Chapter Four - The Blonds

Next morning Harry jumped awake. For a while he wasn't sure what was going on. Then it all came back to him. He was not home. He was spending his fourth day on a camping trip in who knows where and he still had no way to home.

He looked for his clothes and sighed. Gone again it seemed.

"That's depressing," he muttered to himself while he conjured another set of trousers.

"Great. Just great!" He shouted angrily when he realized that the trousers were yet again too big and he had changed back to child again. "Why? Why is it so bloody important that I'm a midget?!"

It seemed the night had brought him some answers. He couldn't figure it out yesterday but now he could sort of feel a pull from the mist to his tiny form. It was like back home whenever he did self-transfiguration. His true form was what he always changed back to when he let go of the magic. That was what made metamorphmagi different and talented. They lacked that chord that bound their form.

Although back home he didn't change back without consciously thinking about it and he had held another form for at least a week without problems. The change back had not happened this soon ever. Hermione explained that it was because he was odd that way or powerful, whatever. But here the 'magic' had apparently decided that his real form was that of a child.

How vexing.

"Oh merlin, I'm never going to hear the end of this," Harry exclaimed when he realized what would happen if anyone back home should ever hear about this adventure. Then he started snickering. Molly would be triple the mother hen she was now. There was no way the twins would ever be able to do anything to him ever again.

"I wonder if I really am a child then," Harry talked to himself while making breakfast. It was damn hard to really make yourself permanently younger. That was one rare thing that witches hadn't yet been able to do. Even Flamel and his stone had limits and the years quickly caught up to him and Nelle if they skipped their afternoon 'tea'. Voldemorts Horcruxes couldn't prevent aging either.

There was an old dark suspicion in Harry's mind that he had tried not to think about in recent years.

Because he had noticed his friends getting older. Ron had filled out, turned from a boy to a man. Hermiones face had changed shape, matured. It was nothing very obvious as she was only a bit over twenty even with her time using the turners. Neville, Seamus and even Ginny seemed to mature in front of his eyes.

But whenever Harry looked into a mirror, he saw himself unchanged. No one had voiced it yet but he feared it was not just his genes. He feared - it was the whole master of death thing.

"Eurgh," Harry moaned when he bit into his sandwich. It was supposed to be ham and cheese but the filling resembled something slimy that Snape used in his potions. "Nothing is going right today!"

That was the problem with conjuring. Concentration was the key and some things didn't work even then. Fizzy drinks, marmalade filled pears, chili roasted turkey, toothpaste, just to mention a few examples. That was simply something you had to learn to live with. Harry had never mentioned his list to Hermione.

"Speaking of toothpaste," Harry poked his teeth with his tongue. Three days without a brush seemed to be too much even with breath freshening charms. He conjured up a toothbrush and a glass of water.

Talking about food, he would just have to start making breakfast the old fashioned way from now on. By cooking and only conjuring the basics. Besides, he really did like cooking. Kreacher just liked to torment him by not allowing him to do so.

~o~

By that afternoon Harry was entering the forest. It had sort of crawled on him. He had figured he still had another day to go but the way had been littered with hills and the trees had claimed the valleys. He had decided to venture in to the woods for a short while and cross the river a few miles northerly where it seemed narrower.

The forest seemed vary of him. This was odd. He had never been a tree hugger or believed plants had feelings, despite Neville's lectures on the subject, but these trees were something else. It wasn't quite whispering he heard but rather he felt them. It was not the same as it was with the mist. This forest was dark and violent and he didn't like the idea that it could somehow read him back. The trees didn't want him there and Harry didn't want to go adventuring in the darkness so everyone was happy. Mostly.

"Bloody bushes," he cursed when he tripped on the roots for the umpteenth time. "This is going to take forever to get through." He was very tempted to turn into adult size again just for the longer legs.

He had hoped to be by the river tomorrow but now it seemed unlikely. He couldn't really apparate because he had not had a good look of an apparition spot and he really couldn't - well, shouldn't do it blind. And his wonderful, worlds best broom, didn't fly high enough to pass the treetops. He guessed he could float himself up but with these malicious trees from hell and the mist magic, he just didn't care to try. Yet.

That didn't leave him helpless of course. He had a huge machete knife that he used to clear his path and even the trees were smart enough to draw back from the bluebell flames. Well, draw back as much you could when you were rooted to the ground. If they didn't like him, fine, he didn't much like them either. When he got home, he would probably need to meet with some sort of mental health professional to talk about his issues with the greenery.

~o~

Harry was surprised to notice it was pretty late already. It was hard to tell when the trees shadowed the sky.

He had noticed a lot of animal trails while walking and wasn't really inspired to spend his night lying on the ground. There had been some pretty big paw prints. He had a fleeting thought of ripping through space and time and either step right into tomorrow morning or spend his night in the ever between.

"Yeah, right," he snorted. He really shouldn't read muggle fiction.

He looked for a sturdy tree and climbed to sit on the first branch. He also tried to ignore the shivers he got when he touched the bark. This tree was old and he could feel it again trying to say something to him. He would've chosen another but it was the only one he had seen in a while that could probably withstand a rhino attack.

While climbing up Harry felt weird. Neither in a good way nor in a bad way. It simply felt new. Unknown.

This old tree was – familiar to him. Warm like the dining table in the Burrow. Joyful like the timber chairs in Gryffindor common room. Dark like the wooden knife handles in Grimmault place. And he had never thought wood could feel at all. It was only now that he noticed those things.

To his surprise he climbed up effortlessly. He had noticed that he felt a lot lighter today while he walked. It couldn't all be chalked up to him getting more fit but he liked the results. His step was lighter, he felt more balanced, he could see and hear better. Though that last part wasn't so good if it meant he was going to be feeling every tree's and rock's moods but at least it was easy climbing huge trees even though he himself was four feet tall.

"I guess this will do." Harry stopped to sit when he was about sixteen feet from the ground and there were two huge branches that crossed and made a good place to sit and even lie down carefully, if you were child sized.

Harry took a twig and lengthened it. Transfiguring wood was like dealing with water. It just flowed.

The wood became longer and wider until it resembled a round comfy bed. Harry decided to play it safe and added a small curve upwards on the edges. So no matter how restless he slept, he wouldn't fall. Then he lowered the bed on top of the branches, molded it some and made sure it stayed there.

Next a plump mattress appeared with brown bedding. Transfigured from the leaves. It was soft and inviting. Without losing a minute, Harry crawled into his nest. Absently he waved his hand behind him and made a blue sparkle spread around the tree. Privacy wards were almost as good as any security ward.

~o~

Birdsong woke Harry up. His bed was high enough that some rays of sunlight fell on him. He stretched languorously and rubbed his eyes. His bed was warm, the morning air crispy and all he wanted to do was curl up in the heat and sleep the morning away.

"ãure autaoantie ar me roita sinomë," someone sung somewhere close enough for Harry to hear and all traces of sleep were gone. Meeting someone here, in the middle of nowhere could be either good or bad. And considering what he knew of this place, it was probably the latter. The language of the incomer was melodic and very beautiful. It sounded a bit like rune singers, a talent Harry knew very little of but he had heard them while he journeyed with Luna in Finland.

After listening for a minute, Harry came to the conclusion that it wasn't singing he heard but rather talking. And as he concentrated more on the quality and tone, the speech wasn't that beautiful either. It actually sounded whiny and the talker was clearly complaining.

He peeked over his bed only to see nothing.

"Tass anann lenn, muindor. Ven ist I'ur," someone else answered the first. This speaker seemed in much better spirits and although Harry could hardly be sure, the language also sounded different.

He again peeked over his bed. He really was not that high and without his invisibility wards he was there for the world to see. Luckily his bed blended in a bit. He tried to listen hard for footsteps or anything to hint where these two were and whether there were more of them.

He was a bit excited to finally meet someone. Maybe they could help him. Maybe they would say he was in Hungary or somewhere in Russia. Perhaps in a place under ancient wards that kept him from apparating and perhaps they were growing odd species of animals here. Like those Orcs. Maybe – a lot of things.

Harry bit his lip.

He glanced around again and this time he saw a shimmer of something a few trees away, behind some bushes. No one was near his tree. He quickly let out a short wave of magic, warding the upper part of the tree. He was hopeful it would hide him. Even if the newcomers were wizards.

His heart plummeted a minute later when he got a good look of who was snooping around his hideout. They were elves! Unmistakably. He hissed and tried to remember all he had learned from the Orc's mind.

Vicious. Would attack immediately. White hair, glowing skin, pale eyes. Good eyesight. Warriors. He would have to tread carefully here.

Not that he completely trusted his information. He knew it was heavily colored by the being he took the knowledge from. But as he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but remember seeing elves, covered in black blood with snarls on their faces. Elves that had white blades that were sharp and they killed Orcs for fun.

Harry barely kept his eyes above his bedside and assessed the two elves. There seemed to be no more.

They were both male and blond.

'Eurgh, more Malfoys,' Harry couldn't help but think. The first one even had the same self-satisfied expression. Maybe his impression of the elves had been spot on. No race here seemed to be very intelligent or benign.

The elves were armed with swords and the second one carried a huge bow. The arrows in the quiver at his back seemed very pointy. They wore tunics that seemed of good quality. Harry still couldn't hear their steps which was odd. Perhaps the elves did know more magic than he thought.

To his displeasure he couldn't help but notice that the two were handsome. All pretty and shiny with glittery blue eyes and... He could almost believe they had peaceful intentions. Almost.

The taller of the two, the whiner, got closer to his tree and Harry could hear them talk but couldn't understand a thing. He was also a bit pressed for time because even though he might look like a child, that did not mean he would accept soiling himself. A bathroom break would be good right now.

Carefully he pushed his magic outwards and conveyed wanting to hide. He concentrated on a bubble where only he could be. He also sent a tendril of magic to the elf that was the furthest and weaved a compulsion net over him. He knew he was taking a small risk. Though this magic was something only highly trained wizards would notice but he had no idea how these elves reacted to magic.

"Le hiol ne?" Someone said from right under his bed.

Harry froze. He had just put up his repelling and secrecy ward so how in the Merlin's name did that snooty elf get through it?! He could hear every word the elf said clearly which meant that the elf was standing at the root of the tree. Right under him.

Obviously the elves still couldn't see him but they were looking around. Searching for something and Harry had a bad feeling that something was him.

Ron always said best defense was offense and as the elves hadn't reacted to him using magic, well, reacted differently than before, he dared to do this. Once more he sent his magic out to ensnare both of them. The one further away would have desire to go look from somewhere else.

Harry squeezed his legs together, trying not to think anything watery. He was getting a bit desperate here. He again peeked over his bedside and it had actually worked. The other was walking back into the trees.

After that Harry turned his attention to the elf below him. The Malfoy wannabe was just standing there leisurely. Probably checking if he had any dirt under his fingernails. Harry would try and siphon the surface thoughts of the stranger. He had to know what they were saying. If that didn't work out, he would just jump down and stun the nosy bastards. Hoping that their shiny skin wouldn't act as a mirror and reflect his spells. They certainly seemed resistant enough to some types of magic.

Luckily the elf was still just standing there and looking after his companion. Harry easily covered his mind and fished for thoughts.

The elf was as vain as he sounded. First memory Harry caught was of the elf looking into a mirror and brushing his hair. The second was of the elf in front of the same mirror and looking at which outfit he should wear. Then he got a snippet where the elf was sneering at some other creature which turned out to be a wounded man on a healers bed. Then the elf was again in front of that mirror...

Harry sighed. This was just his luck.

On the other hand, it didn't seem like the elf had any defenses around his mind so he delved deeper.

"lhû muindor!" His target under the tree suddenly shouted.

Harry stumbled back. He had gotten some of what he was looking for but not nearly what he wanted. The language begun to make sense though.

"return... wood is speaking... come... hear it, brother?"

'Wood is speaking?' Harry thought that odd. Then again, he had felt something when he climbed his tree and he had sort of heard something.

Now the other elf had returned and the two were talking while watching around.

"they sing... of a lost one... close... treasure?" The elf's voice was wary.

Harry frowned. He still didn't understand all the words.

'Hmm, it seems they can understand the trees. Wood speaks of a someone who is nearby. The only one here besides the twits was him so...'

'Bloody traitorous pile of firewood!' Harry fumed and wanted to smack the tree he was on. It should keep its thoughts to itself and stop gossiping.

He was very tempted to simply either stun both elves and have his wicked way with them or plunge in their minds and find what he wanted to know. Preferably before this chatty tree got its message through.

Now that he knew what he was looking for, he could feel a sort of connection coming from the trees or maybe it was the same mist that seemed to be everywhere. It felt similar in color than what surrounded the elves and that apparently meant they could communicate on some level. Though it didn't really explain why he felt anything from the plant.

Harry knew he would need to get away from here but not too far. He only needed a safer ground. The elves were the only other things on two legs besides him that he had seen in days. He was not done with them yet. Harry had a feeling that while he was in contact with the trees, they would try to give him away and getting away from trees in a forest was of course the easiest thing in the world.

Maybe the elves were a bit like Neville. Having an affinity with the earth and thus plants. It was supposed to be a Longbottom blood trait. But Neville had never said anything about talking with trees.

Harry peeked at the two blonds, standing straight under him now. He would have to be both fast and sneaky if he wanted to avoid an obliviation. Assuming you could obliviate an elf. He certainly didn't know how to obliviate a tree but he would be investigating that in the near future. Now if only he didn't leave his bladder behind.

He weaved a net of confundus charm on the air and let it float down towards the unsuspecting elves underneath. He waited for the right moment and then apparated fifty feet right to a more rocky ground where a patch of bedrock rose above the ground. There was few bushes and bigger rocks which he could hide behind.

His bed was still on the tree but under the charms. Harry hoped that now that he wasn't there, the trees couldn't help the elves anymore.

He felt pressure from around him. While he apparated the mist begun to swirl.

'lost'

Even he could hear it in the air now. It was as if a chorus of high pitched fairies was saying it together.

The wood was disappointed of having lost track of him. It sounded peculiar to him. To actually hear trees humming.

The elves were also looking around puzzled. Well, the other was. The one that looked shorter and also seemed a bit too observant. Harry's first plan had sort of worked so he decided to do it again. His thread of magic soon reached the pretty boy and then the elf went prancing in another direction. The self-absorbed one shouted something after the other and then just shrugged when he got no answer.

Harry's target was a bit far so he used a light compulsion spell to lure the pompous elf closer. Then, on a whim, he decided to test the theory whether that shiny skin could repel a stunner.

The elf actually woke from his earlier to spell when he noticed a red stunner heading at him. But he only managed to twitch his hand towards his sword before he went down.

'It seems the magic against them works better from rocky ground. Never would've thought that,' Harry pondered while he ran behind some bushes close by. He really, really needed to go.

Much relieved and knowing time was of the essence, soon the other one would return, Harry sprang on the elf and looked into deep blue eyes.

He already knew what sort of person this elf was and tried to avoid most recent memories. Unfortunately he was taken far deeper into the mind than he had ever experienced.

Harry felt overwhelmed. He was trying to look how to speak their language but memories of the elf's younger years were flying through his own mind. What the elf had learned and studied. His family. Their journey towards the undying lands.

It soon became obvious that the elf had a lot of memories, dozen times more, three dozen times more or thirty times more than normal human. Harry felt himself becoming lost there. He was seeing too much and couldn't stop. He had to know what these elves were for they certainly weren't normal.

He was whisked away from another set of memories and he blanched when the memories told him that elves were immortal. He understood why the mind was so vast and why the elves could act like they did. Bored of everything and feeling superior to others. He stumbled across very little compassion in this elf's head.

Harry could later admit to himself that he had panicked. He desperately tried to pull back but his connection to himself was almost nonexistent. He fleetingly worried how much in disarray he left the elf's mind but it seemed to correct and organize itself back. Which only made sense because no one who had lived that long could afford to keep all the memories either active or disorganized. Some sort of occlumency seemed to be instinctual to them.

Harry felt himself pushing the memories away, he stumbled through the languages the elf knew but he didn't have time or talent to take them all. Snippets from there and there. He wasn't even sure if he was moving towards himself.

'calm, concentrate,' he thought to himself and halted. It was like he was deep in an ocean, everywhere was dark, everything seemed the same. Memory blocks assaulted him but luckily the elf wasn't awake and so couldn't focus. Harry tried to reach himself and that was when he finally felt it. A golden leash that was connected to him.

When he felt he reached the surface of the mind, he was immensely relieved. And in pain. His own mind was now a mess. It seemed his legilimency skills, that worked a lot by instinct, had gathered information bits without much connections. For instance he now knew that this elf liked to talk Quenya, a language that elves used to use but not here, not in this land. Only after they had departed and travelled to peace did they start to use it. In elven lands. But this one here did it to spite others, to show he was better. He wanted to show off. His lord had said he was not ready to leave but the elf itself felt resentment. After all the elf, Erewan, thought he should've made a better lord of his family. Not that he wanted to be one, he just would've been better. Maybe Harry should've picked the other one who at least seemed to have some sense of humour. This one felt like Percy Weasley combined with Narcissa Malfoy.

The elf, Erewan, was shallow, self-satisfied, arrogant and blockheaded twit, Harry decided as he gasped for air and returned to himself.

~o~

Harry watched from behind the rocks as the other elf, Celedryl, returned.

He looked for his brother and then rushed to his side when he noticed he was lying on the ground.

"Erawan! Brother, wake up!" Celedryl kneed besides his brother, his hands looking for more injuries than the obvious bump in the head. Harry had added it in order to make it look like as if the other elf had just stumbled.

Erewan groaned.

"Brother! You had me worried," Celedryl sounded relieved.

"Leave off Celedryl. I am in pain. What happened?"

"I do not know. Do you not remember?"

"No," Erewan snapped and sat up. It seemed he was back to his charming self. "Can you see a bruise? I hope not."

"Only you brother would worry such a thing," Celedryl smiled. "It seems you are not so sure of foot anymore. Perhaps you should stay off the hills. Ada will find this story very amusing. His pride and joy, stumbling like some common man."

Erewan snarled and pushed himself up.

Harry had even added marks in the moss where the elf supposedly slipped. He didn't dare to try an obliviate on such a mind, he might have either overpowered or erased far too much or then there might be no effect at all. But he had scrambled the newest memories to pieces. Lost around the vast mind, hiding behind centuries of old and almost forgotten memories. That, to an elf, could be compared to a memory spell. Or at least Harry hoped so. There was very little chance of the memory ever coming together and surfacing.

His own comprehension of the elven language was improving by the moment. He was trying to concentrate on the two but the newly acquired information was pushing around inside his own mind. It was difficult to assimilate it. It didn't feel similar to the orc's but Harry had as bad view of it. The rapid pace he went through everything inside his mind also meant that he made instant decision to lose some of them. He didn't need to know what the elf had eaten a fortnight ago. And there was so much more to go through so that he could banish the head ache.

Harry remembered a snippet of the elves father. Erewan remembered proudly times when he saw his father in battle. There was blood everywhere and later that night the elves celebrated their fierce and talented warriors, although in Harry's opinion there was little to celebrate. War was stupid and often pointless. He should know. No one ever won.

While harry's opinion on the elven race had found new lows, the two brothers had started arguing.

"Rac pé," Erewan spat.

Harry really was getting tired of these two. The best insult the other could come up with was 'gossiper'. And what was the deal using that older language. It was like Hermione had been in their first year. He loved that girl, but he suspected that at times she just wanted smugly to point out that everyone else were just more stupid than she.

Celedryl chastised his brother but the tips of his ears were looking a little red. Obviously there was some truth in the accusations.

"Perhaps I at times wish to delegate information forth but that is only to the benefit of all. Imagine, if not I, then that scandal in the halls of our king's castle would have been left unresolved."

"My silver tongued brother, it was you who started that scandal," Erewan helpfully pointed out.

Harry kept an eye on the two for an hour. The brothers had a task of checking the southern border of their land. They didn't seem to regard the task as an honor or important duty.

"We might come upon some easterlings here. They are not as peace-loving as men at the …."

"Celedryl, I would not bother to do such separation amongst men. Nor with a man, an orch or a dwarf. They are all the same. Foul and greedy," the other snobbishly pointed out.

"You have not met a man in a century, Erewan. You should not have reason to complain. Think of the elves in Rivendell. My, they live so close to men village that they see them practically daily," the other responded almost teasingly but clearly also thinking the men were something to scrape off the soles of his boots.

Erewan sniffed.

By this time Harry was certain of his conclusions. Elves were clearly idiots and bigots. Pretty to look at but like Veela, they held none of that beauty beneath the surface. In their case, literally.

'It was nice to know', Harry thought as he followed them going away, 'that even when things changed, some things stayed the same. Bloody blonde pricks.'

Harry had had enough. There was nothing more he could learn from these two. Their race obviously held some power here, which was no wonder considering they seemed to live for thousands of years. It would be best for him to avoid them all. It should be rather easy considering they regarded themselves so high above others that they lived in their cities and rarely left them. That made them a dying race.

He couldn't just let them leave though. It wasn't fair to leave two idiots such as these without attention. They deserved some Karma. So, before Harry sneaked away, he sent a tiny bit of magic at both of them.

Satisfied, he turned to continue on his journey. He could still hear them panicking when he was hundreds of yards away. He didn't think it was that unbearable for the two to walk around few weeks... or maybe months around with a couple of green spots in their hair.

~o~

Now Harry had a lot more to think about while he tried to clear the forest. Luckily he had not yet met any trolls or giant spiders that seemed to run rampant around this Silvan Woodland realm. Or at least that was what Erewan's memories had insisted it be instead of the more commonly used Mirkwood. Harry liked the latter better.

He had just managed to make some sense of the orc's thoughts and now he had an immense amount of memories more. He could still feel the sensation as if he was losing himself. He was sure any human would've which begged to question why hadn't he? This wasn't something he thought his magic could've helped with. If his magic was the answer then how come all that he had taken upon himself was still there? He had faced similar troubles before, not in legilimency but always his magic had simply eviscerated that which was too much for him.

"Maybe I am changing... It must be this place," Harry pondered.

He had mainly tried to reaffirm from the elf's memories if his geography of this place was right and acquire some details of other beings. Erewan had lived most of his life in Mirkwood, as could be expected from an elf and he had fought in wars north of there. Their much hated enemies were the Dwarfs. Erewan seemed to think the Dwarfs were responsible for the increased orc activity and that they liked to assassinate any elf they came across. Actually the Dwarfs seemed pretty much responsible for eggs burning in Erewans breakfast yesterday. Perhaps the biggest issue in the elf's mind was that the Dwarfs absolutely refused to admit that elves were superior to them. In Harry's book, that already made the Dwarfs good enough to meet. Unfortunately he didn't have the time and meeting them would force him go through the elven city which was a big no-no.

The only thing about the elves that Harry enjoyed was their language. Even Quenya felt right. When he tried talking the language, it sounded as if he was singing.