit too arrogant in his assumption that he knew what this land had to offer. Who else could be interested in him? What had the dark lord seen? Was the nazgûl really still alive?

He struggled to fly for an hour or so while he headed northwards. His first plan had been to head directly towards the sea but now a detour seemed safer. Eventually he became so tired that he halted awake when the broom was only a feet from the ground, drifting. That was when he decided that he was far enough.

Harry took the old ward stones from his bag, wary of using any magic until he could deem it safe. Once the stones were hiding his magic, he threw up at least six different wards that all required only a small amount of magic. Then he put up his tent and crawled in, dead on his feet. If there was one good thing about being that tired, it was that his mind was too exhausted to worry over anything else but sleep.

~o~

Next morning Harry was sitting outside of his tent, staring at the elder wand and pondering about his next move. He still couldn't do any magic while he was in the mist, that had been his first cautious effort but he sort of could keep looking through the whole haze. And now it seemed that he couldn't do much magic at all, unless he solved the little problem of leaving big neon signs like 'this way to the new guy!'.

Harry was still amazed of how he could feel the wand in his hand. He had almost forgotten the feeling of it belonging to him. True, he didn't need a wand but nevertheless this was his. It felt different to him than his very first wand. His phoenix core wand always had the memories of its brother with it. Maybe that was why Harry had learnt wandless magic in the first place.

He lifted his sleeve up and examined the place where the blade had pierced his skin. There was nothing there. The Nazgûl had seemed truly surprised that he was not more badly injured.

"It pays to have basiliks blood and phoenix tears in me then," Harry figured. His healer back home had been unsure of the effects. Only thing the healer could confirm was that neither the tears nor the poison had vanished. They were both still there. Usually phoenix tears healed and then disappeared but when confronted by basilisk venom... It didn't seem like the venom was still causing havoc and the tears healing it all up. Rather that they had infused themselves with Harry's blood. Which meant blood magic didn't really work on him anymore. That had sucked when he tried to do some inheritance rituals to create his own family tree only to get naga ancestors.

Harry tried to make sparks come out of the wand and wasn't really surprised when he got some sort of smelly foam.

"I'm sorry all right!" He flushed red. "It was the right thing to do to leave you with Dumbledore. You were his and it was time to give the world some peace."

The wand remained unassumingly in his hand.

"Come on, you can't say you didn't like it with him when he was alive. He probably used you to conjure up some super lemon drops and extra garish robes or something. Now wasn't that fun instead of all the fighting? And you did get to do some battles as well. Dumbledore was brilliant."

The wand vibrated.

Harry sighed. "What if I promise not to leave you again?"

Harry had a staring match with his wand and it took a minute for him to realize what he was doing and he groaned. "This is way too early for shit like this. You're mine now. Deal with it!" He snapped.

The wand happily obliged and sprouted a huge shower of pink sparkles. It seemed it just needed to be commanded and owned.

"You haven't met a wizard named Lockheart, have you?" Harry wondered suspiciously.

After the debacle with his wand which finally seemed happy with its part in life, Harry turned to look at the mist. The source of all his problems here. He made several bigger ward stones intended to keep his magic hidden. Unfortunately he couldn't say for sure their magic would reach the haze as well in the void between.

It seemed the mist reacted to some spells while others did nothing to it. Harry was determined to solve this puzzle now. He wanted to try and summon the rest of his hallows to him. If they wouldn't come then nothing from his home would. If they did, well then just maybe he could go there as well.

"Lumos," he said once more and watched as the spell flowed in the mist. Not disturbing it at all.

"Stupefy," he shot the stunner at a rock. It ripped through the air and pushed the mist about. It didn't ripple it but it was close.

Harry sighed. He drew some more marks on the sand in front of him. He had already drawn there what he knew of the spells. He wanted to see why they would be so different. He had tried the spells wandlessly as well as with a wand. That had made no difference. There was something in that mist...

He took a deep breath and let the mist surround him. The transition was easy by now. He opened his eyes.

The haze was still the same. It surrounded everything, yet he couldn't crab it or inhale it. It was as if there was an invisible film on top of him that kept him separate.

Harry decided to try something. He concentrated on staying in the void and then simply brought his magic out. Everything turned yellow.

"Bloody hell," he whispered. He was like a flaming torch here. His own magic was so – young. It was zooming around, playfully forming small tornados that teased the haze and then it curled around Harry once more. He was like a small sun.

Curious, he watched as his yellow magic twirled a little with the purple haze. He closed his eyes and spread his own magic.

Suddenly he was yanked backwards or at least he felt like he was falling.

This other magic, because that what the mist definitely was, was old and powerful. It had seen wars, it carried in it many powerful races. It was all and everything.

Harry didn't notice that he was crying.

He could sense the battles that had been fought. He could almost see the magical safe havens there were. He realized there were so many kinds of magic. Dark, powerful, light, furious, sparkling, low key, natural, the diversity just continued on and on.

Then he was back to himself. Still sitting in the same spot and the mist surrounding him. Harry gasped for air and then realized that he was breathing in the void. That didn't make sense.

"Err… what just happened?" He breathed.

He looked around himself, worried what he might find. But his magic was still there. Sparkling like the brightest day. The mist still swirled around him but now he felt connected to that as well. Could it all be so simple?

"You are old," Harry stated, realization finally coming to him. It wasn't about the spells themselves but it had been him. He had not understood. At times, his own magic was too different. If he wanted to use magic, he should feel it first. He had done so when he began learning magic at eleven and deepened that connection to almost unheard of levels when he delved into wandless arts.

"Stupefy," Harry whispered and watched in excitement as the spell weaved itself through the mist and like a small firework, splashed against the same rock as earlier. Harry held his breath and waited for something to happen. Nothing did.

"Thank you," Harry reverently whispered to the old magic and he felt as if he had been given a priceless gift. He felt accepted and hoped his feeling carried over as he returned to the normal world. He wanted to hoop for joy.

~o~

"Damn," Harry cursed after his first try of apparition. It seemed that was still a big no no. Apparating pushed the mist around, making it easy to follow him if there was someone close by that could read the signs.

But thus far all his spells worked fine. It was risky but he really thought he now had to try some serious summoning.

In his days gone from home, nine so far, he had gradually began to morph some sort of theory of where he was. It had first jumped in his head when he had seen the orc's mind. The elf had simply strengthened it, yet he hadn't wanted to believe. This thing with this world's magic just hammered the last nail in his coffin. He was really, like really, far away from home.

He didn't know if this was what one might call alternative reality but it certainly was a totally different world. Time had not changed - maybe, but place certainly had. The how's and why's he still couldn't answer. But in order to get back home he would need to do some serious work. That his wand had followed him here was a really good sign. Then again it was one of the hallows of death and apparently he was still the 'master of death'. Not that he had ever seen himself like that.

He had argued over it once with Hermione before she had gone on tangents. He hadn't even met Death, if it was about him dying then he was merely an acquaintance of death because it was only his own death that he could avoid. He wasn't in position to tell the Death to do anything like a master should. Most importantly he didn't want to be the master of death.

Harry had let his newfound knowledge of this world's magic help him feel out his surroundings. Now when he let his magic take a look around it spread for miles. It was a tickly feeling. And he was relieved that he could say no one was around. He got a bit winded though when his own magic returned. It was such a rush.

Harry had drawn two rune circles on the sand. They were not very durable but would do their thing. He didn't think he would disturb the mist with his summoning but the outer rune layer protected him from searching eyes. The inner layer was there to give him focus and maybe up the power a little. He hoped it was enough.

"Here it goes," he said to himself and grabbed his wand with two hands. "ACCIO!" he shouted and focused all his will on his father's cloak.

He felt the elder wand vibrate eagerly. It was times like these when it was simple to believe that some deity had had a hand in creating the thing. It twisted his magic, it called out to its other part, the second hallow. All the hallows belonged to Harry. They were a part of him.

Harry could feel his magic do something odd but didn't dare to take his focus of the cloak. He had never felt like this when doing magic. True, the summoning spell sometimes took a while to bring him what he wanted but now he felt as if he was sitting in a middle of a tornado. Like the spell was going through all the things in a world to find what he wanted. Harry had let his magic flow free, offering it all to use and kept his mind firmly on the prize.

"Accio cloak, accio cloak," had become his quiet mantra.

Then he felt a tug in his magic. That was really something as his magical reservoirs were supposedly endless. His wand was vibrating.

Pop

Everything calmed down and Harry dared to take a peek. He had shut his eyes at some point. He could still feel his magic restlessly moving around but the world looked like nothing special had happened. Not a stray of grass was out of place.

"Nothing?" He asked and looked around expectantly. There should be something. His magic wouldn't just give up after all that. Right?

"Oh, come on!" He whined.

Harry lifted his wand to his eye level, as if it would tell him what went wrong. But it remained as it was. A wooden wand.

He was just standing up when he felt something light covering him. He looked at his arms, lifted them and laughed. It was his father's cloak which had apparently appeared above him and now had drifted down.

"This is interesting," he said and looked at the elder wand with a little bit of awe.

"Accio stone," he shouted immediately and again felt the huge rush of his magic. It was a very heady feeling. He could see now how the wand had mesmerized so many people. He hoped he himself was used to this now so that the wand would not get the upper hand. He hadn't really read about its history that much.

Harry concentrated again on the stone, he imagined himself holding it. He could feel the texture of it and every crack he had seen in it when the horcrux had been destroyed. He didn't doubt that the summoning charm would fail. Magic would not let him down. But it was different to call something that was missing. He had known that his cloak was in the master bedroom in Grimmault place. The stone on the other hand…

Whiii

Harry heard something small whistle on the air as it fell. He looked up and the ring smacked him on the head. On his eye to be exact.

"Damn, bloody, hell!" He shouted and danced from one leg to another while keeping his palm over his eye with a cooling charm. He glared at the rock with his one good eye.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked accusingly.

Maybe all the hallows were a tad miffed at him because he had abandoned tried to. Could magical objects have that sort of feelings? Harry immediately thought of Hogwarts and Riddle's diary and his wand and was assured the ring had done this on purpose.

Without thinking he picked it up. He was also still wearing his father's cloak and the wand. It had been a while since the hallows had been united and this time it was with their master. He had not kept them together since those fleeting moments in his last year of school and even then he had not claimed to be their master. A golden cyclone grew around him.

"No, no, no, no. Bad hallows," Harry moaned as he watched the cyclone rip into the purple mist. He had half a mind to conjure a newspaper and smack the wand and the stone with it. He was pretty sure his cloak had nothing to do with this. That was the good hallow.

He noticed the mist was getting more and more dispersed and vast. He had to do something.

"STOP!" Harry shouted and watched in wonder as the golden haze of the hallows formed a large circle around him. Entrapping the restless purple mist.

"This can't be good. What to do? What to do..." He could feel the need to hurry. Nothing could hold magic like that for very long. He didn't even want to try. He was getting very bad vibes from it. He was currently poking a sleeping dragon.

Harry couldn't just make the mist disappear. That would leave a void and if he was some ancient entity of magic and someone came and vanished his left buttock, he would take an offence. And if he just popped his magic away, that wouldn't do a thing to calm the mist. Maybe if he filtered it back slowly...

Harry was concentrating on what he wanted the magic to do. It felt so surreal. After all, most of his life, he had believed you had to know the incantation and right wand movements and here he was, trying to talk with magic directly.

He shook his head. Now was not a time for a Hermione-moment.

Inch by inch the ball of magic grew smaller while it left a pacified mist in its wake. This was the first time in a long while when Harry didn't feel in control when he performed magic. And how could he when he didn't know what he was doing. He was just flying by the moment. It was instinctual.

When it was over, he was left standing next to his collapsed tent wondering if it was time to start today's journey. Perhaps towards west again, just in case someone had once more noticed him tinkering around.

"This is getting ridiculous. I don't even know if someone is after me…"

~o~

Harry was flying with good speed. It might've been just his imagination but he thought his broom flew better now that it had some experience under it. Not that it still flew any higher than ten feet and it also liked to drift a little bit here and there and plunge to the ground occasionally.

He had counted that he had travelled approximately 400 miles by now. The misty mountains were left behind and the place he was flying over now was called Eregion. In a few days he was supposed to cross the river Hoarwell and then he figured his best bet was to find the old Greenway. There he was sure to stumble upon the first men around here. The Greenway was still the most used road from south to either north or most often, to the western shoreline.

He was a bit excited now. He really wanted to meet men here and maybe find a wizard or two. Neither the elf nor the orc had a clear picture of the race of men. Only impressions. The elf's were so old that they were practically useless and the orc planned a menu every time it saw a man.

Harry was also eager to try out his hallows or rather his father's cloak and he couldn't help but wonder if the ring would help him connect to home or if a spell cast with the elder wand would actually bring him there. It frustrated him that all he knew about the hallows came from children stories. He had no idea what they really meant to him. Sure, he seemed to be immortal when wearing them and he played with the idea that one of those trains in the between worlds could also be a way home. Unfortunately he would have to 'die' here first. It might be something to look into later if nothing else worked. Maybe.

Harry was also still awed about his discoveries of this place. He could still feel the magic around him and couldn't shrug off the memory of his time studying it. He had felt so small, so connected, so protected and so- welcome.

~o~

"I've never been gladder to be on a broom as I am now," Harry muttered while he flew over the Swanfleet swamp. It was getting late and he had counted on being well past this place by now. His little rest earlier in the day had done nothing good to his schedule. Also, the orcs as a race had either lousy sense of smell or then they liked odd things. There was nothing in the memories he'd seen about the foul smell here but this place stank. A lot.

Harry wanted to find a good place to spend the night as the river was still far ahead of him. He felt that he was becoming tired of all this travelling. He did want to see the world but not as much as he wanted to find a way back home. He'd been over a week on this journey by now and mostly spent it by himself. That was not fun.

He was also tired of travelling this slowly but it would be even more awful to travel by muggle means which here meant that he would be forced to do all this by foot or on a horse. At least after this he would really appreciate magical travel. Even flooing seemed a good choice now though he really disliked it as it left him spitting soot and sprawled on the floor. But if it would get him from one end of the country to other in less than a minute, then he'd love it.

Harry was still getting used to this new way of using magic. He was so connected to it and his magic was something to new to it. Using spells was slower when it moved along the mist. But there were no ripples. Harry grinned happily. Things were finally beginning to make sense.

He had decided that tonight he would need to scrub himself clean and also clean his clothes or rather just his shirt. He would just vanish the rest. He also missed real clothes that didn't just disappear or change colors randomly.

Harry had transfigured himself a bathtub inside his tent and filled it with hot water. He had super luxus extra soft towels waiting for him when he was done. It all felt so homey. Here he had familiar magical things surrounding him. He could almost believe Grimmault place was awaiting on the other side of the walls.

Harry frowned, he couldn't really tell if these bouts of homesickness were really him or happened because he was somehow younger. He noticed he acted differently most of the time, reminding himself of time before Hogwarts. It was not good.

He enjoyed scrubbing his head with soap and the dived under the water. It was heavenly. Cleaning charms were nothing compared to this.

He came out the bath squeaky clean and wrapped the huge soft towels around him. He tiptoed to sit in front of the fire and drink some hot cocoa. Chocolate always made him feel better.

He had tried to make his clothes as presentable as he could. Considering it might be tomorrow that he got to meet other people.

His shirt was now a bit smaller, fitting him better. Or that was what he hoped. He had also changed it to dark blue. He had transfigured himself a leather belt from a twig and also leather boots. He was no expert on fashion but hopefully he wouldn't look like a clown. He had also brand new dark brown trousers. All in child sizes. He had wondered if he should appear as an adult but it would be risky considering he would get shorter and shorter by the hour.

It might be hard to explain why a child was wandering around here in the wild but it wasn't long till the first small village. He could just say that he was from one of those.

Harry went to bed, happily dreaming of possibilities of tomorrow.

~o~

A/n. I hope it shows that this chapter came together much more smoothly than the last one. I decided to upload this as well, considering the last one was so… different.

Someone asked me if I could do an interlude with the elves… I was thinking about the same thing but honestly, I feel a bit daunted by them. I'll try to see what I can do. In any case, we will see some elves in a few chapters.

I'll probably update fast again. I'm enjoying it while it lasts