Summary: On July 31st 1988 Harry Potter went missing. Despite his searches, Albus Dumbledore couldn't find him and was not entirely convinced Harry was even alive. But now, in the summer of Voldemort's return he is coming back and with him he brings his Elven heritage, his desperation to escape an arranged marriage and the will to do things En Edhelen Min - The Elvish Way

En Edhelen Min

We all know Harry's story, so I shan't tire you with it, save to say that on his eighth birthday Harry discovered part of his heritage. Now, as we recall, he'd already discovered his wizarding heritage during times such as when he turned his teachers' hair blue or when he summoned Dudley's bicycle, but his other heritage had yet to be stirred.

It was on his eighth birthday when, at a visit to Vachery Pond in Surrey, trouble stirred…

The Daily Prophet

August 1st

Morning Edition

Page 32

'Vachery Pond', a popular muggle spot for family outings became a scene of tragedy yesterday when, for no apparent nor explained magical reason, the waters of Vachery Pond rapidly burst and expanded, submerging a five mile radius of the surrounding area.

The muggle authorities released a statement yesterday evening claiming that a previously hidden and unknown source of water underneath the 'Pond' was somehow breached causing an alarming rate of water to swell up from the source of water out into the open.

It has been confirmed that at least one hundred and fifty muggle families were drowned in the sudden onslaught of water with many more now listed as missing. Many homes were also destroyed during this event which….

Albus Dumbledore was not enjoying his luncheon break.

He all but dropped his sweetened cup of tea and rubbed his beard in an attempt to calm himself. Reaching for a quill and some parchment, he quickly scratched out a letter before holding it out for Fawkes to carry down to two members of his faculty, Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape, who quickly joined him in his office.

"My friends, I have tasks which I must ask of you." He stated. "Yesterday afternoon in Surrey, there was an accident involving a large body of water. It has been reported in the Daily Prophet that many muggles have drowned and, whilst I haven't heard anything from Mrs Figg, I am not totally convinced of Harry Potter's safety. I would like for you both to go to Surrey, investigate the area known as 'Vachery Pond' and locate Harry."

"Was it a magical accident?" Severus asked.

"Not according to the Prophet, no."

When Severus and Minerva arrived in Surrey they were dismayed and devastated respectively, to find that Little Whinging had been almost wholly submerged by the flood. All that remained of Little Whinging was a murky pool of dark grey water with floating debris of wooden doors and furniture. Amongst the furniture was the occasional child's toy and, much to their horror, the occasional victim of the flood, face down in the water, borne just on the surface, being collected by the emergency services into boats ready to be taken away for identification.

"Merlin." Severus swore. "It will be a miracle if he has survived."

"We have got to find him, Severus." Minerva stated, her Scottish brogue thick with determination as she transfigured a splintered vanity into a boat with oars. "You may row."

Severus did not complain as they stepped into the boat and he began to row deeper into the wreckage and devastation. He watched, managing to maintain an impartial expression, as his colleague cast spell after spell hoping to discover the whereabouts of, if not Harry and his family, then Privet Drive so they may at least be able to investigate where the Dursley family may been during the time of the accident.

"Oi! S'cuse me! Rescue boats only!"

Severus turned to sneer at the muggle in high-visual clothing carrying some manner of equipment he'd rather not ponder.

"Turn around and go back and wait on the sidelines with everyone else!"

"This is a rescue boat!" Minerva snapped. "We are searching for a little boy called Harry. He is only eight years' old."

"We have also been sent from Scotland to investigate the epicentre of the accident." Severus said, disdain thick in his voice.

"It's already been investigated." The man argued. "Results have even been in the papers."

"They did not consider what we are looking for. Should you wish to confirm the legitimacy of our presence you may contact our superior, Professor Dumbledore." Severus snapped. "Now stay out of our way."

"Have you got your documents?"

"None that we are required to show you." Minerva glared. "Severus, if you please."

Severus began rowing again, this time heading closer to Vachery Pond.

"Do you not wish to find Harry?"

"Something tells me the Potter brat will have been a part of this." Severus answered. "I can feel it in my bones."

Upon reaching the area where Vachery Pond was once contained they began casting all manner of spells to discover any latent magic. It was true that the ministry of magic were not alerted to any magical disturbances here but the professors knew well that the ministry tracked only wizarding magic and did not consider the magic of any other races to be of much importance.

After several hours, the sun began to set and Severus, who had been searching the bottom of the pond in a magical wetsuit and with a bubble head charm surfaced to speak with his colleague.

"There are a lot of corpses." He complained as he struggled back into the boat.

"Any of them Harry's?" She asked worriedly.

"No. I checked all the children, none have his scar." He said. "There is a trace of some sort of transportation magic right at the bottom of the pool. I also tested for this supposed under water off branch of the Thames the muggles are going on about. I found nothing."

"Did the magic resemble a portkey?"

Severus shook his head. "Nor apparition."

"Very well, let us return to Albus, he may want to take a look himself."

Harry coughed fitfully, trying to expel the excess water from his lungs. His skin was like ice and the chill had long since set into his bones, causing him to shudder fitfully on the soft hospital bed, only semi-aware of his surroundings.

"Tithenlas… Can you hear me?"

Harry groaned loudly in response, not even sure if it were he who was being addressed. "C-cold…" He complained.

The speaker lay a hand against the child's forehead, frowning in concern when he discovered the child' fever was still not down. His temperature had been soaring since the event which landed him here and had still yet to drop to an acceptable level.

"Drink this," The speaker ordered, "It will make you feel better."

Harry guzzled the liquid which entered his mouth, allowing his world to fade to black once more.

When Harry awoke again he felt no pressing discomfort and faced only blinding confusion. Where was he? How did he get here? Where were his family?

Too scared to cry out for help and not seeing anyone in the general vicinity he could talk to, he let sleep overpower him once more.

"He still sleeps?"

"Yes. It is the most curious thing. My remedies and his immune system seem now to not only be fighting the illness, but to be fighting wizard spells cast on him."

"What kind of spells?"

"Appearance-altering spells mainly. It seems the wizards were trying to hide him from us. He's Elvish!"

"The elders will take this as proof of incitement or war or crimes against our race."

"This is not something we can change. I just wonder how he came to be trapped there."

"Na ho mae?" (Is he well?)

Harry opened his eyes slowly to see two people standing at the end of what he had come to see as his bed, deep in discussion. They were both male with irregular clothing, sharp facial features and pointed ears.

"Ho na caeleb anhi." (He is bedridden for now)

Harry sat up as quietly as he could, but the two still must have heard him because they each turned sharply to look at him. Harry shot a fearful look at both of them before lowering his head to protect himself in case he was struck.

"We will not hurt you, Tithenlas." Came the melodious voice who nursed him back to health. "How are you feeling?"

Harry looked up to see one of the men with the long auburn hair tied up behind his back leaning forward over the bed, looking directly at him and smiling slightly. The man was wearing what looked to Harry like an eccentric white doctor's suit; a white breasted shirt with a large white overall, with long and large sleeves with three blue rings encircling the man's right upper arm. His ears were pointed, the pinnacle stretching our backwards into a fine point and curving at the end after three inches or so.

Harry couldn't find his voice to answer the man so he simply stared and drew the covers up to his chin.

"Child, my name is Maberin; I have stayed with you this past week during your illness."

"W-week?" Harry asked, his fear increasing.

Maberin held back a sigh; apparently that was not the right thing to say to the young one who had turned up so mysteriously at their home.

"That's right. What is your name, child?"

Harry swallowed loudly and sniffled, casting his eyes back down to his lap. His shoulders tensed and began to shake with the onslaught of his sobs, determined to resist his efforts to keep still and silent.

Maberin turned around to face his companion, completely bewildered, before turning back to the young boy, his heart filling with sorrow as he watched the terrified child try to bottle everything away. He moved around to one side of the boy and settled down beside him, though made no effort to physically reach for him as he felt it would make things worse.

"I don't have a name." Harry finally managed. "I… They… Whenever I tell people, they don't like it… and then my… then they get angry."

The third occupant of the room leaned forward onto his elbows on the bed, just low enough so that he could study the downcast child's face intently. "Who gets angry?"

Harry looked up at the new speaker, this one with short dark blonde hair, glacial blue eyes and a dark pink scar running from aside his right eye, down diagonally and through his lip until it reached his chin. Something which Harry might normally have found disconcerting, but this time he found it rather suited the man in front of him who, rather than being dressed in loose and flowing clothing like Maberin, was dressed in tight form-fitting leather armour. This man's ears were pointed though they were not long nor curved at the top like Maberin's.

"Who gets angry with you when people ask about your name?" The blonde asked with a little more decisiveness in his voice.

"My aunt and uncle." Harry answered quietly.

"Do they dislike your name?" Maberin asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't really have a name, not like my cousin."

"And what is his name?" The blonde asked.


The two men shared a glance, which ended with Maberin shaking his head. He turned back to Harry and asked. "What are your parents' names?"

Again Harry shrugged.

"Very well, rest now, you're still not well. If you need anything, child, just call me."

The two men made their way away from the bed and began chattering quickly and quietly away in their own language. Harry, though confused that they seemed not to already know his aunt and uncle, felt somewhat more secure for it and was bold enough to lay back down and listen to the foreign sounds of the two men as their harmonious voices soon had him drifting off back into sleep.

"It is not to so unexpected that he has been somewhat cowed by the humans, though I do wonder why the elf in his parentage neglected to care for him."

"Extraneous circumstances such as death, perhaps?" Maberin suggested.

"Even after death I am sure something could have been arranged that was more suitable. But how was he left behind? I thought we had all returned those many centuries ago."

"Some of us are not quite so old to have remembered, or even experienced it, Bronadui." Maberin chuckled. "Though I do wonder how he was missed. Our answers shall come in time, no doubt."

"Well… he has no name, no guardians and is terribly young. Perhaps not so much damage has been done that cannot be repaired with the correct introduction into our society."

"I would place his years at about six, though my intuition is telling me eight. But true, it is young enough. Are we to adopt him?"

"I found him and you nursed him, he's practically ours already mel'amin."


Harthad, or Harry for short, stopped dead in his tracks, moving only to turn slowly, guiltily, to face the direction of his Adar, Bronadui.

"Tulo'si." Came the sharp command that had Harry walking primly towards his Adar, eyes lowered submissively.

Bronadui stared sternly as his son in all but blood fought the fidget threatening to break loose. "You have been in my armoury again."

"Yes, Adar." Harry answered softly.

"This is the second time this week. Was the last punishment not good enough for you?"

Harry quite wisely stayed silent,

"Did you touch anything?"

"No, Adar. I didn't even-"

"Quiet." Bronadui commanded, letting the silence linger for a moment. "Now, answer me, Harthad, why, unless specifically commanded, are submissives, especially children, strictly prohibited from entering an armoury?"

"Without the correct supervision of the trained warrior or the close proximity to a healer, we endanger ourselves." Harry dutifully answered. "We have neither the strength nor the skill to correctly handle a weapon and should an accident occur, we might end up severely injuring ourselves."

"So why did you disobey both myself and the rules which are laid down by our society?" Bronadui asked quietly.

Harry looked up into his father's eyes and said, "Well, first off Adar, I was looking at the paintings, not the weaponry, I didn't go near it! Surely that's not against the rules?"

Bronadui sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I suppose I ought to at least be grateful this isn't a public affair. No, looking at pictures is fine, Harry, but I would prefer it if you weren't alone in there for reasons we have already discussed."

Harry grinned and stepped forward, reaching out for his Adar. At ten years of age, it was still perfectly acceptable for Harry to be cuddled and carried around like a toddler. It was something Harry was immensely grateful for, having been denied any type of comfort for as long as he could remember before coming to Toldolennor and being adopted into Bronadui's household.

"Promise me next time that you will not enter my armoury, or any other for that matter, without a dominant present."

"Yes, Adar." Harry acquiesced. "Adar, may I ask you a question? How exactly did you know I'd been in there?"

Bronadui chuckled knowingly. "Your fresh scent in that area and your scurrying footfalls were all I needed to notice to know what you'd been up to, Trasto'hael,"

Much to his Adar's delight, Harry's only response was to pout quietly.

Harry sat alone on the roof of the stables, knowing full and well how dangerous it was to be there (his father insisted he might fall off at any moment or the roof may cave in unexpectedly) and knowing full well his Adar would spank him into next year for disobeying him again (fifth time this week!) but for the first time in three years, he wanted to be alone.

It was Harry's third anniversary of being at Toldolennor and he had expected to celebrate as he had done the previous two years. But something had come up. It was not that his Adar had been called away to his maritime duties or that his Ada (daddy) had a patient he urgently needed to see to, it was because of a small white envelope he held in his hands.

It was an incredibly plain envelope delivered by owl, quite unmistakably addressed to him and quite obviously nothing to do with the elves. Elves had no need to send written letters. They could communicate everything that needed to be said across long distances or, if they were too young to do so, they met up clandestinely and spoke quietly without trying to be overheard.

Harry looked again at the front of the letter.

For the Attention of

Harry James Potter

The Nursery



He turned it over, paying no heed to the wax seal as he broke it and extracted the letter from it's confines.

"Dear Mister Potter," He read aloud, "We are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We expect conformation of your attendance by owl no later than August the 27th. Please ensure you have purchased all necessary equipment for the start of term and are on the train at nine o clock sharp on September the 1st.

Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary supplies you will need to complete your first year at Hogwarts. Please be aware that you are allowed to bring one familiar with you; either a cat, an owl or a toad.

Hoping to see you this coming September,

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress."

He slowly folded the letter back up and pushed it back inside the envelope before jumping down off the roof and resolving to find his parents and show them 'the good news'.

"You've been on the stable roof again." Bronadui stated as Harry entered the breakfast room.

"How do you know this time?" Harry asked, slightly affronted.

"You've evidence of it on your backside, come here and let me get it off for you."

Harry scowled at his parents as they chuckled slightly. He picked off the thatch straw, which had resolutely stuck to his robes and subsequently betrayed him, before approaching his parents.

"I'm aware you wish to punish me, Adar," Said Harry softly, "But I'd like you to take a look at this first."

Bronadui frowned as he took the envelope from his son's hands and, from the look of consternation on his spouse's face; there was good reason for the troubled feeling in his gut. They read the letter and list of supplies together in silence before returning them to the envelope.

"Do you want me to go?" Harry asked quietly, causing both older elves great sadness. Even after three years, they still hadn't quite managed to get Harry to completely trust that they loved him, that he was not a burden and that they would never hurt nor abandon him.

"Of course not, Tithenlas." Maberin crooned as he pulled his child close.

"I don't know how they found you." Bronadui said as he magically set the envelope alight. "But I shan't let them take you against your will."

"Who are they?" Harry asked.

"They are the wizards." Maberin answered. "Do you remember some of your bedtime stories about them?"

"Not… really." Harry answered.

"That is understandable; you are usually half asleep by the time the stories begin." Maberin smiled. "The story of the wizards is told the same to both dominants and submissives because there is a very real danger presented to our entire race. Do you remember me telling you about why our world is separate from theirs?"

Harry nodded.

"Good." Maberin smiled again, "Between our world and the wizards' world there is a connecting portal to grant us some measure of control over their waters and to give us contact with our cousin race, The Sidhe. The portal is always open and, whilst its activities are not monitored because they are so numerous, it is guarded. However, this does not mean there are those who cannot slip past the guards."

"Why would they want to?" Harry asked, somewhat aghast.

"We do not judge time as mortals do, Tithenlas." Bronadui reminded him. "What still feels like a travesty amongst many of our people, the humans and the other mortals have already forgotten. We are but legends in the mist with very little remaining there to remind them of our existence. Time here does not change so swiftly, but time there is different."

"Many of the elves cannot see this. Some do and await the day we shall return. Some do not wait and pay visits of their own accord. We believe, Harry, a she-elf dominant used the portal to return to Earth and there she found love. We do not think she returned. We also believe she may have had a child, a child that was one of your parents."

"Why didn't she bring her family back here?" Harry asked.

"We do not bring Earthians to our side, Harry, it is forbidden. Time has changed so much on Earth that we now have no solid knowledge of their practises, though what we assume from this letter is that wizards of a certain age are invited to attend a school for an amount of time to learn what they must to survive in the wizarding world. Your parents must have applied before they died, hence why you have been sent an invitation."

"But then, how did I end up here?"

Bronadui and Maberin shared a look. "We don't know for certain. When you got here you exhibited all the effect of one who is drowning, therefore your Adar assumes you came into contact with water being manipulated by the Portal Sorcerers and came to either their attention or the portals' attention and you were pulled through into this world where you belong."

"The portal is sentient?" Asked a surprised Harry.

"Yes, of course it is." Bronadui said, offering no further explanation leaving Harry quite confused.

"Adar, if the Elves have no solid knowledge of the people on Earth, how was it that you spoke English to me when I first got here?" Harry asked.

"The portal between the two worlds lies in England. It is known as Stone Henge to them and through that portal we manipulate their waters and some of us listen to the voices of the muggles and the wizards. It is from them that we have learnt their tongue."

"May we go boating on Ithil'lin?" Harry asked.

"Perhaps." Bronadui answered. "We have yet to address the matter of you disobeying me. Again."

When Harry did not jump to his own defence, Maberin crooned slightly and put his hand on Bronadui's arm. "We're supposed to be celebrating and it was such a shocking thing to receive. Not even we foresaw this."

Bronadui was silent for a moment as he looked between his betrothed and his adopted child until finally he smiled and drew Harry into his arms. "Very well, I will let it go this once."

Twelve months later, Harry was settled between the roots of a large tree reading a study book for leisure whilst his Ada sat beside a fire preparing herbal pastes and teas for his healing house. Yesterday they had celebrated Harry's fourth anniversary early because his Adar was expected at the Cirban, the harbour, to supervise the nautical training of the fresh warriors', something the older seafaring dominants were required to do every few years. As Harry placed a marker at his page and closed the book, he was quite surprised when another letter was dropped in his lap by a very disgruntled looking barn owl who settled herself in the tree.

Harry sighed as he broke the wax seal and read almost an exact replica of the letter from last year save that he was invited to attend his second year at Hogwarts.

"Ada, they're harassing me." Harry complained to Maberin.

"Come burn it on the fire, Tithenlas, then I want to teach you something."

"I learn plenty at school Ada." Harry grumbled.

"Yes, they teach you culture, magic, literature, music and crafting but they have yet to teach you healing." Maberin said as he drew Harry into his embrace. "I'm quite keen for you to learn how to heal."

"Ada, I want to know how to fight."

Maberin didn't question this; he too felt the need for the child to be skilled in warfare. "Your Adar will not allow it."

"Do you know someone who will?"

"I know that Meglivorn will teach you if I ask him." Maberin smiled. "Though we must keep this quiet from everyone, your Adar must never know. Both you and I would be punished should he find out."

"Adar would never punish you." Harry countered.

"Bronadui is very traditional, Harry, he likes the dominants to be strong willed warriors and the submissives to be helpless or healers. He cannot help it, this is how he was raised and it was this mentality that saved our race from extinction. It was this mentality that led the council of dominants to hide us all away from Earth and its inhabitants." Maberin explained. "This is why we are obedient to their laws, draconian as some of them are."

"That doesn't explain why he would punish you."

"He would do it because this is evidence of me resisting his values and the values Toldolennor, because I am advocating that you are taught to fight for yourself, to discover independence and, in Bronadui's eyes, endanger yourself. It is his fear of losing you, of you getting hurt that would lead him to discipline us both." Maberin explained further. "It is because of his beliefs and his love for you."

"But I know I need to fight." Harry protested. "In my dreams I hear 'find Helluin and the Melo'Amlug'; I am told a war approaches. I don't want to fight Ada, but I have to."

"I know this, and that is why I shall help you." Maberin comforted Harthad, rubbing small circles on his back. "Though I must confess Thalion will be most unimpressed at the thought of there being a 'Melo'Amlug'."

"I don't see that it has anything to do with him." Harry sniffed primly.

"He has made his affections for you known to your Adar."

"I'm twelve!" Harry exclaimed, disgruntled and surprised though not completely disgusted.

"Obviously he won't dare make a move on you whilst you're still an elfling." Maberin chuckled. "He will wait until your first majority before he approaches you. He is just letting us know in advance in case there are any more offers."

"I didn't think he would have bothered, I'm not even a full-blooded elf."

"It doesn't matter." Maberin laughed lightly. "When Bronadui and I adopted you, we gave you our blood anyway, which makes you full blooded elf and almost full blooded wizard."

"That doesn't make sense." Harry complained.

"Magic rarely does. You have the inheritance of Bronadui and I; my healing gifts, your Adar's eidetic memory. From your original parents you appear to have a strong water gift, which is not unusual, and our elders consider that you have an affinity with the portal, which may perhaps have arisen if you lived close to the portal on the other side and you also have your wizarding inheritance which gives you a strong magical core." He listed.


"So why are you so surprised he has taken an interest in you?"

"I'm twelve." Harry stated again.

"True enough, others have yet to approach due to your age. Most others would find approaching Bronadui about his twelve year old elfling a bit too... daunting." Maberin grinned.

"Oh ha ha." Harry scoffed. "Well, he will have to wait. I have more pressing things to focus on."

"Such as learning how to create a simple yet effective burn paste."

Good evening… infidels…

I'm back with a new Harry Potter fanfiction. I'm not totally sure this should be the first chapter but I like where this is going. And, surprisingly, I think I know how I want this to end. No promises, mind you, I'm terrible at actually finishing stories. As I'm sure you've noticed, this is a creature fic. Warnings as follows:

Slash, Creature!Harry, Submissive!Harry, Manipulative!Dumbledore

No decisions on a pairing yet, but I'm leaning towards DMHP

Warnings subject to change.

Thank you all for reading! Now, please take note of translations if you're interested and review!

En Edhelen Min – The Elvish Way

Bronadui – Enduring

Mel'amin – My love

Harthad – Hope

Adar – Father

Ada - Daddy

Tulo'si – Come here

Trasto'hael – Trouble maker

Cerin'bar – circularly enclosed dwelling

Tithenlas – Little leaf

Ithil'lin – Lake moon / Moon lake

Meglivorn – Black bear

Thalion – Dauntless

Toldolennor – Deep hidden isle

I'm using a glossary for the words from Hobbitslive, hence why I can't construct actual sentences. I've borrowed the linguistics and basic features from JRRT's LOTR but I warn you not to be shocked or offended when my own elves turn out to be quite different. There is likely to be someone who wishes to correct my appalling elvish grammar. To those I say – Nobody likes a smart arse. I like it the way it is.

This is not a crossover, by the way.