Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth or anything else you recognise.

A/N: This is the re-edited version of the original. Just so minor changes. Thanks to SeulWolfe for beta-reading, and thanks to everyone who reviewed.

Chapter Nine

"I can bear it no longer! Goblin King! Goblin King! Wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!"

30th May, 2005 - The Morning Room, Malfoy Manor

Draco Malfoy was sitting quietly at the ornately laid out breakfast table, absently flicking though his post. Laying aside the usual invitations and trite letters of false friendship with an eloquent sigh, he reached for the 'Daily Prophet'. The front page held the glaring headline, 'Harry Potter: Missing'. Snorting into his coffee, he scanned it briefly.

It was full of the usual rants of the ill-educated, and speculated feverishly on what plans the Defeater of Voldemort might be making in secret. Truthfully, he could not find any mentions of concern over his possible plight, just condemnation. No change there then.

"Sensationalist rubbish." He muttered to himself, before turning the page. Close to the Quidditch section, he found a small article which made him gasp in surprise: "Ministry to pass law requiring all wizards and witches with creature blood to register."

This was definitely not good.

30th May, 2005 - Lucius Malfoy's Bedroom, Malfoy Manor

Draco closed the door quietly behind him as he entered his father's bedroom. His since he was a child, this room, which was once a safe haven from his horrible shrew of a wife, had become his sickroom.

Though he had tried to conceal it for many months, the time came when Lucius Malfoy could no longer hide his condition from his son. Despite a blazing row, Draco had eventually got his way and was allowed to summon the family healer. Discretion was the name of the game when it came to dealing with the Malfoy family, and their healer was paid handsomely for his silence. Doctor - patient confidentiality was not as sacred in the wizard world as it was in the muggle.

The diagnosis was not an easy one, but the cause of his father's illness was eventually found. With the help of long time family friend, Severus Snape, it was discovered that the erstwhile Mrs Malfoy, now deceased, had administered a potion to Lucius to force him to marry her. The reason she had done this, was because of a fact not generally known.

The Malfoys were veela.

Only the men, that was. For some reason, the veela strain bred true in every male in the Malfoy line, and their wives always gave birth to sons. Various Malfoy lords had considered the problem over the years, and decided that it was most likely put in place by some fore thinking ancestor of theirs.

Veela, have only one mate. One mate who will make them happy for the rest of their lives, and who they will strive with every fibre of their being to please and care for. Narcissa Black had her eyes on the Malfoy fortune, and at a young age, had decided she liked the idea of being a veela's mate. When she found out about the Malfoy heir's veela status, purely by accident, she began to scheme.

She devised a potion to fool the veela into thinking she was its mate. It was successful. What she didn't know, was that she had also administered a poison. A very slow-acting, but nonetheless lethal concoction. Every cell in his body was dependent on their bond. While she lived, her presence could delay its effects. But now she was dead, he was beginning to break down. Only one thing could save him - a bond with his true mate.

But since his true mate had died in the Department of Mysteries nearly nine years ago, all hope was gone.

"Father?" Draco called softly as he approached the figure in the bed.

A mere shadow of his former self, Lucius turned slowly to face his son. Wincing inwardly at the sight of his father's emaciated body, Draco adopted a bright smile and made himself comfortable on the bed. Placing the paper on the bedside table for the moment, Draco helped his father manoeuvre himself until he was half lying across his lap, his head pillowed against his son's chest.

"I'm afraid there isn't anything very interesting in the Prophet this morning. Potter has gone and lost himself, and the whole world is a-twitter about it. Personally, I hope he is about to launch his terror campaign on the rest of the world. We could do with a good laugh these days, and one can only imagine how un-terrifying his minions would be. There's an interesting editorial on what's the matter with English Quidditch." Draco went on to read said editorial to his father, his voice soft and soothing, one hand continually running through his long, white blond hair. Sadly, it was not as beautiful as it once was, and every now and then, Draco would draw his hand through his father's hair only to have clumps of it come away in his hand.

It was breaking his heart to watch his father, his hero, slowly deteriorate.

After his mother died in the war which ended Voldemort, they had four glorious years where father and son discovered the real people behind their masks and formed a bond that went deeper than any others they'd had in their lives. Then, gradually, as the years went on, the cracks in Lucius' health began to show, and for the last two years, he had been confined to this house, and this bed. He hadn't protested when his father insisted on moving back into the room he had lived in as a child, and away from the bed he'd shared with that bitch. All things considered, it was the least he could do.

"Draco! We must do something - you cannot let them know about your heritage!" Lucius scratchy voice intruded on Draco's introspection, and he looked down to see he had left the paper open on the page about the creature registration. "You cannot let them control you! Not like..."

"Sssh... don't strain yourself, Father. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this myself. I have a habit of trying to coddle you, I know. But can you blame me? Still, never mind. What do you suggest then?" He asked.

Lucius paused to gather himself. It wasn't like he couldn't read for himself, or talk for himself, but these things left him immensely tired. He sometimes wished that the end would just come, as he lay prone in his Manor, unable to move some days, and unable to experience life firsthand any more. He could not allow the chance that the Ministry would find out about their veela blood, and force a mating for Draco the way Narcissa did for him.

"Go to the library. In the far corner, against the wall..."

30th May, 2005 - Jareth's Throne Room, The Castle Beyond the Goblin City

Silence.

And then: "What the bloody hell is Black doing here?"

Ah, so Severus Snape's behaviour had reverted to type. Remus scowled at him briefly, before turning back to face his friend. The friend he had thought was long since dead.

"You - you've been here? With these people? And let us think you were dead? Sirius, I don't understand!" Remus visibly deflated, a confused and hurt frown marring his face. Without even thinking, Severus did something wholly out of character - he reached out an arm and pulled the werewolf to his side. Remus turned to face his sometime lover, needing whatever comfort he was offering.

"It's not like that Remus! I didn't even know where I was, or how long I had been away, until recently. Please don't think I just abandoned you all, I didn't! I promise! I didn't!" Desperation tinged Sirius' voice as he stepped forwards from behind Harry's throne.

"Wah-Wha...Well, what happened? I mean, how are you here? And where is here anyway?!? And... is it even you? You might just be some kind of impostor, or, or something, or... Christ!" Remus was running his hands through his hair agitatedly, and Severus wasn't having much luck in trying to calm him. Possibly because he was pretty confused and angry himself. His feelings were most likely feeding Lupin's through their bond.

Sirius was only a few feet away, and he seemed at a loss as what to do as well. Sparing a glance for the other people in the room, he noticed that most of them were silent. Silent, and impassive. They were simply watching. All except for the winged, elvish looking creature next to the one who Ragnok had named as the King.

That one appeared to be fighting between staying in his seat and leaping up to intervene. He must have noticed Severus' scrutiny, for he caught his eye, and maintaining the contact, he leaned towards the King to whisper something. He received a nod in the affirmative, and stood. Most of the other people in the room turned their attention to him, and Snape could detect the obvious reverence in their gazes.

The creature's wings spread and seemed to shake themselves out, before tucking back behind him. Almost as if he was bracing himself. "Interesting." Thought Severus. Without really understanding why, he waited calmly and allowed the creature, or man, or elf, or whatever, to approach and lay hands on Remus, unchallenged. Not only did he strike him as entirely unthreatening, there was also an aura of calm and peace which radiated outwards from him, and soothed the part of himself which was tied to Remus' wolf.

Though he did not transform, he had taken on some of wolfish qualities since he had joined with the werewolf so long ago. When they were so young. He often scolded himself and his lover for their foolishness, particularly in his more maudlin moments, for forming such a life-changing bond when they were too young to understand it.

But at the same time, he took heart in the fact that he was never truly alone. Though it was rather small, he was part of a pack. And that was something which would be with him until the day he died. Such a thought gave him solace, when it felt like the world was turning its back on him. Which it seemed to do more often than not.

Shaking himself from his brooding, he focused back on his mate, and the emotions now flowing smoothly through the link. In fact, it felt stronger than it had done in some time, and he realised it was because of something the winged man had done.

Physically, Remus was looking a little less tired, and overwrought. His frantic questioning of a few moments ago was evidently forgotten. At least, for the time being.

"Gentlemen, the King has allowed me to explain, so please listen closely. You are not on Earth as you know it any longer. This is the Underground. It exists in a time and space linked to the Earth, but it is not governed by the Earth or its people. My Liege, King Jareth, is ruler here. There are many gateways from your world to here, and Sirius fell through one of those. It was not discovered until a few days ago, and he has been in a kind of prison until then. Please do not treat him harshly for circumstances beyond his control." The voice was familiar, but it had a melodic quality to it which raised the spirit of the listener.

Remus and Severus found themselves agreeing before they even realised it.

"I think perhaps this reunion should take place in less formal surroundings." Harry said, not wanting to do the big reveal in front of so many of his people. "If My Liege agrees, we can move elsewhere?" He suggested, looking back to Jareth with a plea in his eyes.

A smile answered him, and he smiled in return. Jareth stood and gestured to an underling, who bowed and then scurried out of the room.

"A sterling idea, Elessar." He said, using Harry's birth name so as not to divulge his secret sooner than he would wish to. Though, thinking about it, the Goblin King realised that delaying it a few minutes probably would not make it any easier. But going along with Harry's wishes, and letting him handle this his way, instead of merely dictating to himAs both King and lover, he needs must walk a fine line. "Ragnok, perhaps we should reconvene in your usual suite. Elessar and I have some small, but pressing matters to attend to. No doubt you are tired from your journey and would like to refresh yourselves, yes?" Jareth asked, raising an eyebrow.

Not one to miss a trick, Ragnok nodded and started directing his people. "An excellent idea, Your Majesty. We shall see you in, say, an hour?" He suggested, and the King signalled his assent.

30th May, 2005 - Jareth's Bedroom, The Castle Beyond the Goblin City

Jareth watched as Harry began circling the room again, and sighed audibly. He supposed it was not such a bad way for him to express his agitation, but it was rather frustrating to watch.

"Does this endless wandering serve to soothe your frazzled nerves, melisse? Or does it simply help you to work yourself into a worse state of mind?" He asked, partly curious and partly in an effort to stop the restless display. It worked, as Harry turned abruptly with a puzzled frown.

"What did you just say?" He questioned, though not angrily. Jareth sighed again.

"I asked you if your circling..."

"No, not that. What was that word, melisse? It feels as if I should know what that means." Harry said, the lines of his face taut with concentration. After a moment, he gave up and shrugged.

"Oh, as well you should. It is elvish, your native tongue. I learned it long ago, when I was but a boy. It is a beautiful language, and I thought it would be nice to teach you, if you would like. 'Melisse', means, 'my lover'." Jareth replied, his explanation earning him a bright and excited smile in return.

"Why I, yes! That would be wonderful. Wow! I didn't even think of that. Caredessi said she would help with flying and things. But I hadn't - ah - I'm babbling. How shall we begin?" He demanded eagerly, perching on the edge of the bed and presenting his lover with a suitably attentive expression on his face.

The Goblin King couldn't help himself, he smiled, his slow burn, yet slightly sly smile and stepped closer.

"How about we try something, a little different, hmm?" He couldn't stop himself from letting a not-so-subtle hint of seduction into his voice. His Harry was offering far too tempting a picture sitting where he was, and looking at him the way he was.

Flushing slightly, and not feeling at all ashamed about it, Harry cocked his head to the side and considered his King. "Well now, what do you suggest, my liege?" He asked, eyes wide, appearing far more innocent that he really was.

"How about you say something in the common tongue and I will translate it into elvish for you?"

Harry paused to consider it, before nodding. Jareth smiled and the former wizard took the opportunity to study his fae lover. There was a lightness about his eyes that had not been there when they had first met. He knew he could claim no small part of bringing that about, and it both humbled and delighted him when he thought of it. He decided to take a leap of faith. Harry stood and placed his hands on either side of Jareth's neck and looked him right in the eyes.

"I love you."

The King's sharp intake of breath was almost deafening in the silent room, but he did not break the other man's gaze.

"Amin mela lle" He replied, and Harry's grin was in danger of splitting his face. He did not stop there however.

"Kiss me." Jareth smirked and pulled his prince closer.

"Miqula en amin" He said, pressing his lips against the elf's and drawing him in for a kiss that was soft and slow, yet had a power and meaning behind it that rocked Harry to his very foundations. Afterwards, breathless, his forehead resting against the King's, he spoke again.

"Make love to me."

"Karenela en amin."

Sometime later, Harry awoke, still securely tucked in his husband-to-be's arms. He was tired, but happy. He supposed there wasn't much more from life that one could ask for. Despite having only known the man for just over a week, he was content, and sure in his feelings. Yes, right now, he was happy.

And then he remembered the people they had to see.

The explanations they would want, and the drudging up of memories he did not care to relive. There would also be the endless questions. Most likely they would be the questions he himself needed answers to - answers he just didn't have. He sighed, and burrowed a little closer into Jareth's chest.

"What is it a'mael" He heard the King's voice rumble in his chest, still rough with sleep. Harry wasn't sure what the endearment meant, but he liked the sound of it.

"Just... those people from the past. I was sort of hoping none of them would intrude on me here. On us. I mean, Sirius doesn't count, because he wasn't there when... well you know. I really don't feel the need to have some big reckoning with them, with any of them. And I don't like the direction I think all this could be heading in. Do you understand what I mean? I don't think I'm expressing myself very articulately!" Harry twisted his head so he could look up into Jareth's face. Said face was smiling softly and he felt reassured at the sight.

"I do know what you are trying to say, and believe me, I would like nothing better than to tell you that everything will work itself out, and you will be spared more of the heartache you've already suffered in your short life. But that would not be true, and it would be unfair to you. So, I will simply say this: no matter what happens, I will always be here for you. You are 'Alasse'amin' My joy." Seeing the disbelief in his young lover's face, and knowing where this lack of self worth originated from, he sat up and prepared to drive his point home.

Holding his prince's shoulders he fixed him with a determined look.

"Jareth..." Harry began, but the King interrupted him.

"No, listen. Harry, just now, I had a dream. I dreamt of you. You were wandering through ash and debris, yet everywhere your feet touched, beautiful blossoms sprouted and grew. Soon the char and detritus disappeared and all around was renewed and alive once more. Harry, you were walking through my heart." Jareth searched the other man's gaze desperately, for despite his earlier declaration, he needed to know now, if his mate loved him.

"I - that was - so beautiful, I..." His voiced faltered and he yanked the fae in front of him into his arms, and kissed him wildly, frantically. When he paused, he whispered softly: "Amin mela lle."

30th May, 2005 - The Living Room, Ragnok's Usual Suite

Each person seated in the large, airy room had their own ideas about all the other people seated in the large, airy room. Ragnok's usual suite was on one of the higher levels of the castle, and faced away from the entrance. The castle was built on top of a hill, the back end of which dropped away into a steep cliff. As such, the windows were larger and let in a lot more light than the ones on the front of the building, which were designed with a mind to defending the place. Not that it needed to be defended in the traditional manner, considering who the owner was, but even the fae were not eternal and the castle was not built by them originally.

Remus was agog at all the new sights and sounds and faces. He spent most of the last hour with Sirius, trying to cram in as much of the last nine years of each other's personal histories. Severus had been mainly silent since his initial reaction to the revelation of Sirius being alive. He'd been sizing up the people they'd encountered since they arrived, and found himself fascinated by the difference between the two races of goblins. He hadn't tried very hard to have any conversations with any of the local goblins, but observing them for the last hour or so had been rather amusing.

The various elves he had seen around were slightly disconcerting however. The way they stared at people, almost as if they weren't really seeing them, could be just a tad unnerving. He speculated that this was the way they treated outsiders, and until they were accepted and trusted, they would be kept at a distance. This was something he could appreciate, being who he was, and so he wasn't offended by it. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of either the King of this strange place, nor the particular elf who had cut in earlier during the almost-argument between the two marauders. But that was to be expected, considering he had said they had things to attend to.

Feeling restless, Severus rose from his chair and made his way over to one of the windows. He gazed out idly for a moment, before his attention was drawn to a group of goblin children playing some kind of game in the gardens below. He was a little too high up to see clearly, but they appeared to be playing something akin to a muggle game of rounders! Of all things!

The sound of the door opening and a sharp signal from Remus had him back in his chair, his usual stony expression firmly in place. He pointedly ignored the mangy mutt sitting on the other side of his on-off-and-on-again lover, and waited for whatever was to come.

Entering the room and coming face to face with his former potions professor was more daunting than Harry cared to admit. It was almost as if he represented the life which was stolen from him, not that he had personally played any part in what had been done to him. In fact he had been conspicuously absent during most of the proceedings. Even so, he suddenly felt like his eleven year old self, the self that was thrust into a new world he knew nothing about, and yet everyone expected him to shine.

At least Snape had disabused him of that notion.

A gentle touch to the small of his back reminded him just where he was, and who he was with, and he turned to greet the amused look in his beloved's eyes. Steeling himself for the inevitable histrionics, he squared his shoulders and faced the room once more.

"Because there are so many different things going on beneath the surface of this situation, my liege here has suggested that we all reveal what we know and then go from there. Do you agree?" Harry asked, looking between the faces of the people in the room. He received supporting smiles from his mother and sister, and a silent nod from his brother in law. His father stood and moved to stand next to him.

Placing a hand on his son's shoulder, Dellandario made his opinion known. "Son, I agree. We need to be honest with each other if we wish to form any kind of co-operation. Would you like to tell them, or shall I?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged. "Why not? Go ahead, father." He replied, noticing the unreadable expression on Sirius' face. He had had a few days to get used to the idea of Harry not being James' biological son, but it must still seem a bit strange to him. He offered a hopeful smile and his godfather sent back a cheeky grin. Clearly, he was looking forward to a certain person's reaction to the news.

"As some of you may already know, this is my son, Elessar, Prince of Faenya-Dail. I am King Dellandario, ruler of the Avariel. As you can probably see, we are winged elves. Our ancestors fled to this land when we were being hunted for sport and slavery. King Jareth here, offered us his protection and helped us build our city state of Faenya-Dail. Elessar is the youngest of my children, born over two hundred of your earth years ago. He was kidnapped when he was still a babe and held by some of your wizards." Dellandario fairly spat the word 'wizards', apparently not being in a forgiving type mood.

He went on. "He was returned to us recently by our liege, Jareth, having been used as a tool in your human wars and then discarded. We are overjoyed to have him back, but let it be known that we will not suffer any further attempts to abuse his person, and will meet any threat with the appropriate force." The elven King was breathing heavily by the end of his speech and none present doubted the truth of his words.

Harry placed a hand on his father's arm, and Dellandario responded by grasping his youngest son's hand tightly. Harry looked at his two former professors searchingly for a moment, before speaking. "I am Elessar Devoryn, but you knew me as Harry Potter."

There was silence for a moment, and then a solid thunk-thunk-thunk sound permeated the room, as Snape began banging his head on the windowsill behind him.

Remus was flabbergasted, but after glancing briefly at Harry in shock, he turned his attention to the potions professor who seemed to be bent on bashing his own head in. He was muttering away to himself vehemently, and Remus could only catch a few words.

"... Cursed!... Blasted brat!... Can't get away!... Alien world!"

Remus managed to stop him from banging his head, but only by holding his forehead in a vice like grip. "I - Um, it looks like Severus is going to need a moment or two. I think I will as well. Are you - are you really Harry?" He asked, his voice wavering slightly.

Harry's heart strings were pulled, but instead of rushing over, he steeled himself remembering how neither of them did anything when his magic was stolen, and how he hadn't heard from Remus in years. True, he had helped him that one time in the Burrow...

"Yes, I was him. At least, I was made out to be him, but I never truly was, inside. Professor Snape, you may have hated me as a child, you may have hated James Potter, but I was never who you thought me to be. I would be willing to begin again, anew, with both of you, if you are willing to explain something to me." Harry crossed his arms, and looked down at them with a firm stare.

Snape had given up trying to get control of his head away from the werewolf, but Remus was still holding on distractedly. He frowned at his former student.

"What is it you want us to explain, H - Elessar?" He asked, with a certain trepidation.

"Why did you abandon me?"

"Ah, now there's a question. And one without a simple answer. Severus and I, well to differing degrees, we have been ensorcelled. It's and old fashion term, but it comes the closest to explaining what has been happening in our lives. I really don't think we have the time to go into details now, nor do I wish to. However, I will explain this: we didn't abandon you willingly. Both of us have been marked in a similar way to the way Voldemort marks his followers. And it's only been in the last week that we have been able to scramble free. That is why we are here." Remus finished with a broken look, somewhere between misery and bitterness. Snape just looked pissed off, as was his norm.

"I - It never occurred to me that he would - I - who am I kidding? Of course he would! It only makes more sense now. After all, if he can set me up to be his scapegoat in a war which is nothing to do to me, then he could quite happily steal the free will of a few other people. I am going to need more than that though, and soon. For now, may I see the marks, if you still have them?" Harry asked, and the two men stared at him for a long moment.

"Very well." Replied Severus, and after a slight pause, Remus nodded too.

Both of them felt a little uncomfortable taking off their robes in company, but in short order they exposed the tattoos which were now deactivated, but still marred their skin. Before either of them had time to react, Harry placed a hand over each one and concentrated. A blue glow appeared around his fingers, and after a few seconds, when he removed his hand, the marks were gone. All that remained was smooth, unblemished skin.

Without asking or being asked, Harry tugged up the sleeve of Severus' shirt, and did the same to the Dark Mark. When he had finished, he looked up and laughed aloud at the disgruntled expression on his old teacher's face.

"I see you have lost none of your audacity P-Devoryn." He sniffed and Harry chuckled again.

"Hmm. You know, if you wish to refer to me formally, you should call me 'Your Highness'. What you just said was terribly familiar." He declared, with an impish grin. Snape snorted and turned away, muttering about impertinent brats. Harry's brother in law looked a little offended, as did his father, but knowing much more about these people from Harry's stories than the other two, his mother and sister simply shrugged. They understood it was just the potions master's way.

With the veritable bombshell out of the way, the large group resumed their seats and began speaking of less weightier subjects. An hour or so later, Harry noticed Jareth stiffen slightly next to him. He turned a questioning gaze his way and waited.

"Beloved, it seems some foolish mortal had deigned to wish his life away. Can you hear the plea?" He asked and Harry concentrated. After a moment he jumped slightly in surprise. He could hear and all-too familiar voice in the back of his mind.

"I-I wish the Goblin King would come and take us away, right now!

The rest of the group jumped in surprise when they heard the usually softly spoken prince groan at the top of his voice: "Not MALFOY!?!"