Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

AN:

1. I realized while writing this chapter that the timeline I've been following was really erroneous…. I was lazy, I didn't bother researching the timeline I found on a site, and it made sense, so I've been following that… Technically some of the events are very off time-wise, please ignore it. (I also like Harry being over 2000 years old, so I don't want to change it….) Put it off as AU, creative license, whatever… Thanks!

2. I also happened upon another reference to Galadriel and Celeborn being King and Queen of Lothlórien. I know a number of people have objected to my calling them that, but I am going to from now on. The reference is: (Tolkien: The Illustrated Encyclopedia, Page 249). I consider that cannon, as it was made from research of Tolkien's work. If you don't like that, I'm sorry, but this is my story, and I have every right to use it. Thank you.

Ok… I'm done. Enjoy the chapter! Jess S

There and Back Again

Chapter 10: Marta, Part I

By Jess S

Harry eyed the young wizard speculatively. He'd known that he would eventually have to tell his childhood relations of his new self, though he could honestly say he'd never thought he might start with Malfoy, but then, he didn't have to. One quick, precise obliviation and Draco Malfoy would forget all about what he'd just seen…

But was that what he wanted?

Was Ránëwén right? Was he intentionally, albeit subconsciously, hiding?

He didn't think so…but then, who could tell? His Elven wife knew him better then anyone - for obvious reasons - and if she thought he wanted to hide…well there was a very good chance that at least a part of him did…

But he didn't want to…which meant they had to start with telling someone…and Malfoy was probably the one, out of the DA, at least, that would become suspicious first - being a Slytherin, he'd be at least a few steps ahead of Hermione - so he was actually a good place to start.

"Draco," Harry nodded, careful to keep his tone and expression neutral. "Would you care to join us for morning tea? Perhaps a spot of breakfast?"

The Malfoy Household's heir blinked, but other then that showed no signs of any sort of surprise. After a moment, he nodded and made his way over to the table they'd been standing near; a table that was still laden with and extraordinary about of food.

Nonetheless, it was relatively clean. Obviously at least one of the house elves had been at work while he and Ránëwén had been talking. Their breakfast plates were clean and reset, just like everything else. And a third place setting was waiting for them when they reached the table.

After sitting down, the blonde raised a speculative eyebrow as the Gryffindor wizard held the Elf-maiden's chair for her. He continued to watch the other wizard as he made his way to the final setting, which was right next from the Elf.

Harry offered him a pleasant - meant to be disarming - smile, gesturing to the food before picking up the steaming teapot that had just appeared before him and beginning to fill Violet's cup. "Help yourself…"

'Oh, that's how it's going to be, is it?' Draco Malfoy realized speculatively.

He wasn't a stranger to games of power. He was both a Slytherin and a Malfoy, after all. This was a game he'd been born into, and raised to play.

'But Potter wasn't…' he carefully suppressed a frown, turning his own teacup right side up, to indicate his preference of beverage, before beginning to move food onto his plate. He hadn't had breakfast yet, instead choosing to come directly here after receiving his father's letter.

There wasn't any real way he could have know whether or not Potter would be here at the time, but he'd suspected that he would be. And if he hadn't been, well, Draco didn't have any problem with asking the Elf to relay the message. It would only give him a little more time to research her, after all.

That had all changed when he'd entered the room though…

He hadn't heard much, but they had been in a rather intimate position…and they'd obviously been talking about something important, and were as of yet unaware of what he'd heard.

Well he wasn't going to tell them. He wasn't stupid. He'd learn far more if he just listened to them try to figure out what he had heard.

To say that Ránëwén Galathil of Lothlórien was amused would have been a severe understatement. No, amusement didn't cover her view of her husband's interaction with his childhood rival…

She knew that this was serious, but it wasn't anywhere near as serious as some of the more perilous positions they'd been in before… Even this child, who was both clever and magically gifted, wasn't a hazard when compared to the plights that plagued her homeland.

What's more, this was the perfect opportunity for Harry to get everything (or at least most of it) out into the open. She didn't like all of this secrecy. She understood where some of it was necessary, but much of it could be avoided.

It wasn't that she wasn't used to being kept from him. No, Ránëwén knew that feeling far too well. She hadn't met him when he'd first come to her people. No, she'd been staying with her mother's kin in Imladris. The Elf-maiden had, of course, heard about him. All of the nobility had. It wasn't every day that the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood fostered a son, after all. Of course, she would've heard of him anyway, as she was one of Arwen Undómiel's closest friends. And the Evenstar had been there when he'd arrived. So, while it was kept secret, all of the Galadhrim and the Elven aristocracy, bar a few, had been well aware of his existence.

That had only added to her anticipation of reaching the Golden Wood when she'd gone homeward bound. But, to her disappointment, she hadn't gotten the chance to meet him then. He'd already left to see the world, under her dear uncle's guardianship, no less.

Harry hadn't returned to the Golden Wood until just after the fifth century of the Third Age began, and by that time she'd already returned to Imladris to conclude her instruction in the Elven customs of nobility, with Arwen. That wasn't uncommon. Some children didn't like to study something on their own, so it wasn't unusual for a parent to receive a request for their child to join another for tutelage. The request had, of course, gone to Haldir, because both of her parent's were already dead at the time.

For those reasons, Ránëwén had never been allowed the chance to meet him until 965 TA. It was then that she'd returned to Lothlórien, a mature, and fully educated Elven lady.

It'd come as more then a bit of a shock when she met her soul mate only moments after returning to the Galadhrim, and found that he was none other then the Galadriel's foster-son, and therefore Prince of the Galadhrim...

Harry had at first been delighted by the bond as she had. Soul bonds, the peculiar links that made people aware of their true soul mate, were a rare blessing, and one that all Elves adored. However, he'd quickly come to realize that if they married, Ron, Hermione, Ginny…and all of his friends from his youth, the people he'd always expected to see at his wedding, wouldn't be there. This caused him to fall into a state of uncertainty; he simply didn't know how to go on with their relationship. So the young prince had decided to go wandering again, to give both of them time to think about it...

The ninety-one years he spent in Imladris, the Shire, Gondor, Isengard and many places in between had been sheer torture for both of them. He'd kept wandering aimlessly, trying to find a purpose that might make resisting the pull bearable, but he hadn't been able to. Even fighting alongside a king in war and somehow gaining access to the oldest records of the Istari arts hadn't helped him last long.

After all his journeying, Harry had returned to Lothlórien in 809 with a heavy heart... still not sure if he was ready to face her, his soul mate, and reached the Galadhrim only to discover that she'd left for Imladris once again, a short time before.

Ránëwén, herself, had managed to last much longer. She had been only nine years short of eleven hundred years. She'd spent the time helping Arwen and had even visited Eryn Lasgalen, the realm of King Thranduil.

The Greenwood's Prince had been off adventuring somewhere when she'd been a guest in his homeland. They had actually already met, in Imladris, but they hadn't happened upon any real opportunities for conversation during his short visit. She had hoped to give him another chance, as Arwen, and both sets of twins, Arwen's brothers and Ránëwén's cousins, got on so well with him. But she'd only been there a short time before Thranduil had managed to talk her into accompanying him to the Lothlórien.

After some discussion, they finally determined that their bond was very real, and agreed to wed. That had result in one of the greatest celebrations the Golden Wood had ever seen. No one could find any objections to the union, and no one wanted to. So it hadn't been long before they were ready for Galadriel to perform the elvish wedding ceremony.

Most of the Galadhrim had remained outside the Grove during the ceremony, waiting to congratulate them afterwards. Only eleven individuals had witnessed the wedding itself; Lady Galadriel, who had performed the ceremony, Lord Celeborn, Haldir, who had escorted her to the ceremony in her father's place, Lord Elrond, Arwen, Elrohir, Elladan, Rúmil and Camthalion; who, as Violet's second cousins, were her closest living relatives after her uncle, Lord Glorfindel a distant relation on her mother's side, and King Thranduil.

The Elf smiled softly as she thought back to that day. Even now, more then five centuries later, it remained the happiest day of her life. At that time, there hadn't seemed to be any problem they could not overcome, together. Everyone had been so happy…

Flashback

There are few things that can compare to an Elven bonding ceremony in magnificence and optimism. Elven celebrations were always beautiful in their own right, a combination of the people's fairness, their charming clothes, correlation with nature, and fondness for light. But, there was something that set a bonding apart.

It wasn't just the rareness of such an occasion…. When a bonding rite was completed, it was cause for all who know of it to rejoice. This ceremony was the creation of a bond that would last throughout all of eternity, so long as the bearers remained loyal to the light…

"Though I wish Legolas could've seen this, I-Eryn Lasgalen horta maar merne." The Wood of Green-leaves sends its good wishes. King Thranduil sighed, before offering both of them a kind smile. "I am pleased for both of you, and wish you the best of luck."

"Hannon le…" The newlywed's murmured quietly, offering reticent, but nonetheless pleased smiles.

"To show our appreciation of this union," Thranduil continued, nodding to one of the maids that came with him for the occasion, causing her to approach, and elegantly crafted box in her possession. "We offer this gift."

Both smiled, and Ránëwén accepted the box when the maid stopped in front of her. After receiving a nod and a warm smile from her new husband, she carefully opened the box, and gasped.

Inside were two gorgeous crowns of Elanor and Lissium blossoms.

If they'd been thinking analytically, they might've wondered how the Elves of the Greenwood came upon so many 'star-sun' blossoms, the fair winter flowers that only grew in the Golden Wood, but then again, this was a long-established gift for wedding ceremonies, so it wouldn't have been surprising if the Lord and Lady had donated them for the task.

The sweet-smelling Lissium and the golden, star-shaped Elanor were among the most beautiful flowers of Middle Earth, most of which the Eldar had brought with them, as gifts to the mortals, when they first started coming to Middle Earth from Valinor.

The aromatic Lissium' and the starflowers were long used by the Elves to weaved garlands meant to be worn as crowns at the celebratory banquet that followed the wedding. More often than not, the bride's family prepared the coronets, but it wasn't unusual for the rulers of another Elven Kingdom to weave them in appreciation for the good fortune of another Kingdom's rulers.

While Harry wasn't a Galadhrim prince by birth, he was still the Galadhrim's Prince in the hearts of all his people, so this occasion certainly counted. What's more, it was easy to recognize how important this was to the rulers of the Golden Wood. Since the tragedy that had quickly resulted in their daughter's early departure for the Undying Lands, they had essentially been childless.

Oh, they did have Arwen, Elladen and Elrohir, but they were there grandchildren…it wasn't quite the same. What's more, Arwen could only stay here so long, and Elladen and Elrohir hardly ever had time to visit…they still felt too much pain at the loss of their mother to visit their grandparents, who so closely resembled her. Princess Celebrían had been their daughter in every way, and it was just too painful for the twins to be near them when they felt that they had yet to avenge their mother's 'death'. They had, of course, come to this ceremony, but they wouldn't remain any longer then they usually did…

Harry had arrived a short year after Celebrían's departure, and had been quickly accepted into the Galadriel and Celeborn's house, as the son they'd never had. Technically, though, Elrond was a son to them, as their son-in-law, not quite the same thing, but close. And today was special to them for that reason. Today, they accepted a new daughter in to their home and hearts…

It wouldn't be easy, she knew. She'd been very young when Lady Celebrían had left these shores, but she still remembered the princess's innate grace and beauty. She had been a true lady. Everything about her defined the title. Ránëwén knew she didn't really stand a chance of meeting the standard the true Princess of Lothlórien had set, long ago. But she would do her best to help her people, her in laws, and her husband…there was little more she could do…

End of Flashback

"Well…?"

Violet blinked, brought out of her reverie by the young wizard's breaking of the silence. She picked up the teapot and carefully poured each of them a cup of the Elven brew (she'd given some to the House Elves, to be served for them), while he looked at them.

"Well what, Draco?" Harry asked, nodding his thanks to his wife as she set the teapot down, before taking his teacup in hand and taking a slow, soothing draught.

The Slytherin, rather uncharacteristically, snorted. "You know what, Potter. Even Gryffindors aren't that thick."

Harry released a soft, amused laugh. "Indeed…" after taking another sip of his tea, he raised an eyebrow. "What do you want to know?"

"What the hell's going on?!" Draco growled, glaring at the raven-haired wizard. "I have every right to. I've been straight forward with both of you, it's hardly fair for you to refuse to do the same!"

"He has a point, melda nin." Violet offered quietly, continuing to stir her tea half-mechanically, as she'd been doing for the last few minutes, while watching the exchange.

"He does…" Harry agreed with a sigh, bringing his teacup up once again, this time choosing to drain the two-thirds of the cup that were left.

Draco blinked, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Huh?"

"You're right," Harry offered, his voice far more neutral than one might expect. After all, this was Harry Potter admitting to Draco Malfoy that the other was right…something that under different circumstances -- a year past, perhaps -- never would've happened. After another moment's silence, Harry opened his mouth, presumably to continue. But then, he stopped, and closed his mouth before turning his head slightly towards the door.

Violet blinked in surprise. Now that he'd actually drawn her attention to it, she could hear, and feel, someone…no…two people, approaching; something she hadn't been even slightly aware of a mere moment prior. That wasn't like her. Indeed, it was very unusual for any elf to be so unaware of the surroundings… Perhaps this magical, mortal world was affecting her more then she'd thought…then again, she was only an Elven lady, and had no where near the training in combat that her husband possessed.

She was forced from her worried thoughts when the door to the Room of Requirement slammed open, and Ron and Hermione skidded to a halt, panting. Apparently they'd run all they way here from a considerable distance. A puzzled frown crossed her fair features a moment later, when she noticed the strange piece of parchment clutched tightly in the young redhead's fist. Violet could sense the magic that was an intricate part of it, but she couldn't really tell what it was for…

"Is i--" Ron stopped short, his eyes locking on the blonde wizard seated at the breakfast table with them. "Malfoy! What are you doing here?"

"I'm eating breakfast, Weasley."

Hermione cut in before the two could start arguing. "Harry, V-Violet…Is it true?"

Harry frowned, "Is what true?"

"Is Violet really your wife?" the brunette demanded.

For a moment the blonde Slytherin stared at her in open shock, before bursting out laughing. It was a few moments before he was able to get a hold of himself once more. "That's a good one, Granger! Potter, married? He's only fifteen, just like the rest of us… And open… affection doesn't necessarily constitute marriage…"

"Yes, yes, and no." Harry's quiet murmur cut the appending argument off before it had begun, and drew the stares off all three teens to him.

"What?" Ron inquired, openly puzzled.

"I was just answering your questions, disagreeing with one part of Malfoy's statement, and agreeing with another. "Yes, it's true. Yes, Violet is my wife. And no, I am no longer fifteen."

"Well," Severus Snape's sarcastic drawl brought an end to the state of stunned silence that had held the room for several moments past. "That was certainly helpful…"

For once, Sirius Black made no effort to disagree with the Slytherin Head, instead choosing to demand an end to the confusion the Seer had caused. "What in Merlin's name did she mean?"

"I do not know," Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head as everyone turned to him for an explanation. "As far as I knew, there had been nothing unusual about Harry's summer prior to his family's move into the city."

"He's different, though," Remus murmured, shaking his head. "We all know that… She said he'd no longer a child, and, in a way, I think we all sensed that…"

Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement. "He matured a great deal, and managed to reign in his growing temper…" she shook her head, "I was honestly expecting that he would have a great deal of trouble this year, due to the events of the last, the Ministry, the press and whatnot. But… it doesn't seem to affect him at all. And he's excelling in all of his classes…even you have to admit that," she finished, nodding to the Potions Master, whose angular face bore a familiar scowl.

"Indeed…"

"Perhaps we should review what little she said?" Kingsley Shacklebolt offered, shrugging his shoulders. "We might be able to pick something out of it."

"True, true," the Hogwarts' Headmaster nodded, frowning slightly. "She wasn't here long but, from what I can recall, she mentioned much that may be of interest to us."

"Potter went on a excursion somewhere, during this past summer, that we were ignorant of." Snape began with a nod.

The Gryffindor Head continued, "It changed him…"

"He's chosen not to tells us about it," Tonks, whose hair was currently a peculiar shade of green, down to her shoulders.

Remus nodded in agreement, "And because of that, something is stopping Ms. Vatis from telling us…or she simply isn't willing to."

"Which really doesn't make sense, considering how fond Seers generally are of talking about things they've 'Seen'." Shacklebolt offered, and several people rolled their eyes in agreement.

"Which points to the fact that she may have made it up," Professor McGonagall pointed out.

"No," Dumbledore shook his head. "Althea is not like most Seer's. She has a great deal more power then most, and is honest to a fault, it would go against her very nature to have pulled that degree of treachery on us…"

"Which is why she left, she didn't want to be cornered into lying." Snape realized.

"Yes," the Headmaster nodded in agreement.

"She said he's not a child anymore…far from it…what'd that mean?" Sirius inquired, his voice somewhat choked. "I know he's been through a lot, but…he's still only fifteen!"

"Maybe not…" Everyone turned to look at Alastor Moody. "Maybe that's what she was saying…not only does he have new abilities, he has experience, too…He's not fifteen anym--"

"That's impossible" Sirius broke in with growl. "Even if he went to someplace where time passes differently…Then…Then he wouldn't look like he was fifteen, he--"

"He doesn't…" Tonks shook her head when they all looked at her. "That's what you all said after you'd had supper with him this summer. "He looks and acts older…Maybe he is…"

"But how much older?" Her commander murmured, easily following her train of thought.

"You…you're not?" Hermione blinked at him dazedly, frowning. "B-But…you…How?"

Harry offered a small laugh, shaking his head bemusedly. "I'm afraid that tale will take much more time then we have, but I can give you the basics of it," he waved to the table, where two more place setting had, at some point in time, appeared. "If you'll join us for breakfast…"

After a moment's hesitation, both Gryffindors made there way over to the table, and Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron made rather obvious efforts to be as far away from Draco Malfoy as was humanly possible.

"What's going on, Harry?" Hermione demanded after a moment's silence.

"Tea?" the green-eyed wizard inquired with a winsome smile, gesturing to the tea set and the teacups in front of them. Then he sighed as both responded with similar glares. "If you're going to be like this, there isn't much incentive for me to tell you anything."

The youngest of the Weasley brothers immediately protested, "We're your best friends!"

"You're acting more like antagonists than friends, at the moment," Malfoy offered with a down toned version of his usual smirk, obviously his heart wasn't in it.

"And what is he doing here?" Ron demanded, glaring at the blonde. "He--" the redhead stop as the Violet began speaking in Elvish.

"Er'hyn nyarya, melda nin." Just tell them, beloved.

Harry sighed, meeting his wife's twilight shaded eyes. Technically she was a year younger that he was, but it rarely seemed like that. She was always the wiser, elder one. Particularly when matters of the heart were involved. "Be iest lîn," He conceded, turning to meet two blatantly probing gazes, and one that was still reasonably curious. "A great deal has happened to me…since the end of the last school year."

"Because of the Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Ron queried.

Harry almost shook his head, but then frowned, considering it. After a moment, the head shake did come, "No, not really."

"How did you learn Elvish?" Hermione demanded when he appeared to be drifting off into thought.

"Pardon?" Harry blinked at her.

"I've been trying to study it since the last D.A. meeting, it's one of the languages we've been studying in Ancient Runes, and even with Professor Erilis's help, it's one of the most difficult languages we've come across! How did you become fluent in it only a few weeks time?! Even with some amount of emersion, I would think it's be possible!"

AN: J.K. Rowling has yet to introduce us to, or even name the Ancient Rune's or the Muggle Studdies professors, so I decided to give the Ancient Rune's Professor a name (as Hermione wouldn't go around calling her professor 'the Ancient Runes Professor', if she was in their class, or even if she wasn't). She's a witch, and her name's Loquella Erilis, see the Translations at the end to find out what that means, if you're interested.

Harry broke out laughing a moment after she'd finished. It took his several moments to regain control of himself, but he really couldn't help it. 'Only Hermione,' he thought, as he offered the overachiever a kind smile. "It took much more than a few weeks, 'Mione." He held up a hand to delay her protests, "It took nearly ten years, don't you think, melda nin?"

"Yes, give or take a season," Violet replied with a soft smile. "Although I can only go by what the other Galadhrim told me."

"Would you please stop that?" Ron interrupted, praying they weren't talking about anything glare-worthy. "And what'd you mean nearly ten years? You started studying it when you were five? I'd think we would've noticed something like that, mate."

"No," Harry replied in the same quiet, measured tone as before, while watching the steam rise off his tea. "I started studying it when I was fifteen."

"But you're fifteen now!"

"No, as I told you before, I am not. Not anymore." The last of the Potter line replied, shaking his head slightly, looking up to meet three sets of identically stunned gazes. "I'm two-thousand-one-hundred-and-fifty-nine."

For several moments afterward, no one spoke. Harry and Violet were studying their young friends stunned expressions, while the other three were far too taken aback to say anything.

"Something happened on my fifteenth birthday," Harry told them, breaking the weighty quietus. "Voldemort was torturing some Muggles -- about half a dozen, as a mockery of my birthday. I'd opened the present all of you had sent me -- which really were great, by the way," he paused a moment, struggling to remember what had happened. "Your mum had sent me a cake, Ron. A cake with candles that lit themselves."

Ron nodded, frowning as he quietly replied, "A wishing cake…" then his eyes widened, as did the eyes of the other two fifteen year olds in the Room.

"An Opto Defluo?" Hermione demanded, clearly amazed.

The redhead nodded, "Yeah, mum thought it was the best thing she could offer… Her family was one of the few that knew the recipe, though she hadn't made it in years…" he frowned, "So you…?"

"I blew out the candles, at midnight, at the start of my birthday."

"And because you were in pain," Hermione summarized, her eyes wide, "and your magic was at a high point; midnight and your birthday, the cake went to great lengths to grant your wish…"

Harry nodded, "I wanted to be someplace safe…where the pain would stop…"

"Where did you go?" the brunette inquired quietly, "I wouldn't think any place on this world…"

"It wasn't on Earth," he nodded, "It sent me to the woods of Lothlórien, on Middle Earth. Where I met the Eldar, and was welcomed into their world."

"Another dimension…?" Ron breathed, clearly as awed as Hermione, and Draco, were.

When Harry nodded, Hermione shook her head in wonderment. "That's why you're so different… And why you could be so much older… You didn't physically belong in that world, right?"

"So I wasn't mortal," Harry nodded, "yes."

"And now?" Malfoy asked, his tone far more taciturn than the others had ever heard.

"I am mortal."

Hermione looked at Violet, her eyes wide. "And…?"

The Elf shook her head, "I am not. I am still an immortal."

"Then why'd you come?" Ron frowned, shaking his head, "You gave up immortality for…" he stopped, looking at Harry.

"You'll find you're capable of quite a bit more then you every imagined possible, when you're in love…" Violet offered with a kind smile.

"Well?" the Dark Lord demanded angrily, glaring at the witch across the table.

She did not look up, not that it would've helped her much; she was blind to the physical world, after all, so she didn't waste her time with pretended. Instead, she focused her sight inward, to the true Sight, the Sight of a seer.

It was a rare occasion indeed that would find the Heir of Salazar Slytherin calling upon anyone, and the quaint surrounding hardly presented themselves to the favor. The small room was furnished with antiques that were probably as archaic as the dust and grime they boasted. The air was thick with a heady bouquet of Sight inducers.

"Thee with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord has come…" the Seer murmured after nearly an hour of gazing sightlessly into the glowing crystal ball.

"Potter?"

"Born when the seventh month died…"

"Potter!"

"He has changed from what we once knew…"

"Obviously," Voldemort growled.

"He has powers neither the Dark Lord nor the Bumblebee know…"

"Powers?"

Suddenly the light in the crystal ball faded, before vanishing completely, and the Seer leaned back in her chair, breathing heavily.

"What did you mean by powers?"

She looked towards him, and blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"You said that Potter has powers that neither I, nor Dumbledore, know of. What powers?"

"He's changed…" the Seer frowned.

"Obviously, but what powers?"

The witch shrugged. "I don't know."

"What do you mean?!"

"I couldn't see anything on the lower level," she sighed, "Something's protecting him… I had to go much deeper. When a Seer delves -- intentionally or unintentionally -- into the Deeper Sight, they rarely have any recollection of it… I didn't really tell you anything. The Darkness did, I was simply its instrument."

"You didn't hear anything?"

The Seer shrugged, "It would have told me if I wanted to know for myself, but I was looking for you, so you were the one that It spoke to. My memory of the last half-hour or so is a haze of Darkness."

"I see…" the Dark Lord murmured, thinking it over. After a moment he nodded, rising to his feet, "Well done, Mallux, you have been most helpful."

"I try, Dark one."

Several weeks later didn't see the Order of the Phoenix any better off then they had previously been. If anything, they're condition had worsened. Voldemort had been very active as of late, and yet the Minster still refused to see anything, claiming that it was; one: unrelated hooligans or copycats. Or, more often, two: someone Dumbledore put up to, to cause a panic.

"You have no idea of what he is up to, Severus?" Dumbledore inquired, frowning as the Hogwarts Potions Professor sunk tiredly back into the only chair in the room that had been vacant for quite some time.

"None," Snape replied wearily. "He's 'up to' something, but he has yet to tell us of what…he's even more suspicious than before, although, he's become quite a…busybody lately, as well. He never tells us what he's doing or why he wants us to do certain tasks."

"You can't…?"

"Ask?" the Slytherin House Head filled in when the younger order member broke off, "Only a suicidal fool would even consider that…or perhaps a Gryffindor, though I rarely see the difference."

Dumbledore intervened before an argument could start up between the long-time rivals present. "Very well, we'll have to try other means, then…" He turned to Kingsley Shacklebolt, "Kingsley?"

The dark-skinned Auror shook his head, sighing resignedly. "There's been an appalling increase in Dark activity, but very little that can be pinned to anybody."

The other Auror's present nodded in agreement.

"You can discover nothing specifically linked to Voldemort?" the Headmaster inquired, no noticeable skepticism in his tone.

"No," Shacklebolt replied, his head shake mimicked by the other Order members of his profession. "Nothing…"

"Then," Dumbledore sighed, "I'm afraid we have a problem, as we seem to be rather blind."

Everyone present nodded in agreement, and a heavy silence slipped over the room as they tried to perceive an escape from their present dilemma.

After several moments, Sirius Black spoke up, albeit hesitantly. "What about Harry?"

This inquiry made almost everyone in the room blink in surprise, and their leader didn't appear any less surprised, for a change. "Pardon?"

"Has Harry had any visions?" the Wizarding fugitive queried.

"…Not that I am aware of…" the Headmaster frowned, considering. "Have you exchanged words with him recently?"

"Not since this summer, when we went to the Dursley's new townhouse…. It's a bit odd," Sirius shook his head, "by this time last year I'd exchanged a number of letters with him, most of them were while he was at the Dursleys…but even while he was here, in school, he wrote to me, a bit."

"Indeed…" Dumbledore murmured, then nodded after a moment's thought. "Perhaps you should write to him yourself, inquiring?"

End Chapter 10.

Translations:

Marta - Fated

Loquella Erilis - master/mistress of language (f.)

"Be iest lîn" -- It literally means; "According to your wish," but you should know it from the first movie as; "As you wish."

Opto Defluo - to choose/to wish for…of the gifts of heaven.

Mallux - Dark eyesight She's a Seer for evildoers.

AN: Hi everybody!

Well, I must say, the reviews for the last chapter were a nice surprise! 53 Reviews in roughly 2 weeks! (At least I think that's how many are there… did something strange, and now I think there are some reviews for another chapter mixed in with the previous one, so if I didn't post a reply or list you under the "thank you list", I really I am sorry, but I thought posting the chapter was more important than responding to every single review. But, anyway;) Bravo!

Personally, I prefer the next half. It's a bit fast-paced and confusing, but it's a defining moment in the story, and there's a lot of action, some more romance, and more Elves! So, I like it. And all that has to happen for you to see it is for twenty or more people to review! That's all! (Please note that one person leaving 20 reviews will be treated as one, as usual… Oh, and please say a little more than "Great story, please update!" Surely something in this chapter merits some comment!)

In response to a few complaints directly to myself, and the trouble has been causing, I'll be posting all Review Responses on the There and Back Again Mailing List from now on. Sorry for any trouble that may cause.

PLEASE REVIEW!

Bye!

Jess S