A/N: MAY TRIGGER! Descriptions of self-injury. If this isn't your thing, then go away!

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For days, Harry struggled with the dark cloud inside him. It leeched slowly off of his Elven magic – but he found that his human magic was able to fight it back. And his human magic was what made him who he was.

He lay in a comatose state for five days, before he was finally able to open his eyes again. He saw Snape sitting at a desk a few metres away, and tried to call out. His unused voice was sore and harsh, and all he could manage was a soft croak. Snape heard him, however, and rushed to his side.

"Potter," he said quietly. "Are you awake now?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I'm – back."

And with that, he fell back onto the pillow and slipped into a deep, but natural slumber for the first time in days.

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Snape sat up for several long hours beside Harry's bedside, watching the boy sleep. He found a strange peacefulness in seeing him lie still at last, his only movements those formless shifting of a child in deep slumber.

He reached out a hand and brushed a sweat-soaked strand of hair off of Harry's forehead, and then mentally shook himself. What was he doing? The child was a student, and none of his concern.

He sighed and got up to begin work on a Revitalizing potion, though he could not stop himself from casting worried glances back over his shoulder at the still form of the sleeping boy.

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Harry woke some hours later to find himself alone in Snape's chambers. He sat up and pushed the blankets off of himself, and spotted a note on Snape's table. He levered himself off of the couch and stalked over to read it.

Potter,

If you are reading this, then you have awakened whilst I am out in the Forest gathering Potions ingredients. I shall be gone for quite some time, and will be back around sunset. Feel free to leave my chambers, but be warned that I told Dumbledore and the others that you had gone to visit the 'old mountain man' that you stayed with. Be back in my chambers by midnight. I have some questions I wish to ask you. Good luck, and do not be seen entering or leaving my chambers. The password is Salmissra.

Severus Snape

Harry blinked in surprise, and shook his head to clear it of the fog that was drifting around his mind. He looked out a window to see that it was around six in the evening, judging from how the sun was just a few inches above the horizon. He sighed and prepared to leave Snape's chambers, cleaning and changing his robes with a flick of his hand. He Summoned a Revitalizing potion from his trunk with another wave of his hand, and after drinking it, set out for his room.

He made it about halfway up to Gryffindor Tower when he heard voices just down the corridor. He quickly slipped into 'invisible mode' and crept silently forwards.

"It's been nearly a week, Albus!" a familiar voice was saying. "Who knows where he could have gone!"

"Minerva, Severus has informed me that Harry went to see the old wizard he stayed with, and that it was an emergency. I believe him. Harry is quite capable of handling himself, and I do not believe that he would just leave without any real reason."

"But, Albus – what if – "

"No more, Minerva. Harry will return in his own time. He is caught up in his classes, so there are no worries about that. Please, just settle down."

Harry heard McGonagall huff off, and he smiled slightly. He did not, however, reveal himself to Dumbledore – he was not in the mood for explanations just yet.

He made his way up to Gryffindor Tower and cast a small charm on the Fat Lady to make her temporarily unaware as she swung open. He slipped in and out of happily chattering students, feeling a wave of relief wash over him as he saw that Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be seen.

He crept up to his dormitory and saw to his relief that it was empty. He quickly scrambled over to his bed and plopped down on it with a sigh, happy to be comfortable at last. He scooted over to the edge of his bed and leaned over his trunk, opening it and flicking through his things until he came to a heavily shielded and enchanted box. It was a special means of communication between himself and Eldwyn – Eldwyn had a similar box. He could place a small item inside it, such as a letter or artifact, and send it to the matching set – in this case, Harry's. And the last thing he wanted was to send his spirit back into the Vale and possibly catch the disease a second time, if that was possible.

Harry picked up his box and sat back to open it, twitching the curtains shut and warding them heavily as he did so. He opened the box, and was pleased to find a letter inside. Hastily, he picked it up and opened it, anxious to see what had happened to the Vale.

Harry, it read in graceful Elven script, I do not know where you are. I can only hope that you too have not fallen ill. Over half the people in the Vale now suffer from this disease, and it is with a grieving heart that I tell you that Adara has fallen prey to its dark clutches. Llyrithen came down with a touch of weakness, but she was able to fight it off and is now helping to attempt Healing on the fallen. Luckily, those who have survived once have been immune to it since.

Harry, I did not want to tell you this through a letter, but – Adara died. I am sorry dearling, but she was stricken hard and fast, and we did not know until it was too late. She worked herself to exhaustion through her Healing, and did not have enough strength left to Heal herself. She has gone on to a better place – do not grieve too much for her. And for your own safety, Harry, do not try to contact me or anyone else at the Vale. I just hope this letter finds you in good condition. Try and stay safe, my little one.

---Eldwyn

Harry sat back, gasping with shock. Adara—dead? It couldn't be. She was too strong—Eldwyn was lying—no! NO!

The last was shouted aloud in a hoarse voice as Harry threw himself off of his bed, the letter fluttering to the floor beside it. He destroyed his wards with a barked word, and ran to the window, throwing himself out of it as he swiftly changed into his gryphon form. Winging desperately out over the quickly darkening Forest, he flew himself into exhaustion before coming to rest beside a small pool in a clearing. He changed back into himself before throwing himself to the ground and sobbing as though his heart had been torn in two.

How long he lay there, he did not know. When he looked up, however, he found himself looking into a pair of soft, intelligent blue eyes as the stars were just beginning to come out.

"Firenze," he said in surprise, levering himself slowly into a sitting position. "It's…..nice to see you again. What are you doing out here?"

The centaur looked at him with sorrowful eyes. "You carry much inside of you, Harry Potter," he said softly. "Make sure that it is not too much. You never know when it may overwhelm you."

Harry glared at the centaur, not in the mood for mind games. "Look, no offense, but go away. I'm…..not in the best of moods."

Firenze smiled sadly. "As you wish, Harry Potter. Just be wary of yourself. You do not have much else to fear."

And with that, he was gone. Harry wiped a few stray tears from his face, and transformed into a gryphon once more, heaving himself into the air with labored wingbeats. He could not risk staying out here and running into anyone else – his mind couldn't handle it at the moment.

He turned back towards the castle, flying wearily. He landed on top of the Astronomy Tower, and changed back into himself before clambering down and in through the observation door.

He had hardly gotten inside before another wave of grief washed over him. This was where he and Adara had spent a few nights sitting up and talking, away from other people. She had been like a mother to him – she had been his best friend. Now she was gone.

He slid to the ground, hugging his knees and rocking back and forth slightly. He had no more tears left.

He stood up suddenly and cast a powerful silencing charm and warding charm around the room, before conjuring several glass orbs out of thin air and throwing them with blinding speed against the wall. He continued to hurl more and more of them, his eyes stinging with tears that begged to be shed, but would not fall.

Finally, he hurled one last orb into the air and gasped as it exploded before he even had a chance to grasp it, throwing up his arms to shield his face. He cried out as jagged pieces of shattered glass ripped across the skin of his arm, barely missing his face before they fell bloodied to the floor. He moved as if to cover the multitude of tiny lacerations on his arms, but then stopped, fascinated by the sight of his own blood. He gazed at his torn skin, watching as blood ran in tiny rivulets down his arm, and then gasped as he realized that he had gone numb inside. The physical pain was drowning out his mental and emotional anguish.

Slowly, as if moving in a dream, he reached down and picked up one of the larger bits of broken glass. He set it to his arm, then hesitated before resolutely pressing down and drawing back in a quick, firm motion. He gasped as the pain flooded through him, and then relaxed as another numbing sensation washed through him. He watched the blood flowing down to the floor and suddenly felt cleansed, as if he could bleed out the poison of anguish that was inside of him. Or even simply punish himself for existing.

You failed Eldwyn. You failed Adara. You failed the Vale. You don't deserve happiness. Bleeding is all you are good for now.

He sat there and repeated the motion several more times before he was satisfied, his arm torn in a dozen places and bleeding even more heavily than before. He sat there, transfixed. Suddenly, he sensed another presence drawing near, and waved his hand to close his wounds before shattering his wards and silencing spells. He threw a spell of invisibility over himself and silently slipped out of the window, fluttering away on an owl's wings and leaving behind several pieces of shattered, bloody glass as a bewildered Filch slunk into the Tower, staring bemusedly at the scene of devastation that lay before him.

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Harry managed to creep back into the castle and down to the dungeons unseen, and made it into Snape's chambers at half past eleven. He sensed as soon as he walked in that Snape was in the room, and turned towards the chair where he was sitting.

"So. You're back. And awake, I see," Snape said, steepling his fingers in a way that was very reminiscent of Dumbledore, albeit a slightly demonic one.

Harry nodded, taking a seat across from his professor. "I was – asleep for quite a while, I imagine," he said hesitantly. Snape nodded.

"Six days, in fact. Apparently you were facing some sort of illness. Would you care to enlighten me as to the nature of this illness – and how you contracted it, when no one else in the castle has fallen ill?"

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's…..complicated. I don't know if you'd understand."

"Enlighten me."

"Harry sighed again, and then sat back, wishing fervently that he could just go to bed. "It's like – you know how in wizards, they have magic inside them, and using a wand, they draw upon it without thinking?" At Snape's nod, he continued. "Well, instead of just wizard's magic, I have Elven magic inside of me as well. I know how to draw directly from it, however, so I do not need a wand."

"Wait a moment," Snape interrupted, holding up a hand. "You say this magic is inside you, like it's a separate being that is contained in your body. And how did you get this Elven magic?"

"In a way, magic is a separate being," Harry replied, shifting uncomfortably as the half-closed scabs on his arms snagged the fabric of his sleeves just the tiniest bit. "Most people do not need to see it as such because they have wands to draw it out for them. For me, when I look inside myself, so to speak, I see a pool of shimmering energy centered somewhere around my chest. Usually it's all one solid color or form, because there is only one type of energy or magic. I, however, have the Elven magic, as I said before, so I see two different 'colors' swirling around. There are touches of others that I learned, such as a bit of dwarven and song charms, but mostly it is Elven. If I want to use magic, I reach into the well, so to speak, and draw out a bit to use for whatever I need. Most people don't even know about this process, because their wand draws out the power naturally. The infusion of the charmed wood with the magical core naturally attracts and draws out magic – though sometimes it can escape by itself, if bottled up with strong emotion too long."

Snape remained silent through the explanation, and sat back when Harry finished, nodding slightly. "I think I understand. But how does this relate to this…..illness of yours?"

Harry sighed, wincing at the pain that discussing the illness brought him. He surreptitiously dug his fingers into his unhealed cuts to ground himself, and continued. "This illness is explicitly Elven, or so it seems. Only those who possess Elven magic are susceptible. I was able to fight it because I still have wizards' magic, though it was hard because I have so much Elven in my spirit now."

Snape nodded, comprehension dawning on his face. "So that is why no one else here fell ill. But how did you get this – disease?"

Harry's face suddenly darkened, and he turned his face away. Snape caught himself reaching out to put a hand on the boy's shoulder, and shook his head, drawing back sharply. Harry caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing, still caught in his own grief.

"It originated in the Vale, where I was staying. I'm not sure how. But I heard about it from one of my old friends, and I went into a trance and sent my spirit there through a communication link that I have with the Vale and the people in it. While I was 'there', my magical aura must have caught the disease, so to speak."

Snape nodded. "So this…..disease must transmit through magical energy. But – are your friends in the Vale – are they—"

"Adara's gone," Harry said softly. He turned his face away to hide the tears that were starting to form in his eyes, and Snape once more caught himself wanting to reach out to the boy. He allowed Harry his moment of sorrow before replying, "I'm sorry. I know it must be hard."

Harry only nodded, and brought himself under control by once more silently digging his nails into his forearm under his baggy sleeves until he could feel small drops of blood welling up from under them. The pain steadied and centered him, and he took a deep breath and sat up to face Snape.

"I suppose you should go find Dumbledore," he said softly, but composedly. "Tell him what's happened to Adara."

Snape nodded and rose. He was halfway to the door before he stopped and turned back to the sorrowful figure behind him. "You may stay in my chambers another night if you wish…..before you go out and face the world again. I will not inform anyone of your return."

Harry nodded gratefully and slowly rose from his seat as Snape swept out the door. He paced around the room for close to an hour before Snape returned, to find him staring pensively into the fire.

"Are you staying?" Snape asked, and Harry nodded, his bloodshot eyes downcast. Snape nodded and pointed to a door. "In there is the bathroom. I imagine that you would like to wash up. You may do so, if you wish."

Harry nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly. He slowly stood up and Summoned a spare robe from his rooms with a wave of his hand. They popped out of midair, not needing to physically travel the distance because of his level of skill.

He walked wearily to the bathroom, and pushed open the door. It was surprisingly tasteful and decorative, made out of rich black and gold marble and accented with gold faucets and rims. He closed and locked the door behind him and stripped, turning on the hot water to a near-scalding temperature. He stepped into the shower and hissed as the falling water stung and burned in the cuts that adorned his forearm, making the water run red and thick into the drain as it rinsed off all of the dried blood from the last few hours.

He stood under the water for nearly half an hour before he sighed and turned off the water. He stepped out, toweling himself off with a towel from the rack, and slipped on his fresh clothes. He cast a quick bandaging spell on his arm, but did not heal it. He wanted the scars to be there – to remind him.

Once he was dried off and dressed, Harry unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out. He shook out his damp hair one more time before he carefully hung the towel over the shower curtain rod and set out to find Snape.

It wasn't all that hard, seeing as Snape's quarters weren't that big. Harry found Snape seated on an armchair before the fire, studying the book before him with a pensive expression. He looked up at Harry's approach.

"Ah, Harry. There you are. Do you feel any better now?" Snape asked, and something flickered for a moment in Harry's eyes as he realised that Snape had just called him by his given name for the first time in his life. He made no comment, however, simply nodded, his face unreadable.

Snape half-smiled, an odd sight indeed, and suddenly sighed. "Are you – all right?" he asked seriously, though reluctantly. "I know what you have been through is very hard and painful."

Something flickered again in Harry's eyes, but he shook his head. "I'm fine. I told you. I'll be alright. Now – would it be alright if I found somewhere to sleep again?"

Snape stared for a moment, and then snapped back to himself with a shake of his head. "Yes. Of course. You can use my guest bedroom tonight. I apologize that I didn't put you in it in the first place, but I needed you close."

Harry nodded, and followed Snape into a small, cozy back room that was elegantly decorated, wall torches casting a flickering light over a heavy black and gold color scheme. Harry tested out a queen sized bed with one hand, and smiled thinly.

"This is wonderful. Thank you."

Snape merely nodded and swept out of the room.

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Snape ran a hand through his glossy black hair and sighed. The boy was an enigma, that much was certain if nothing else. He knew that Harry was hurting, but why wouldn't the boy let it show? He had to know that it would hurt him in the long run…..

He shook his head and decided that a shower was what he needed. He walked to the bathroom and shed his outer robes, running a comb through his hair with one hand while leaning into the bathtub to turn on the faucets with the other. Suddenly he froze, hair falling limply from the teeth of the comb from its abrupt lack of motion.

He stared carefully at the drain, his eyes wide. There was a circle of reddish color around it, and some on the sides of the bath as well. Was that – blood?

He squinted some more and then came to the conclusion that it was most definitely blood. Wizard's blood. But for there to be remnants of it in the bath still…..there would have had to have been a lot of it.

He straightened abruptly and swept his outer robes back on, stalking silently into the outer room, the bathroom door swinging jerkily behind him. Quiet as a mouse, he crept into the sleeping boy's room.

"Lumos" he whispered. A thin beam of light shot out of his wand, and he flicked it gently to nudge the covers off of Harry's arm. Another flick lifted the sleeve up, and the light from the tip of his wand threw into sharp relief the many ridges and gashes that ran up and down the boy's arm from wrist to elbow. Snape grimaced. Just as he had suspected.

Silent as ever, he slowly and gently let the magics drop everything back into its proper place and crept out of the room. He dropped into a chair with a sigh, running his hands through his hair once more. What was he to do with the boy?

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A/N: im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry! I was away for a lot of the summer, and I was sooooo busy with work and taekwondo and babysitting, and everything! I know, that's no excuse….but hopefully I can stay on top of things now that school's back in I can stay in one place for a while….I left the country for a bit, and THEN my computer died and I had to rewrite this WHOLE chapter. Sigh. But annnnnyways, ima post this now and let yall get on to reviewing!