Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter or Labyrinth, or anything else you recognise.
A/N: I am so tired! I had an interview today for a new job and couldn't sleep last night as I was so nervous. Here is the next chapter. Not as long as I would like, but there we are. Also, I've only read it over once for errors. So apologies for that.
Thanks for all the reviews! You guys make my day so much happier!
Chapter Four
"I'll paint you mornings of gold
I'll spin you Valentine evenings
Though we're strangers till now
We're choosing the path between the stars
I'll leave my love between the stars."
23rd May 2005 – The Best Guest Room, Jareth's Castle
Jareth woke slowly, stretching his limbs tightly as he forced the last remnants of sleep from his body. His muscles protested loudly at such treatment, stiff as they were from the night before. And Oh! What a night…
He had been worried that this was too much, too soon for the young man, but Harry had laughed and reminded him that he was twenty four years old, and hardly a modest virgin. Then he proceeded to show the Goblin King just how handy his experience over the years had been. And Jareth had loved every minute of it.
Feeling movement beside him, he turned to see Harry was awake with his head propped up on one arm, looking down into his eyes. Unaccustomed emotions welled up in his chest, things he had not felt for a very long time. His heart, which he had long believed had turned to ice, was beginning to thaw. It was both a heady and disturbing feeling, and by the Stars! He was blushing!
"What's this? The Almighty Powerful Goblin King is blushing? All sweet and bashful like a young maiden plucked in early spring." Harry's mouth moved closer to the other man's ear, and his lips lightly brushed the soft lobe. "The flush looks good on your skin, Your Majesty. Shall I check and see just how far down it goes?" He murmured, nuzzling his face in the junction between Jareth's neck and shoulder, all the while his hand moving lower, lower and lower. Until…
"Unghh…Harry…" Jareth groaned, memories of the night before flashing through his mind and his body responding accordingly. This wasn't the way it was meant to be, was it? He was the King, the strong one, surely he should be the one doing the teasing, and the stroking, and the…Oh!
"Don't stop…please…don't stop…"
☼
Much later, and at a much more decent time to be up and about, the pair were just that – up and about. The Kingdom would not run itself, and while Jareth would like nothing better than to lounge around in bed all day with Harry, he simply had things he must see to. So, he had given the man the run of the castle and left him to his own devices, with one warning: not to go into the Labyrinth just yet. He promised to teach Harry all its secrets, but right now, it was just too dangerous.
Since that mortal had run the Labyrinth all those years ago, it had become even more wild and unmanageable. Jareth had lost interest in it after she had refused him and he had been freed from the compulsion laid on him by the book. At first he'd been relieved; relieved that he was not now tied to someone who wasn't his intended. He could have married Sarah Williams and been none the wiser until after the wedding, and then where would his Kingdom be?
That raised an important question, Jareth decided, seated at his desk reading through more mind numbing boring petitions and correspondence. How did that mortal get hold of the book when it was never intended for her in the first place? And what made her think it was about her? It had always been about Elessar.
Elessar.
Was it Harry? Was Harry him? After last night, and this morning, he was beginning to think so. No! More than that, he was beginning to hope so. Because after only one night and one morning in his arms, Jareth wasn't sure he wanted to let him go.
And if he wasn't his Elessar, then he couldn't be his Harry either.
☼
"Who be you, and what be you doin' runnin' round his place?"
Harry was momentarily startled by the rough voice, so like Hagrid that it took him back to his days at Hogwarts, and he felt a pang in his chest. A pang for what might have been, had his friends and the rest of the world not found him to be such a disappointment. Pushing that away for a moment, and fluttering his wings without noticing it, he turned to face the one who addressed him.
It, or he, was a dwarf. Gnarled and slightly dirty looking, he had a cranky expression and various trinkets dangling from a chain attached to his waist. Harry wondered if he was truly annoyed or if he just looked like that all the time. Though, judging from the tone of his voice, he just seemed to not like people. Or maybe it was elves? Because he was an elf now, right? An Avariel. That's what Jareth had said.
Suddenly overcome everything that had happened since he'd picked up that book, Harry abruptly sank to the ground, and stared.
"Now then, you, see, I didn' mean fer you to be fallin' down an' such." The dwarf said, wringing his hands a little and looking around warily, as if he expected something to pop out at him.
"S'alright." Harry murmured. "It's just; I don't know who I am. Well, not really. See, I thought I was one thing, and then I'm told I'm something else. Then when I get sorta used to that, they take that away. Then I'm something new. And now, when I got used to that as well, poof! I'm something different again." He paused and the dwarf looked at him funny. Harry didn't really pay any attention though, since he was pretty much thinking out loud and seemed to have forgotten the fellow was there at all.
"Right then." The dwarf said, when it appeared no other strange ramblings would be forthcoming from the bizarre elf in front of him. Not knowing what else to do, he took a step closer and cautiously extended a hand. "Name's Hoggle." He said, and waited.
"Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you." The elf said with a smile, shaking his hand with gusto.
"Odd name fer an elf." Hoggle muttered.
14th October, 2003 – PDSAPetAidHospital Salisbury
"I must say I'm surprised. Usually the graduates only want to start up their own practices or sign on to established surgeries. You realised the pay here will be substantially less than what you could get in private practice?"
Harry was unperturbed at this. The last thing he wanted was to make more money. He was already rich beyond his wildest imaginings. Not that he could touch any of it, of course. But that just made him want this job even more. All his money had ever got for him, was trouble.
He had graduated with a first in a five year BVetMed course at the Royal Veterinary College - part of the University of London. It had been difficult, that was for sure. But it was great to have such a foundation in theory and then a lot of hands-on experience, guided by people who were experts in their field. Most of the people on his course had secured lucrative positions, but his job hunting, had led him here: to the PDSA.
The PDSA was a charity founded in 1917, and was coming up to ninety years of caring for sick animals. What was so important about it, was that the veterinary services were free. This meant that the poorest people, who had the most trouble forking out for vet fees, could get help for their pets when they needed it, and fewer animals had to suffer unnecessarily.
To Harry, it felt like the right thing to do, not just for the animals, but for him too. Lately he had been feeling the need to remind himself that the things his former friends had said about him, weren't true.
He wasn't selfish, or evil, money grabbing or dark. He was a nice, normal, average guy, who happened to have a lot thrust on him by Fate, and the wizarding world. There wasn't much more to it than that. So, despite the incredulity of some of the more mercenary blokes on his course, he was going to work here, for a fraction of the salary most of them would be on. Because he wanted to, and by God, because it made him feel good about himself – something which was getting to be a bit rare these days. Degree notwithstanding of course.
"I must say, it's quite a coup for us, to get someone from the RVC. But don't think that means you won't be getting your hands dirty!" The nurse who was showing him round said firmly. Harry smiled disarmingly.
"Wouldn't dream of it." He replied.
30th August, 1996 – Diagon Alley, London
"Hey! Watch out!" Harry shouted, as people carelessly walked past the huddled creature on the ground. He wasn't really sure what it was yet, but it was a someone, thus it did not deserve all the wizards and witches which kept stumbling over it, and not even bothering to check and see what it was, or whether it needed help.
He made his way swiftly over the figure wrapped in bloodied rags, and snarled at the passers by who stopped to watch him. So now they were interested, but not before? What was it about the Wizarding world which made them appear so oblivious to the plight of anyone other than themselves? Sometimes, he believed they had an even more narrow world view than the Nazis.
He realised he was being rather unfair, but having just had to listen to a truck load of vicious garbage from his potions professor – before being allowed to come here and do his shopping – he wasn't feeling all that positive about his fellow witches and wizards.
Just how did Dumbledore manage to keep the bastard employed at the school anyway? Oh, he knew he had his reasons, Merlin only knew Harry had to listen to those reasons again, and again, as if they were some kind of justification for Snape behaving like a petulant child and throwing all the toys out of his pram on a disturbingly regualr basis.
From the old man's point of view, it was down to Harry to act mature, it was Harry who would have to compromise, never mind that Snape was the adult and so should be the one to behave thusly. No, it seemed that everyone thought he was the one who should change his behaviour.
He silently believed that he could not be the only one who had been victimised and bullied by the greasy bastard over the years, and some parents must have written to Dumbledore or McGonagall to complain. So why was the git still working there?
Perhaps a few well chosen Pensieve memories sent to the school board at just the right time, with a query into whether this was the standard of teaching that Hogwarts encouraged, would prove fruitful? Even if all Snape ended up with was a good telling off it would be worth it. But no, Harry sighed to himself, he had the war and all that bollocks to think about first. Maybe if he survived? Yeah, that thought warmed his heart no end.
Crouching over the huddled form, he slowly peeled back the rag to expose whatever it was, and gasped in surprise. It was a goblin! And he was in pretty bad shape too!
Harry searched his pockets frantically for a healing potion, and then stopped. What if it was poisonous to the goblin? He didn't know anything about their physiology. He hastily looked around and spotted the Gringotts sign. Yes! They would know what to do! But should he move him? Would that be worse than just leaving him there and coming back with help? He paused, trying to think of what would be best.
"What are you fussing over? It's just a goblin." Some old wizard grumbled, and Harry glared at him.
"He's not just a goblin, he's a person. And he's hurt. I was just debating whether or not to move him, but I can see now it would be much worse to leave him here, if the likes of you are nosing around." Harry said, a tad nastily, but as with earlier, he really wasn't feeling all that in harmony with his fellow wizards right now.
Picking the fellow up as gently as possible, Harry carried him towards the bank, wrapping him in his cloak, for despite it being August, it was rather a cold day.
When he got through the main doors, he began shouting, not caring one whit about the customers or their business.
"Help! Someone help me here! I have an injured goblin who requires immediate attention!" Harry yelled, hoping he wasn't upsetting the poor fellow. But other than a slight shift, he showed no signs of further deterioration.
Four goblins came running at his cry, and hurriedly tried to relieve Harry of his precious burden.
"No, I think it's better not to jostle him. He seems OK where he is for now. Show me where I should take him." He ordered, shocking the goblins who had come to meet him, and most of the customers who were within earshot as well.
He followed the Gringotts employees through a side door and down various passageways, until they reached a room that must be some kind of infirmary. He identified it by its smell, since all hospitals seem to smell the same, regardless of where they are or who runs them. After rather a lot of fussing, he deposited the wounded fellow on a bed, and backed away so they could work on him. Minutes later he was ushered out with some of the goblins who had led him there, and told to wait.
Much as he might want to, he couldn't wait however, as he only had an hour before he was due to meet the Order. Making his apologies, he was taken back to the main hall by a rather familiar face.
"Griphook?" He questioned, and was rewarded with the usual toothy smile.
"I am honoured Mr Potter, that you remember me. And you honour us by carrying one of our own in your arms like he was your equal." Griphook said, and Harry frowned.
"Like he was my equal? What do you mean? Of course he's my equal! You're no less of a person than I am, you're just...different. No better or worse. Who is he anyway? Do you know how he was hurt? I'm sorry I didn't give him any potions or anything, but I was worried they might be toxic. I know so little of your people." He confessed, frustrated with his lack of knowledge.
"You are full of surprises Mr Potter. There are not many who would share your beliefs, but it makes me glad that you feel that way. As for that goblin, he is Galbak, son of Ragnok – the Head Goblin. A rather reckless youth I am afraid. He was attacked while on some jaunt of his, and we despaired of ever seeing him again. You have done us a great service, Mr Potter. I am sure that after this, Ragnok will name you a Goblin Friend – for that is what you are." Griphook stopped briefly to bow to the astonished wizard, and, not knowing what else to do, Harry bowed back.
24th May, 2005 – The Kind and Queen's Suite, their Palace, Faenya-Dail.
"Enaberia! Please! Be reasonable! We must talk about this first – this is not the time to be making rash decisions!" Dellandario pleaded with his wife, but to no avail. She had seen this visitor of Jareth's in the sphere he had sent, and she was convinced it was their lost Elessar. Regardless of the fact that that was practically impossible, she had made up her mind. And now, she was packing various items and was intending to make for Jareth's castle with all due haste.
It wasn't like he didn't believer her. Oh! How he wanted to believe it was true! His baby son, alive! After so many years of searching…
He had never forgotten that day, that terrible day when his youngest child was stolen from them. His whole Kingdom had grieved along with him and his family. But it had cut Enaberia to the quick, more than anyone else. She had carried him, nursed him – he had been born of her body. Such separation was so very damaging to the Avariel, especially when it was separating a parent from their child. Children were so few, and so sacred amongst their people, that every single one was cherished.
It had taken time, a long, long time, for them to come to terms with what they had lost. But they could not allow themselves to drown in their sorrow, for they had two other children to care for, two children who missed their brother very much, though he had only been with them for such a short time.
Dellandario was immensely proud of his Talemario and Caredessi. They were wonderful people, and Talemario would be a great leader when the time came.
He paused, glancing at his wife as she continued to pack with a fierce determination not to be swayed from her chosen course. Perhaps the time for Talemario to take the reins had come? At least, temporarily. Who knew how long they might be detained with the Goblin King?
"Dearest…" He began, not at all pleased with the slight flinch of her shoulders. "Enaberia, I agree, we must go. Talemario can take care of things here for us. You were right. We have to know, if it is truly him, we have to know and understand. And we have to help him learn who he really is, show him his family and tell him how much we love him. I do worry that we are getting our hopes up for nothing, but you are right. It must be done." He admitted quietly, and the Queen slumped in relief.
"Caredessi and Elalaeryn should accompany us." Enaberia said softly, and her husband nodded.
"I will assemble an escort. Pray to the Winds. If they are amenable, we will be there by nightfall."