The moon was high overhead in the sky and the stars glittered with a twinkling luminosity that shined upon the leaves of the Forbidden Forest. Albus' dark cloak covered him completely as he stepped quickly over the springy grass. He looked towards Hagrid's shack and anxiously hoped that he couldn't be spotted at all, by ill or by good.

As he came into the safe haven of the thick evergreens Albus discarded his hood and listened intently.

"Singing," he whispered.

Albus turned toward the voices and sure enough there was the woodelves, singing, dancing, and being the merry folk that they are. Their torches outlined the circle of their festival and gave enough light to make the silvers in their garments to glisten. Their speech was melodious and made Albus fall into the language that was Sindarin.

"Mae govannen Mithrandir," a voice said from the treetops. It was a masculine voice, but unlike any other male voice it was quite compelling maybe even unsettling.

Albus looked around, but only the laughing and singing of the elves in the distance could be heard, but there was one pine that was disturbing. Dumbledore glanced upward into the dark cluster of leaves and sure enough the guard, Galdor, was perched in a branch from the nearby pine. Spread contentedly on the limb, staring at him with bright eyes and grinning.

"Well," the elf said apathetically, "after fifteen years of disregarding the elven race you think it's perfectly all right to just walk back and say hello?"

Galdor glared at him sternly, Albus didn't know if the elf was serious or not. Surely fifteen years hasn't been that long in elvish standards.

"Galdor-" Albus began.

Galdor interrupted by giving Albus a warm laugh, "Do not worry my friend. It was pure jest, forgive me," but his face turned from joyous to serious, "but a hello would be nice."

"Mae govannen Galdor," Dumbledore laughed, "It suppose it has been too long."

"Far too long," he said as he hopped down the branch lightly and onto the forest floor, "I thought you would stay with the mortals until the end of days, and not even dare venture to the Slytherin's realm, but here you are." A grin played on the elf's fair face. Galdor looked quite young, only about twenty. His tall posture and long hair indeed hid an elf of one hundred years.

"Come," he declared, "you must join our merriment."

Galdor led Albus to the glade of the blissful woodelves unnoticed, except by one.

"Dear Olorin! Is it you?" A particular elf maid said.

"Why yes, child, it is," Albus looked at the maiden intently and surprise overcame his face, "Vanimarie? Well, you are no longer a child dear!" Albus laughed.

"Indeed not Mithrandir," she said, "I turned fifty about four years ago, I am no longer a child." Vanimarie's eyes drifted to Galdor and back to Albus, changing the subject, "You never bothered to visit or dance with us. I was believing you had forgotten the way to our woods."  She teased.

"I don't think dear Gandalf would ever forget the way to Lothlorien," Galdor looked down at Vanimarie and smiled. "I think, his place his here." he said honestly.

"I don't want to keep you away from the merriment milord Galdor," She said after a long pause of silence. Her eyes were led to Galdor for a second time, she gave a quick curtsey and a blush rose a bit in her cheeks. "I must retreat to my lady Celebriel and tell her you're here Olorin."

Gandalf gave her a smile, which she returned and gave one last meaningful glance at Galdor and departed.

Albus gave Galdor a wryly grin. "She has grown into a fine young lady." Dumbledore said grinning.

Galdor nodded, his eyes bright and keen.

"Gandalf?"

Albus turned around to find two young elflings running toward him. Unlike most Slytherin elves they had dark hair and brown eyes, much like the elves of the north.

"We thought you were dead Mithrandir!" The first boy said with a grin.

 "I'm afraid I'm still quite alive," Dumbledore laughed, "How are you Golasgil?"

"Fine," the boy said lazily, "Gandalf, Niphredil and I found a way into your castle." Golasgil indicated to his twin sister by his side and continued faster. "Now, we can sneak in and see you more often."

"No Golasgil," Galdor spoke sternly causing the child to jump, "No elf is to go near there, what would your mother say?"

"Ah, Sir Galdor we won't get caught," Golasgil persisted.

"No,"

"Please?"

"Do you still have the phoenix Mithrandir?" Niphredil chirped, ignoring the argument.

"Yes, Fawkes is still with me," Dumbledore smiled. "But Galdor is right, stay away from the castle."

Golasgil sighed and shrugged, "Well, then, just visit more often,"

"We like it when you come," Niphredil smiled.

"Go children!" Galdor said, "The next dance is starting and I'm sure you two don't want to miss it."

"I don't even like to dance. You're just saying that to get rid of us," The boy mumbled and went off, his sister following.

"Every elf likes to dance Golasgil, you're no different," she said after him.

Dumbledore beamed and turned to Galdor.

"They are quite a pair of trouble makers," Galdor poured a glass of dark wine for himself and set a glass for Albus.

"So, how do things fair at Gûlond, or what did you call it, Hogwarts?" Galdor asked with interest as they sat at the long table set at the side of the festival. Most of the elves were off dancing or singing, only a few lingered to chat and watch.

Albus searched for the correct words, he didn't want to stir a commotion upon the Woodland realm but he had no other way to say it.

"Surely the wizards haven't clouded your minds that much," he laughed with mock impatience as he sipped his wine, eyes searching Albus' old face with interest, "but tell dear friend. I know you have grievous news indeed, your grim appearance shows that well, but it surely cannot be that ill." Galdor was young for an elf; his heart was higher than others. He saw things much different than Dumbledore did.

"I fear my friend, that it is far worse than some can say," Albus' face turned graver.

"Trust me, friend, there are many things the elves can help you with," Galdor continued, "Trust us as you once did, tell me."

Dumbledore looked down and let the words spill out of his mouth quickly with fear and doom in every syllable, "Saruman has returned to body and is regaining strength. I am not entirely sure how but I heard that he is quickly gaining orcs further west and the Death Eaters are returning -"

Galdor held up a hand indicating he knew the rest and did not want to hear it, silence followed after. "Your words are indeed ill," Galdor looked at Albus intently and whispered, "Take council with Lord Salazar, he may have knowledge for this matter."

Galdor rose from his seat, and was in deep troubled thought. "We can only hope," Galdor mumbled, "I knew wizards could not be trusted." He cursed in his own tongue and drew his eyes back to Albus, they gleamed with anger and doubt.

"A Elbereth Gilthoniel," he sighed, "It would be best not to speak of this until our Lord finds out about it first." Galdor searched the crowds as a smile curved on his lips as he continued, "Perhaps you should just be merry, until the time being. I must get back to my watch."

"Thank you Galdor," Albus said. And yet, his heart is still high, thought Albus wearily as the young elf walked into the dark forest and dangled his quiver of arrows on his back.

The old man examined the table before him; the table laid many assorted foods and wines. He filled a cup with the wine Galdor provided earlier and let the red substance fill his glass.

"Mithrandir?"

Albus looked up and saw two guards. They weren't the common guards that Galdor was. They were guards for the Lord and Lady, tall, clad in silvery mail and deep green velvet cloaks as their pale blonde hair fell to their shoulders.

"It is good to see you," the first guard smiled. "Lord Salazar wishes your appearance in the halls Mithrandir."

Albus smiled, drained his glass, and followed the elves out of the glade and deeper into the Forbidden forest.