Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth or anything else you recognise.
A/N: I've been posting over at The Silver Snitch, so this whole thing has gone through a minor editing. Thanks for the reviews everyone, and to SeulWolfe for beta-reading.
Chapter Eleven
"Sarah, go back to your room. Play with your toys and your costumes. Forget about the baby."
30th May, 2005 - The Living Room, Ragnok's Usual Suite
"What? Don't look at me like that, as if you had some right to criticise my actions or feelings! I know you've had a hard time through all of this as well, but the circumstances do not make either of you in any way blameless. There is always a choice." Harry snapped at Remus and Severus who both looked rather taken aback. Draco was fast beginning to realise he was missing some vital information here, and had a pretty good idea what that was.
"You - you're him, you're Potter?!" He demanded pointing a finger at the tall, winged elf who had just been speaking. Glancing at the hostile faces of the other elves and a large number of the goblins in the room, he quickly dropped the finger. He could do more magic without his wand than a normal wizard, true, but he did not want to aggravate a room full of people who currently looked a lot nastier than him. A Malfoy always knew when to whisper as well as when to roar, figuratively speaking of course.
"Yes and no. It's a complicated answer. I was, at one time, known under that name. But I never have really been him. Harry Potter never actually existed, except in the minds of those who would use and discard him. I am Prince Elessar Devoryn, and you will address me as Your Highness, or not at all." Harry replied, scowling at his former rival.
Draco took a moment or two to choke this down, before he slumped, looking rather defeated.
"Very well, Your Highness." He replied softly, before looking down and studying his shoes. Harry glanced at the others, and while he noted a slight look of reproach in Remus' eyes, he saw nothing of the kind in the eyes of his parents or anyone else. Clearly, they supported his actions, or at least, didn't object to them. Perhaps, as a prince, though not in line for his father's throne, he was expected to act with authority. Who knew? Maybe he would in time, but not right now.
Seeing these people from his past brought his mind back to a time and place it would rather forget, and he could not escape the feelings those memories evoked in him. Above all was the intense feeling of helplessness and frustration, but laced with that was the shame and fear. He hadn't meant to snap at Malfoy, it had just happened.
Facing away from the people in the room, looking out of the window at a cloudless blue sky, he began to speak.
"It was just after I had been arrested..."
29th January, 2001 - DMLE Holding Cells, Ministry of Magic
"Good evening, Harry."
The voice which greeted him was one he had known for a long time. One which, with the best will in the world, he had not wanted to hear again for an equally long time. Since he had fulfilled his destiny and taken down the Dark Lord which threatened their very world, he had expected to be able to finally live his own life. But that was not to be, or so it seemed anyway.
This afternoon, while he had been busily beavering away in the garden of his new cottage, he had been stunned and bound, (the bindings he had later discovered when he awoke in this cell), and all while his back had been turned. Only repeated and insistent questioning of his guards had revealed to him where he was and who was detaining him. He had been shocked to discover it was the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and had queried why they had not even advised him of his rights.
"What rights does a traitor have?" He had been told, and since then he had fallen silent.
Traitor?
Who and what had he betrayed, and how?
Despite wanting answers, he had not bothered the guard again; clearly such a peon would not be able to give him any useful information. So, he had been sitting quietly in his cell, trying to work out what he had done to deserve such treatment, when old busy beard had decided to drop by.
"Albus." He replied softly, not bothering to look the old man in the eye. "What brings you here on such a fine evening, pray tell?" He asked, wondering if he had spent too much time training with Snape during the war.
"Now, my boy, there is no need to be hostile. You have only yourself to blame for your predicament." He began, before the ever famous twinkle flared suddenly, and he turned and hit Harry's guard with a sleep spell. "Well, now he is out of the way, let me be frank. You were born for one purpose and one purpose only: to defeat the Dark Lord. You were never supposed to survive the confrontation, but you did. When that happened, I began to realise that this could be used to our advantage, who better to bring my family fame and fortune than our very own ready made hero? But you did not want this; you had to go and set yourself up in some horrid muggle town, and ignore the people who wanted to pay you the correct homage." Dumbledore delivered this in a flat, unemotional voice that was so out of character for him that Harry wondered silently if this was an impostor.
When the old git got to the part about homage, Harry couldn't help himself and he delivered forth a very Snape-like snort.
"Perhaps that's what you wanted, but I didn't. I never have. The people do not owe me anything, and vice versa. If anything, it is you who owes a debt, for not helping a child in need when he came to you." Harry replied, now looking defiantly into those too-blue eyes.
"Your upbringing was necessary to -" But Harry interrupted him.
"Not me! Tom Riddle! You call yourself a Headmaster and yet you were blind to the way he was raised. Or you supposedly were anyway. There is not a chance in Hell that his use of magic at that orphanage went unregistered. Not someone as powerful as him. Someone knew and someone hushed it up, and when I get my chance to speak I will - "
"You will what Harry? Blame me, the hero of the people for more than half a century!?" Dumbledore chuckled darkly. "I hardly think so. As if they would believe you over me! Oh, I see you shaking your head, and you are right. At one time, they may have, but not now. Oh, no, not now. They raised you on a pedestal many years ago, and more than once have they delighted in knocking you down, and right now my boy, you are lower than you ever have been before. In other times they may have been willing to put your behaviour down to youthful misdemeanour. But not anymore. No, I am afraid you will find no sympathisers among the people, which is as it should be. And if by chance they give you an opportunity to speak in your defence, then you will find it impossible to divulge our conversation. Magic has a myriad of uses, do you not think so?" He rose from the chair he had conjured for himself and flicked his wand over his Golden Boy.
He headed for the door, but stopped and turned back to face Harry again, who by now had walked to the front of his cell and was gripping the bars so tight his knuckles were white.
"I came here this evening to give you a chance to recant, and I would do my best for you. But it is clear that that is not to be. I had hoped you would understand why you are here, but it is also clear that you are too lost to be redeemed. Goodbye, Mister Potter."
30th May, 2005 - Near The Back Parlour, The Hogs Head
Aberforth Dumbledore adjusted the depth on the spelled mirror he was using to spy on the group which had taken over one of his larger private rooms. He felt no shame in doing so, since he had been regularly spying on his customers for years. Anyone who didn't take the proper precautions to keep their conversations secret deserved what they got, in his book.
It was not an unexpected bunch that had gathered for a few drinks and some frank words, but the subject matter at hand, was rather interesting, he thought. In the room were Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick and Aurora Sinistra from the school, with them were Alastor Moody, Emmeline Vance and Sturgis Podmore from the Order of the Phoenix.
Aberforth wondered if his esteemed brother was aware of this meeting.
And, if he wasn't, whether anyone here would be reporting the proceedings to him. Besides himself of course, though, these days, he was being rather more cagey about passing on information to his younger sibling than he had been in the past. Merlin knew Albus had family loyalty, but that would only stretch so far, and Aberforth found himself wondering, on more than one occasion, what it would take for his brother to decide to throw him to the wolves, just like he did with his Golden Boy, Harry Potter.
"I think he's gone and topped himself, finally! Don't know why he wasn't put down years ago. Kid like that is a danger to everyone." Moody declared in a gruff voice.
"Alastor, please." Chided Minerva, and the former Auror shrugged.
"I'm only saying is all. And don't you go taking some high and mighty moral attitude with me, Professor McGonagall! You were right up there with the rest of us, calling for his arrest." Moody replied, taking a swig of his drink.
"Yes, well. I've had time to reflect on... past events, and it's beginning to look less and less clear what kind of threat Harry posed. Yes, I realise he had not done his duty by siring any heirs, but would we really want more of him running around, causing havoc?" The Deputy Headmistress had chosen her words carefully, and looked around for a reaction.
Most of the others looked undecided, though Moody looked thoughtful.
"Maybe you're right. I think if he were going to begin some kind of campaign for revenge, we would have heard at least a whisper by now, though I'll grant you, it's only been ten days since the last time anyone saw him." Podmore said.
"He was always such a strange, quiet boy. Oh, I know he and his friends engaged in various high jinks and rule breaking, but it was nearly all in the defence of others or his own life. I was ever so shocked when the reports of his dangerous behaviour were printed in the papers." Sinistra told them, and a few shifted uncomfortably.
Some of them knew that a lot of those so called reports were fabrications based on pure conjecture and speculation. There was never any actual evidence against Harry. Filius, as ignorant of these facts as Sinistra, picked up her train of thought.
"And so unlike his parents! Clearly a tremendous physical likeness to James, his mother's eyes of course. But the temperament, the demeanour, so different! And he always seemed to be to be blessed with a kind of grace, and finesse. When he was casting in my lessons, his magic felt more refined, for all of his unfamiliarity with it." He mused and the others were slightly confused.
"I do still wonder how he managed to survive the killing curse, when he was barely a year old. I know of the ancient magic Lily is said to have invoked, but how many parents have died for their children? How many people did we witness on the battlefield, jump in front of a curse for another, only for that other to die by a second curse? I suppose we will never know the truth." Emmeline said, and the room was quiet for a while.
Aberforth, sensing the chance for some mayhem, decided this was his cue to tell a tale his father had told him and Albus, a very, very long time ago. Grinning at how chagrined his younger brother would be if he let this get out, he cancelled the spell, and got up from his chair.
5th June, 2005 – Jareth's Throne Room, The Castle Beyond The Goblin City
Harry was seated in the throne which had been placed next to Jareth's. He wasn't sure when it had been put there, it had just turned up one day and Jareth had told him to use it. A few paces away, his parents had been given rather ornate chairs to sit in, which apparently was the norm for visiting royalty.
They were gathered there that morning because word had been sent that not only was Crown Prince Talemario due to arrive any moment, but that the Court Veela Representative was nearing the city as well.
Harry had no problem admitting to nervousness at the idea of meeting his big brother for the first time. Part of him had always wanted an older brother to look up to, someone to watch out for him, and even someone to get completely rat arsed with, frankly.
Thinking about it now, he supposed he was worried that Talemario wouldn't like him, think him a freak and reject him. No prizes for realising where he got that idea from.
When he had been really little, and hadn't yet understood that he wasn't welcome with the Dursleys, he had sort of looked up to Dudley as his older brother. Not that he was that much older, but he had certainly been bigger.
On their first day at primary school, some of the kids had picked on him for his horrible clothes and battered glasses. They had teased him mercilessly, calling him names and asking if he had grown up on a council estate. A very small, rather diminished part of him hoped his cousin would stick up for him, but nothing could be further from the truth.
He was brought out his memories by Jareth's major-domo announcing the arrival of the Crown Prince of Faenya-Dail. Inwardly bracing himself, Harry prepared to greet his long lost big brother. He could only hope his trepidation didn't show on his face.
For his part, Talemario was inordinately pleased to be summoned to Jareth's castle to meet his brother.
Something inside him had known, even before his parents and sister had left the city, that this Avariel which the Goblin King had found was his brother. He'd almost felt like he had been missing a limb for his whole life. Even when he was a small boy, when Elessar had been stolen, he had known his life would never be the same again. His childlike mind had understood it, and been profoundly sad.
Not that he wasn't enjoying his sojourn as Regent of his father's kingdom, or anything like that. He wasn't especially eager to get away, it had felt good to be the one in charge, and he had felt so proud and grateful when his parents placed that trust in him. He was lucky, he knew, to have parents such as them. He was also blessed with his little sister, because while she could be intensely irritating and nosey when she wanted to be, she was also a wonderful friend and his staunchest supporter.
When he thought of how Elessar had been so cruelly denied this, and more, he was furious. A cold, burning fury, the likes of which he had never experienced before.
The day he had received and read the letter from his father confirming that the unidentified elf was in fact his little brother, it had been necessary for him to be locked in his room. It was the only way to prevent himself hurting any of the people around him, so angry was he. He spent a long time going over everything in his head, until he felt safe to be around other people again.
Hours later, when he'd finally emerged, he had decided on one salient point.
He would go to the Goblin City, he would begin his friendship with his brother, and then, when the time was right, he would avenge them all. Those who had sought to tear apart his family for their own gains had better prepare themselves to meet whichever deities they worshiped.
There would be no mercy for their enemies.
Harry drew a deep breath as his saw the elf which must be his brother enter through the large double doors and make his way towards the dais at the front. He was very glad for the silent support his lover and parents were offering, and for the quiet steadfastness of Sirius and his new mate, Lucius. The two men had been in seclusion for several days, during which they had completed their bond.
The changes in both of them as a result of their bonding, were nothing short of dramatic.
Literally years had fallen off them, their faces were full and youthful. Sirius had regained the vigour he had lost during his years in Azkaban prison. Lucius, who had looked like a veritable skeleton when he and his son arrived in the throne room, wasn't completely better. But all the same, he looked far younger than he had the first time Harry had seen him, in Flourish and Blotts, all those years ago. According to the court healers, time and a stress free environment was all he needed to make a full recovery. The new Malfoy family was overjoyed and Draco had begun to build a good relationship with Sirius.
Time was definitely something Harry felt he could provide them with - as for stress free... well. He would do his best, and that was all he could do. The two of them, as a veela and his mate were under his protection now and were... subjects of his, he supposed. That meant he would defend them and ensure that they were beyond the persecution of the rather short-sighted Wizarding world.
A discreet nudge from Jareth brought him back to the present, and he focused his attention on his brother.
"Thank you, Your Majesty, for your gracious welcome. You will forgive me if I set aside cold tradition and rituals to greet the brother I have lived so many years without." Turning to Elessar, he stepped forward hesitantly. "Elessar, dear Elessar, it has been too long. I find myself at once proud of the man you have become and chagrined that so many years have been stolen from us. Please, may I?" He said holding his arms out, clearly wanting to embrace him.
Harry flicked a glance at Jareth, and then at his parents, before he rose from his throne and made his way over to Talemario. Pausing briefly to look into the other man's eyes, he stepped forwards into his big brother's arms.
Talemario held onto his little brother tightly, as if he feared he would disappear again. Involuntarily, his wings unfurled and wrapped around the other elf, cocooning him in warmth and safety.
"I can't believe you're really here." Talemario murmured and Harry just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was a little embarrassed about the display he was making, but he told himself not to think about it, since he knew it was perfectly normal to show affection to one's family. The way he grew up was not how things should be done. He hoped that if he kept reminding himself about that, he would eventually be able to get past it.
"Here, let me look at you." His brother said, and Harry allowed him to pull him back and cup his face in his hands. Everyone else in the throne room was silent, letting the brothers have their moment.
"Do I pass?" Harry said with a weak laugh.
"Of course. I hope we'll be able to spend some time together, and get to know each other. I wish I could have been there for you, when you were growing up, when you became a man. I know some of what has happened to you. I wish I could take all that hurt away, erase it. But I can't." He sighed. "Things will be better now. We're all together again." He turned to face the rest of the royal family, who were seated together, smiling.
Harry noticed tears in the eyes of the princess and the queen. At some gesture from Talemario, they rose from their seats and wrapped their arms around both of them.
Jareth watched the proceedings with an eye which was no longer cynical, no longer jaded. When he had spoken with Harry about his renewing the burnt out embers of his heart, how he had brought spring to the long, barren winter of his soul, he hadn't been exaggerating. These past weeks with his husband-to-be had been a revelation for him. Feelings long since repressed were resurfacing, and he barely recognised himself these days.
That was fine with him though. He doubted Harry could have loved the man he was before, and such a thing was now unthinkable to him. In some ways it scared him how quickly the elf had managed to worm his way into his heart, and just how dependent Jareth now was on him. Even more terrifying than that though, was the idea of losing him. That, now they had finally found each other, after two hundred years of waiting, what they had might be snatched away.
He didn't think it likely, but it did worry him.
Those who had persecuted and imprisoned him during his years as a wizard still posed a threat to him now. The mere presence of other wizards made him nervous. They had been vouched for, true, but if they had managed to find their way here, to his kingdom, others who were less welcome might be able to do the same thing. Others had, in fact, when the infant Prince Elessar had been kidnapped.
He had very little doubts that he and his people were strong enough to combat any forces or machinations the wizards of the Aboveground could muster. But he was worried about the effect any exposure to that world could have on his mate. He was only just beginning to heal his broken heart and spirit, and Jareth for one was not about to let his so-called friends do any more damage at this critical stage.
The decision was most likely out of his hands, however. Instincts which had served him for several millennia told him that the Fates had something planned for the wizards, something severe and most likely permanent.
He had begun to have his suspicions on this matter when he had discovered their binding of Harry's magic. Further research conducted by his people unearthed more cases where the very same thing had been done to others, for very little provocation or just cause. One did not live as long as Jareth had and not understand that such a cavalier attitude to the gifts Fate has given you could ever go unpunished.
If the wizards believed that they could treat people in this abusive fashion and steal from them what was never theirs to give or take in the first place, then they were the worst kind of fools. Some, might call it karma, though that would not be entirely accurate.
Karma, as Jareth understood it, was one facet of certain religions on Earth. He had read extensively of that world and its population, since it was so closely linked to his own.
Closer than he would like it to be, currently.
From what he could tell, karma is not about retribution, vengeance, punishment or reward; karma simply deals with what is. The effects of all deeds actively create past, present and future experiences, thus making one responsible for one's own life, and the pain and joy it brings to others.
Throughout this process, many believe a deity plays some kind of role, for example, as the dispenser of the fruits of karma. Well, the wizards would soon understand that while they did not answer to a god per say, they would have to accept the consequences of their actions, and the Fates would most probably enjoy their role as dispensers.
He himself was rather looking forward to that aspect of it. However, he was concerned at the effect it would have on his Harry, and the wizards they had offered shelter to. While none would deny it was justified, Harry had a soft heart and might find it too harsh a punishment. Plus, there was the possibility that the people they had taken in might not be spared. He thought it unlikely, as he could easily offer himself as a guardian of sorts, but it was possible.
As he ruminated on this problem, he kept one ear on the conversation around him. Things seemed to be calming down a notch or two, and he had just heard Harry suggest they repair to one of the more comfortable parlours for refreshment. Having found unconditional acceptance from his elder sibling, Harry had begun fussing over him, questioning him on his long journey here.
Since matters were fresh in his mind, and since everyone was so conveniently gathered in one place, perhaps it was time to share his suspicions? After all, a delay in disclosure could potentially be just as damaging, if not more, than leaving the revelation to the moment of judgement.
Added to that, keeping secrets from his lover was not a positive way to begin a marriage. He'd be damned if he set his love against him before the vows had even been said!
5th June, 2005 – The Comfortable Parlour, The Castle Beyond The Goblin City
Once everyone had been seated and furnished with various refreshments, Jareth waited for the right moment to air his theories. He was loathe to bring up such dark thoughts when they were all enjoying a quiet moment, but as he had previously thought, it was better to bring it up now so that they could be prepared. He didn't like ruining such a happy gathering, but needs must, as they say.
When Harry was beginning his second cup of tea, Jareth cleared, drawing his attention. Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at him expectantly.
"I thought I should make you aware of something I have been considering for some time. I think I may have mentioned before that the Fates frown on any interference in magic?" Jareth said, and Harry frowned. "Regardless of whether I went into detail or not, I now believe this to be a very real possibility. No one should have the power to remove your magic, or even bind it as it was with you. It is a gift given to you, and should not be tampered with. Even I would never take such action, despite having the power to do so. Since meeting you and hearing what had happened, my people have discovered several other cases where this has occurred before. I have lived for a long time, and as a Fae, am closer connected to the Powers That Be than perhaps others are. You will be too, once we are joined. I cannot communicate with them in any direct way, but the feelings I am receiving from them lead me to believe that they are on the verge of taking, permanent, drastic action. This is a pivotal time for wizards and witches. I believe that they are about to come face to face with the consequences of their actions."
Jareth finished his explanation with a grim expression. From the corner of his eye, he could see that the others in the room had been listening with rapt attention, but he didn't want to look away from Harry to correctly categorise their reactions. He could find out later, for now, he was worried about his lover.
It frustrated him that he didn't know Harry well enough to predict how he would react. He knew it was dangerous to try and pigeonhole people, but he couldn't help himself sometimes. During the healing he had learnt a lot about Harry, but since then their circumstances had changed so much, that he really wasn't sure how this news was going to affect him.
"What do you think they might do, Jareth?" Harry asked quietly, sipping his tea. From outward appearances he seemed calm, but that didn't mean that a storm wasn't raging inside.
"I think that they may react rather forcefully, possibly removing the magic from those involved. Their definition of 'involved' might be rather more vague than yours or mine, however. They may believe that those who arrested and prosecuted you are the guilty parties. Or, it may extend to those friends and associates of yours who did not intervene or represent you in any way, or..."
"Or, it may include every witch and wizard in the world who didn't protest at the violation of my basic human rights." Harry finished the thought for his lover.
"The wizarding world does not have a subscription to, or even acknowledge the Geneva Convention, Your Highness. They are not familiar with the term 'civil liberties'. It is my understanding that if your case was presented to a court which followed the laws and practices which muggles have set up, that it would probably have been thrown out of said court. That is, if it had even gotten to that stage. I doubt there are many Crown Prosecutors who would even agree to try the case." Remus interjected at his point, and Harry frowned again.
"So by that reasoning do you imply that all wizarding folk in Britain are culpable, because they elected the leaders that carried out those acts? Or do you mean that because they allowed it to happen without protest, that they condoned it and therefore should hold an equal share of the blame?" He asked.
"It is entirely possible that the Fates will see it that way. They are less than fond of having their power usurped." Jareth clarified, and there was silence for a long moment.
"Then good. They richly deserve it. That and more." Replied Harry, grim satisfaction practically pouring from him. Without another word, he rose and left the room.
The rest of the people in the parlour watched the door as it closed and then turned to look at each other.
"I cannot say that his reaction was unexpected. They took too much from him, his very being, in fact. While I don't believe he is inherently vengeful or vindictive, even Elessar can be pushed beyond his level of tolerance." Jareth observed, and a few others nodded.
"Perhaps someone should go after him?" The Queen said, eyebrows raised.
"Let me, mother." Talemario offered and he received a nod from Jareth.
30th May, 2005 - The Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Albus Dumbledore was engaged in a task which always left him severely agitated, namely, his paperwork. He was forever putting it off until such time that it became urgent, and because he had no system, it always felt like he was rushing. Which he was. After so many years in his position, one would think he would organise things better, but he didn't.
When one of the portraits informed him of imminent visitors, he set aside the documents he had been working on with alacrity, glad to have an excuse.
What he had not bargained for, was the extremely angry faces of said visitors.
"Dumbledore, you have a lot of explaining to do - starting now!"