Harry Potter and the Elvish Magic

Harry Potter and the Elvish Magic

Chapter Two: Harry and Hermione go Hunting

Harry looked up at the tall trees above them. The green leaves were large enough to partially block out the intense sun, but small enough to let enough light through so that the forest wasn't murky. Hermione had suggested that they go hunting, so they had taken some weapons from the armoury, and gone out. Harry had chosen to take along only a dagger, and Hermione a bow. They had both been practicing archery, having little else to do (they'd already done all their summer homework, and Harry's work had been just as thorough as Hermione's had been).

What had been supposed to be a hunt had turned out to be a pleasant walk through the forest, boyfriend and girlfriend, hand in hand. The night, one week ago, Hermione had convinced Harry to put one of the suits of armour, they had told each other about how they felt about each other, and life had become much more pleasant for both of them. For one thing, they no longer had to be as reserved as they had been around one another. For another, it was so much more fun to do things together. Harry was enjoying this walk through the forest almost as much as he would have enjoyed a Quidditch match (it irked him considerably not to be able to use his broom; both he and Hermione had decided that the risk was too great that a Muggle might notice them. They didn't want to become some sort of Muggle legend.)

Hermione gestured to Harry silently. Ahead of them was a deer which was looking at them quietly, ready to flee if they moved. Very slowly, Hermione began to aim her bow, but Harry gestured for her to stop. They had more than enough food, and no way other than magic to keep the deer from spoiling. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, the deer was off. They watched it leaping through the forest, and it soon passed out of sight.

"I suppose you're right," Hermione said. "I don't think I would have shot it anyway; it was so pretty."

"Not nearly as pretty as you are," Harry said. She giggled exactly like she had when he'd first asked about the red plume on his helmet, then she danced away through the forest. Harry ran after her. He'd become more used to running because they'd done a lot of it in the past week, when they weren't doing homework, practicing archery or riding the horses. Harry knew he would miss the horses and the unspoiled environment, but otherwise he vastly preferred what was for him the present. Life was incredibly primitive in 1504, and although Harry had to admit that it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, he could hardly wait to get back to the present. Not only did he dislike having to hunt for his food, he hated living in a house where bugs buzzed all around and electricity had yet to be discovered. Of course, there wasn't really electricity at Hogwarts, but they had torches on all the walls which never went out, something which they didn't have in the villa because they didn't want to do too much magic.

Harry's thoughts on the inadequacies of 14th century amenities were cut short when they reached a part of the forest which looked much greener than it had before. The trees were higher than they had been when they had entered the forest, and there was more light here. Several small animals scampered around by their feet. Harry didn't notice them. He was looking at the deer they had seen earlier, which was standing in front of them, looking at them with trust in its eyes. Slowly, Hermione held out her hand, and the deer came forward and nuzzled it, then it nuzzled the hand that Harry held out, too. Harry realized that there was something very much alive about this part of the forest, something which they had not encountered before. Then he began to get the feeling that something was about to happen. He was right.

"Good morning," a voice said from behind them. They both whirled around, faster than they normally would have been able too. Harry's hand went towards his wand, and Hermione raised her bow. They both relaxed slightly when the man standing before them didn't attack them. Still, there was a certain energy about him, so they remained on their guard.

He was very tall, slightly taller than Harry. His hair was slightly longer than Harry's, and almost as messy (Harry's hair had gotten neater over the years, he could now normally tame it with only mild effort; he just didn't always bother). His eyes were deep blue, with a thin area of yellow around the pupils. He was wearing tight-fitting green and grey clothing, except for the brown leather belt and strap which secured his dagger, bow and quiver. Still, the most extraordinary feature about him was his physique. Harry thought that he looked as someone might look if they were eating the most nutritious diet possible, had been a bodybuilder all their life, played sports all the time, and was in the army. Harry wasn't the best judge of looks, but even he could tell that this man, with his bulging muscles and handsome face, would be extremely popular with most of his female classmates. If he hadn't looked to be about twenty years of age, Harry would have sworn that he had been one of the models for a classical Greek statue of an athlete. A statue of a very active athlete. Harry felt embarrassed by the thinness of his own body, clearly shown by the tight clothes he was forced to wear.

"Or," continued the man, "should I say 'Good afternoon'? It's sometimes difficult to tell, especially when you can't have a watch on." Harry and Hermione were both bewildered. How would someone from 1504 know what a watch was?

"I beg your pardon," said Hermione, trying to appear as if they really were the man's contemporaries, "but what's a watch?" The man began smiling slightly.

"Really, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger," he said in a slightly more serious tone. "You and I both know what a watch is, and what it is used for. And our people always know each other, despite the time and place. I should emphasize the word time."

"Please," said Hermione, "could you possibly be...?" Harry felt a thought spring into his head, although he had no idea where it came from. He made sure he was ready to pull out his wand and do a Memory Charm on the man if he turned out to be a Muggle.

"An Elf?" he asked. Hermione glanced at him, and he could tell that she'd been thinking the same thing. The man grinned broadly.

"Very good!" he said. "The talent is stronger in you than even I had hoped."

"The talent?" Harry asked.

'The ability to be an Elf," the Elf explained. "Elvishness, if you will." Harry was stunned. He wasn't an Elf. He was human.

"Elves are very much human, Mr. Potter," the Elf said. "Only with more evolved bodies, and very powerful magic." Harry was now remembering back to what he had read in his textbooks about the powers of Elves.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" he asked slowly, although he already knew the answer.

"As you already know, Mr. Potter," the Elf said, as Harry had expected, "Telepathy and mind-reading are native traits among Elves. You will develop them yourself, once your talent awakes." Harry was stunned. They were Elves?

"May I ask why you are meeting with us?" Hermione said.

"Because great evil is stirring in your time," the Elf continued. "Albus Dumbledore suspected, but had no way of knowing for sure, what you two and your friend Ron really were. He had no way of getting Ron to go with you without arising suspicion, but I'm sure he'll deal with that somehow. The two of you, as I'm sure you've figured out by now, are both Elves."

"How is that possible?" Hermione asked. "Our parents aren't Elves."

"Much as you were born, a witch, from Muggles," said the Elf, "It is possible for Elves to be born from humans, considering that it's just a matter of certain attributes and certain magical power." How much does he know about us? Harry wondered.

"I know absolutely nothing of your private life, Mr. Potter," the Elf said. "What I read from you minds to gain your trust, I have already told you. Please, trust me. You will not be harmed, I give you my word, but you simply must come with me. For you to have any chance of defeating Voldemort, you must be trained in you Elvish as well as normal wizarding abilities." Harry looked at him. He did seem to be trustworthy, but he was also certainly very dangerous. Still, Elves did abide by a very strict code of honour when it came to promises, and he had given them one.

"If we're to trust you," said Hermione, lowering her bow, "may we please know your name."

"Of course," said the Elf. "How careless of me to forget. My name is Rubon Ethuil, but please call me Rubon." His name was pronounced almost exactly like Reuben. Harry and Hermione looked at one another.

"Very well," she said finally. "We'll come with you." She tucked her crossbow behind her back.

"Wonderful!" said Rubon. He gave a great jump, and suddenly he was crouching on a tree limb as high as most chimneys were tall above them. Harry and Hermione gaped. They hadn't had a chance to learn much about Elves in any of their classes, as they were too sentient to be studied in Care of Magical Creatures, and so seldom harmed humans that they weren't covered extensively in Defence Against the Dark Arts, either.

"How did you..." asked Hermione, her voice trailing off.

"I'm sorry," said Rubon contritely, "I forgot about your clothes." He waved a hand at them, and suddenly they were clad much like he was. Harry's dagger was suddenly of a much better make, and Hermione's bow was strapped behind her back again. Harry was relieved, he'd begun to think that his feet would never stop aching from wearing leather boots too much. Elves wore leather shoes, much like Muggle hiking boots.

"Rubon," Harry said. "I still don't think that we can get up there like you did."

"Of course you can!" he said brightly. "That particular part of your talent, the ability to move rapidly for great distances, is already awake. Why do you think you're so good at Quidditch?" Harry had to agree that Rubon had a point, but he still doubted he would be able to reach anywhere near the branch. Concentrating on the limb, his legs suddenly bent slightly, then straightened and shot up with astonishing power. He shot up through the air rapidly, noting how all his perceptions seemed to be heightened. He closed in on the tree branch, landing neatly on top. Rubon looked at him with something like astonishment.

"That was very good," he said. "Very, very good. I have no idea how powerful of an Elf you'll be. Could I call you Harry, by the way?"

"I'd prefer if you did," Harry said. He leaned over, amazed at how easy it was, and shouted, "Come on, Hermione, don't be a baby!" Glaring at him, she shot up just as easily as he did.

"Just because you may have a few more male-hormone-induced fast-twitch muscle fibres than I do does not make you any better than me at something, Harry Potter!" she snarled, grabbing the front of his shirt. Then they both started laughing merrily. Rubon looked at them with a curious expression on his face, and then cleared his throat.

"It would be best," he said, "if you do not tell me of anything of your time. It could create a time paradox, and that is something at all costs we must avoid. Now, please follow me." They followed him slowly through the trees.

"We normally stay up in the trees when we're so close to the edge of the forest," he explained. "It's better if the other humans don't know we exist, and it is usually difficult even for us to walk in the forest and not leave footprints." Harry noticed that although Rubon was bigger than most humans, he had no difficulty going along on very thin branches. Harry noticed that he and Hermione were picking up the ability of travelling through the trees with surprising ease. He was surprised at how rapidly they were able to move through the trees.

They went on for quite a while, and soon the forest was greener than Harry and Hermione had ever thought possible. Rubon seemed to become a great deal happier as they went deeper in the forest, and Harry couldn't blame him. The forest was much more beautiful than it was by the villa.

Soon they began to pass other Elves, who were either walking on the ground or climbing through the trees. The forest seemed to become brighter and brighter, although Harry didn't notice any change in the amount of light his eyes were receiving.

"As you get closer to a group of Elves," Rubon explained, "more magic flows through the air, and it becomes easier to see." Harry was starting to become more confident in the trees. Suddenly, his hand slipped. He caught himself before he began to fall, but berated himself for becoming to complacent. You've known that you're an Elf for about fifteen minutes, he thought furiously, and already you think that you're perfectly at home up in a tree! Already Harry and Hermione had almost forgotten that they had ever not believed Rubon.

Finally he stopped and jumped down, landing easily on his feet. Because it was no longer a great distance to the ground, Harry felt fairly comfortable jumping down and bending his knees as he landed to absorb to impact. Hermione landed next to him. Both were breathing slightly harder than normal, but were otherwise invigorated by their climb through the trees.

"I kept you in the trees longer than was necessary to help you become more accustomed to travel in them," Rubon explained. "We are now in the heart of the Italian Elvish settlements. I will take you now to the Queen, who much desires to speak with you." Harry noticed that Rubon was speaking much more formally in the presence of the other Elves. Harry was starting to feel slightly out of place. He wasn't sure if he wanted to meet the other Elves, if even Rubon's formerly bright spirit was dampened by them.

"Oh, come on, Rubon, drop the act," a female voice said from behind them. Harry and Hermione turned around, knowing, somehow, that this person was someone whom they could trust. A tall woman, clad in off-white robes, stood before them. Harry was beginning to notice that it was very difficult to tell ages with adult Elves. Otherwise, they were all between twenty and forty years of age, and Harry knew that Elves tended to live much longer than that. The woman standing before them couldn't be much older than Bill Weasley, but her eyes somehow showed experience and knowledge equal to that of Dumbledore.

"I told you not to be so formal all the time, Rubon," she said, pretending to be angry. "You're scaring Harry and Hermione. You know what my punishment is." Rubon's formerly serious look was replaced with one of absolute dread. "Rubon," the woman said firmly, "come here and give your old Mum a kiss." Harry and Hermione snickered quietly (although they were sure that Rubon and the Queen (they were sure that the woman was she) could hear them)). Rubon leaned forward awkwardly and kissed his mother on a cheek. Then he straightened up, blushing furiously.

"You're not my old Mum," he said petulantly. "You're only 758." She smirked, then turned to Harry and Hermione. Harry was surprised by how fluently Dumbledore's spells could translate from Italian to English.

"Come with me, please," she said, acting more like what Harry had imagined a queen to be like. "My name is Eleni Ethuil, queen of the elves." She led them to an outcropping of rocks. There, she turned one of the rocks partially around, revealing an opening behind it. Because she only used one finger to move the rock, Harry surmised that the rock was delicately balanced. He knew Elves were strong (they were all as or more athletic-looking than Rubon was), but they couldn't be that strong. Could they?

The queen led them down a passageway. Despite the fact that its walls were of rock, Harry felt quite at home in it. Although, he thought, I have been spending most of the last four years at Hogwarts, which is made of stone, as well. Suddenly, the passageway opened up onto a cathedral sized cavern, lit by daylight coming down through fissures in the rock.

"This is the main hall of Dargoth, our underground palace," she explained. Although it was obvious that they were underground, Harry could see that the hall had been lived in. It appeared that Elves preferred to emulate nature in their architecture. The rocks had been smoothed, but were allowed to retain their natural forms. Many of the furnishings had been worked out of the rock walls. Harry was sure that it had taken many centuries to build this hall, which looked to be about as old as Hogwarts.

The cavern was obviously ancient; Harry looked in awe upon the long stalactites. The stalagmites on the ground had been carved, with beautiful pictures of phoenixes and trees winding around their narrow girths, along with writing which Harry couldn't understand but somehow seemed to be just on the edge of meaning. Some of the stalactites had had holes bored up through the middle, so that daylight shone down through them. The rest of the light was provided by red and yellow flames which danced on the tips of some of taller stalagmites. Seeing no source of fuel and sensing a faint energy of some sort dancing around them, Harry surmised that they were magic. The Queen led them down a passageway lit by torches set at intervals along it. It reminded Harry of a typical unused corridor at Hogwarts. It only needed talking paintings. The Queen opened a wooden door for them, and Harry remembered what he had once read about Elvish royalty doing as much work as commoners. The Queen gestured them into comfortable-looking chairs with cushions of velvet, and sat across from them in a similar chair. From the amount of energy she exhibited, Harry found it hard to believe that she was nearly 800 years old.

"I suppose," she said, "you're wondering how we knew you were Elves."

"Well, your Majesty..." Hermione said, but the Queen cut her off.

"Please, don't call me that," she said. "Unless I'm at one of those ridiculous state occasions, please call me Aunt Ethuil." Hermione blushed slightly.

"Well, Aunt Ethuil," she said, "I was wondering we didn't know already that we were Elves."

"A logical question," the Queen said. "The difference between Elves and humans is so very slight that it's only possible for an Elf to tell the difference. And Albus Dumbledore..."

"How did you know about him?" Harry asked, blushing. The Queen, to his surprise, blushed too.

"Please pardon me for forgetting," she said. "As you may know, inter-temporal communications are not difficult, providing that you have the right type of magic and a little bit of power. Even a young magical human could probably manage it with the right training. However, because knowledge of the future can distort how things turn out for those in the future, and change what those in the past are going to do... But I'll get lost talking about the complexities of time. Italian simply doesn't have the tenses for it, and your talent isn't awake enough yet for you to understand Elvish very well without learning it the long way around.

As I was saying, Albus Dumbledore contacted me, what was for him, the moment after you left. I was contacted about the time you arrived. He asked me to check if you were Elves, and requested that if you were, we train you to protect you from the evil stirred up in your time. He suspected that you were, you see, but couldn't be sure. We saw when you went hunting that first night, Harry. We knew at once that you were an Elf, from the way you shot those quail so easily. Elves have always had a particular affinity with bows and arrows, so it was fairly easy for you to shoot those two quail and kill them instantly. Anyway, when the deer had come to her so easily, we were sure of her Elvishness too. And of course, to be absolutely sure, we could sense the power within you as you came closer to us. That power can be sensed by Elves alone. It's a great gift and a great curse that you've been given, Harry and Hermione. Don't misuse it."

"I'm sorry, Aunt Ethuil," Harry said, "but I don't quite understand how it's a curse." The Queen looked at him with a grave expression on her face.

"As you know, Harry," she said, "Wizards tend to live much longer than Muggles. The average lifespan of a wizard is about three centuries, is it not?" Harry and Hermione nodded. Harry had only discovered this fact a few days ago. He had had no idea that Dumbledore was in fact over one hundred years of age. He was one of the few older wizards left; most had been killed by Grindelwald. The vast number of younger witches and wizards was due to the population explosion after the Second World War.

"The present average lifespan of a Muggle is much, much lower," Aunt Ethuil said. "And the average lifespan of an Elf is approximately ten centuries." Harry gasped. He was going to live for 1000 years? Suddenly, he wasn't so happy about being an Elf anymore.

"You will outlive most of your friends," Aunt Ethuil said. "Unless you marry them. That would make their lifespan approximately equal to yours. It's a gift which can only be given once or twice, so you can only make that many people live that long. You will probably also have fewer children than the average Muggle or Wizard. Rubon, for example, is my third child, and he has walked this earth for only twenty years." Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

"However," Aunt Ethuil said, "your friendships will also be much richer than most friendships. Also, the relationships which Elves form in their childhood and teenage years are usually ones which will last for life." Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and something of love, and of hope, passed between them.

"If I could give you the choice to renounce this power, I would," Aunt Ethuil said. "But the power of Elvishness is impossible to renounce. I wish to have Rubon train you, so you can use and control your power, and bring more that is good to the world. Do you accept?" Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and something passed between them again.

"Yes," they said, simultaneously.

"You've awoken much of each other's talents," Aunt Ethuil said. "There's not much left for me to do." She extended a hand towards each of them, and looked as if she was concentrating. She was completely still for a few moments, then relaxed.

"That is all," she said. "Your powers are awakened, but you will only gradually become consciously aware of it. Rubon will take you now. I have enjoyed meeting you." Quickly she stood up and left. Rubon entered a few moments later.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Ready for what?" Harry asked.

"Training, of course," he said.

'Training in what?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, the usual," Rubon said evasively. "Archery, Elvish martial arts..."

"How did you know what martial arts are?" Harry asked.

"We're now speaking Elvish," Rubon said. "My mother awoke that particular aspect of your talent right away. Elves have already discovered them, so we have a word for them. You probably just haven't realized that we're not speaking English anymore." Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, before realizing that he was right.

"So, let's begin!" said Rubon brightly. He led them off through the passageways.

***

Harry and Hermione stumbled into bed that night, their bodies aching. It had all started when Rubon had led them through several well-lit passages until they got to a huge room. A Elvish woman was waiting for them there, who Rubon introduced as his friend Maloriel. She was just as nice as Rubon was. Rubon had told them that they would start practicing the Elvish art of Rothbow, which was similar to human martial arts. It consisted of a set of kicks, hits, flips and throws. Rubon started Harry off on a set of basic kicks, and Maloriel did the same with Hermione. It was surprisingly hard, but once Harry had mastered the basics, he progressed much faster. The same was true of Hermione. Rubon had seemed pleased with their progress as he guided them back to the villa. Harry had been amazed to find that there were already stars overhead (he'd thought that only a few hours had passed, at most, since they had first entered into the forest), and Rubon began teaching them how to guide themselves by the stars. By the time they had reached the villa, they had mastered the stars of the northern hemisphere, and Rubon had had no more to teach them. As they walked back towards the villa, their clothes had changed back into the Italian clothing which Harry had come to hate.

Pausing only to take off his boots, Harry collapsed into bed, Hermione lying down beside him. Harry was about to say something, when suddenly a cold voice spoke.

"If you move, I will kill you." A short, shifty-looking man was standing at the foot of the bed. Harry had no idea how he had snuck up without their noticing, but he did see the bow in the man's hands and the arrow and string pulled back tightly. He sat up slowly, making no sudden moves.

"What is it that you desire?" he asked, trying to make Dumbledore's spells translate his words into Italian which sounded plausibly upper-class.

"I saw you come out of the forest with one of those Elves," the man said, making it sound like a swear word. "The other wizards and I don't like those uncanny things, and you're one of them, aren't you!"

"No," began Hermione, in a placating tone, but the man cut her off.

"Shut up, you shrew!" he snapped. "Let your husband do the talking." Harry remembered that a shrew used to be a woman who didn't obey her husband.

"If you're a wizard," he said, "why are you using a bow and arrow to threaten us?" The man grunted.

"Damn spells won't work here," he said. "You should know that, shouldn't you, 'cause it was those Elves as put some wards up!" As the man continued speaking, his eyes began to twitch slightly as the quality of his speech degraded more and more. Harry began to strongly suspect that the man was a fanatic, whom they wouldn't be able to convince to not harm them. He remembered what Rubon had said, about Elves having telepathic abilities. It was worth a try.

Hermione, he cast outward experimentally.

Harry? he heard her think rapidly.

"As I said," Harry told the man. "You have no reason to threaten us." Try and contact Rubon. He can come help us.

No, Hermione thought. The other Elves might get hurt. I'll ask him to tell Dumbledore about this in the future; he'll only be middle-aged by then. Then Dumbledore can retrieve us.

I don't understand what you're going to do, Harry thought, but if you think that it'll work, do it. Now.

"Those crazy Elves are a danger to us!" the man snapped, becoming more lucid. Harry and Hermione had been talking mentally while they had been doing this, and Harry was finding it difficult to concentrate on both conversations at once.

"How so?" Harry asked innocently. He sensed Hermione saying Rubon! Then he heard a voice in his head, a voice he'd been longing for.

"Please put a memory charm on him before you go, Harry," Dumbledore said. "The word, as I believe you learned from Professor Lockhart, is "Obliviate". Just concentrate on this one evening of memories, would you, and use your hand instead of your wand." Harry was bewildered by Dumbledore's instructions, but he discreetly moved his hand as the man began shouting about how dangerous Elves were.

"Obliviate," he said, thinking forget this evening, forget just this evening... A white jet of light shot out from his hand, along with a warm sensation, and hit the man on the head. He suddenly looked slightly unfocused, as Harry and Hermione were enveloped in a gold dust which came from nowhere. The next thing they knew, they were in a great void of sound, and roaring sound gradually died down as they seemed to slow down. Harry thought that it was much like going back in time, except for the fact that it seemed as if they were flying forwards, and that the roaring sound, although it seemed to be right around them, was getting quieter and quieter. Suddenly, they were standing, clad in the clothing they had been wearing before they left, in Dumbledore's office. Harry's clothing noticeably tighter, especially around the arms and shoulders. Hermione's arms were thicker as well. Otherwise, everything was the same as it had been when they had left. Dumbledore was standing before them, looking very grave.

"I would like to apologize for the fright you received," he said. "I assure you that that arrow would not have flown at you even had the man released it. However, you were discovered by that hitherto unknown group of wizards, and it was necessary to remove you in case they found a way to get around the protection charms. I was unable to check to see if there were any wizards hostile to you in the area, because they were native to that time period and blended in.

"It's all right," Harry said. "It was fun, actually." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but then he became more serious again.

"Of course," Dumbledore said, "that leaves us with the question, yet again, of where to put you where you can complete your Elvish training, as well as Mr. Weasley. His parents were contacted by the Elves, including by Rubon Ethuil. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have agreed to send him off with you, if we can find a place for you to go. We can not send you to the Elves of the present without Voldemort discovering your ability. We have tried the past, which has not worked. That leaves us with one option, namely, the future."

"Professor," Hermione asked, "won't Voldemort be able to get at us just as easily in the future?" They had both by now become accustomed to the idea of time travel.

"That is a very good question, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, smiling at her. "When Voldemort did those many spells which kept him alive and enabled him to arise again, it restricted him and his servants to this planet. Normally, most humans are also restricted to this planet, other than Muggle astronauts or witches and wizards manning our station on the Moon. However, in the future it will almost certainly become more possible for you to get off this planet. A centaur (as you both know, they occasionally make reliable prophecies) prophesised that a ship would leave Earth manned by Elves to find a new planet to live on, because some Elves became tired of a world where life was very easy for them. As Elves, you would be welcome on it, and Rubon, who is the king of all Elves, has promised me that he will be on it if it were to go, and he will instruct his predecessor to allow you to board it and receive instruction if he dies before the year 2400, which is when the ship is prophesised to leave. You would spend one and a half months on the ship, completing your training."

"He's old," Harry said, before he could stop himself.

"Elves form long-lasting friendships, Harry," said Dumbledore, "as I believe you know. Also, when Aunt Ethuil told you that Elves live for ten centuries, you must understand that medical care has improved vastly since then, and Rubon's projected lifespan is now 3000 years. Yours will be even longer." Harry and Hermione gulped. At least we'll have Ron, Harry thought.

"I wouldn't worry that much," Dumbledore said brightly. "I believe that the average lifespan for your generation will be over half a millennium, and it will continue to get longer."

"So will ours," Harry noted. Dumbledore nodded.

"The important thing to remember, Harry, is that life is a gift we are given, and it is our responsibility to take care of it," he said. Harry nodded too.

"Are you ready?" Dumbledore asked. They nodded. He went over to the fireplace and tossed in a handful of powder.

"The Burrow," he said clearly. Mrs. Weasley's head appeared, and she smiled at Harry and Hermione, who waved back.

"We're ready," Dumbledore said, "and it is only a matter of time before Voldemort determines his location, unless he leaves now." Mrs. Weasley nodded, apparently overcome with the fact that her son was leaving for the rest of the summer holidays, and suddenly Ron's head appeared in the flames and Harry surmised that Mrs. Weasley was hugging him as she kissed him on the cheek.

"Gerrof, Mum," Ron said, not really minding. He hugged her back, and then came through the flames, saying "Bye, Mum, I love you."

"I love you too, Ron," she sobbed into her apron, before disappearing from the flames.

"Ron!" Harry and Hermione exclaimed with delight, and the next thing they knew, they were in a large group hug, before breaking apart guiltily and remembering what Dumbledore had said about there not being much time. His eyes were twinkling again as he gestured them to stand in back away from the desk.

"As you've all done your homework, and we don't want to contaminate those in the future our microorganisms (they'll be eradicated), I'll have you leave your trunks here, and clothes will be provided for you when you get there. You'll only have your wands, upon which I have taken the liberty of placing Unbreakable and Unburnable Charms on your wands. Also, I think that Hedwig, Hecate and Pigwidgeon will be happy with Snuffles for the rest of the holiday, don't you think?" He smiled and gestured at three owls perched next to Fawkes on several perches next to Fawkes' golden one.

"How is Snuffles?" Harry asked. He knew he'd miss being in contact with Sirius.

"He's doing some undercover work for us," said Dumbledore. "I've tried to make sure that he's always in situations where he'll be able to back out if need be. He was glad to hear that you have another ability that Voldemort doesn't know about. He was in contact with the Elves; they act as if they're related. He suggested that you all go through another form of training while you're there, and the Elves agreed to it."

"What form of training?" Ron asked curiously. Dumbledore smiled again.

"Animagus training," Harry felt a rush of excitement, and Hermione went "Ooooooooh!" Dumbledore took out the Time Turner again, and Harry had one question, as the golden dust flew towards them.

"Professor," he asked. "How was I able to do that last spell?" Dumbledore merely waved, but Harry could have sworn he winked.

They were enveloped in blackness again, and the roaring noise was all around them at once. They flew forwards faster than fast. There was a jerk, and suddenly they landed in a large room with huge windows. Harry guessed that they were perhaps on the 113th floor of a skyscraper which overlooked a blue-green ocean. Looking at a red bridge, which he supposed, from the fact that there were no cars on it but instead lines of small flying vehicles in the air, that it was preserved as a monument. In fact, he thought he recognized it as the Golden Gate bridge, which would mean that they were in San Francisco. He thought that that was where the bridge was located. Harry's attention towards their location was minimal, however, because his, Ron's and Hermione's attention was taken up with a very familiar figure.

"Rubon!" Harry exclaimed with delight. He hadn't changed a bit, although he was perhaps a bit taller. Rubon smiled at them too.

"Finally, after 900 years, I get to see you again," he said happily.

"It's been only about half and hour for us," Hermione said helpfully. Harry then remembered that they had stumbled exhaustedly into bed, and were still dead tired. He judged from looking out the windows that it was around noon. He hoped he wouldn't collapse.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Rubon contritely. He drew out a wand from one of his pockets (he was wearing clothes similar to what Harry, Ron and Hermione were now wearing; namely, a pair of trousers which, while thick, were of an extremely fine weave and a shirt of a similar but lighter material) and aimed it at Harry and Hermione.

"Enervate," he said. Harry and Hermione felt a new surge of energy as the Wakening Charm surged through them.

"I didn't know you could do human magic, Rubon," Hermione said curiously.

"It's a useful skill to have," he said. "I was fortunate enough to be able to learn later on, after there was less prejudice against Elves. It blends in with all the other magical humans in the city. We're in San Francisco, by the way, and we're going up to the spaceport in about ten minutes. I'm sorry you couldn't see more of the city, but once we're on the Silladem, you'll be able to visit the holographic version of it. It's one form of Muggle technology which has proven to be useful. Shall we?"

"Which floor are we on, out of curiosity?" Harry asked.

"By the American system, the 112th," Rubon said. He led them out through the door, which slid open of its own accord.

"Oh," he said, "My name is Rubon, not King Ethuil, unless we're at state occasions, which there will be none of. The same goes for Maloriel, but you knew that, right?" Harry and Hermione laughed, and Ron caught on fairly quickly and laughed too.

"Also," Rubon continued, "we're not supposed to be leaving until tomorrow, but there have been a few close encounters with people nearly finding out about us. It's hard to conceal your heritage in a human city. Anyway, we'll have to shoot out of here into hyperspace before we get pursued. If anyone asks, we're just doing a routine preflight practice launch drill. Got it?" They nodded. He led them out down a richly carpeted hallway. Harry stared in fascination at what Muggle cars had evolved into. He tried not to appear startled by the robots which passed them, and Ron managed not to stare at the computer screens dotting the wall. Hermione looked out of the windows in fear, and when Rubon led them out across a skyway which was made entirely of either glass or plastic (Harry couldn't tell), she kept her eyes fixated on his broad back, and ignored the lines of vehicles passing above and below them. Rubon led them to an elevator seemed to go very fast, because it was only a few seconds before they were at street level. Harry breathed in the pure air with gladness for the absence of pollution, and was thrilled when Rubon led them to a vehicle parked at the edge of the roadway. They got in and sat down on leather-covered seats, and Rubon touched the tip of his right index finger to a space on the control panel. Then he laid his hands down flat upon it, and the vehicle took off, video screens flickering on on every wall, showing the sides of buildings whizzing by them. Harry could only assume that the vehicle was guided by some form of telepathy which travelled through the hands, because Rubon wasn't moving his hands at all, simply resting them on the panel. He tipped the vehicle back, and automatic seatbelts came up around their chests and waists. They rocketed up over the top of the highest building, then Rubon spoke.

"Prepare to go up to parking orbit," he said, and a computerized voice replied (Ron looked around in vain to see where it came from), "Preparation complete. Please turn seats forward and lock in position." Harry, Ron and Hermione were already facing forward, and Rubon, after looking back to see how their seats were oriented, said "Computer, lock passenger seats in current position." There was a faint clicking noise, and Harry tried but couldn't move his chair. He felt reasonably safe, assuming that Rubon could actually fly the contraption. A green light came on on the control panel, and Rubon said, "We're ready." Something roared suddenly, and they shot up, Hermione closing her eyes.

"Hermione," said Harry, "this is probably your only chance to see this for four hundred years!" She opened her eyes and glared at them, but kept them open. Looking at the screen on the rear wall, they could see that they were already far above the clouds, and the Earth began to look slightly curved. The ship, as Harry now realized it was, curved up towards a smooth metal structure shaped rather like a rounded-out ice cream cone. It was a space station.

"Silladem shuttle to Space Station Gamma," Rubon said. "We request permission to dock aboard out ship."

"Purpose of flight?"

"We wish to conduct a standard preflight practice launch drill in order to prepare our crew."

"You have authorization. Please enter at a speed of less than 30 kilometres per hour through gate 29. You must go no faster while in the space station."

"Acknowledged," Rubon said, rolling his eyes. "Crazy computers," he muttered. He piloted the ship up toward a gate which had just opened. There was a large number 29 painted above it, with a small spotlight illuminating the number. Rubon skilfully piloted the small ship through the gate. Beyond was a large well-lit space with several ships docked. They looked surprisingly like the ships which had appeared in several of the science-fiction TV shows which Dudley had been hooked on in youth. Rubon flew towards the largest, and in Harry's opinion, the prettiest ship. Its hull had many windows, and was painted off-white. Harry squinted at the windows, and couldn't see any glass.

"The integrity of the hull is maintained by force fields over the window openings," Rubon explained. "They have metal barriers that slide shut and close the openings if there's any indication that the force fields will malfunction or even go down."

"Shuttle to Silladem," he continued. "We request permission to land."

"Affirmative," Maloriel's voice came over the speaker. "Please land in the usual shuttle bay, Captain." There was a certain tone to her voice, and Harry, Ron and Hermione all sniggered. Rubon blushed. He flew the shuttle through a pair of doors which opened before them in the side of the ship, and landed in the room beyond them. The doors slid shut, and there was a faint hiss as air reentered the room. Then it stopped.

"Environment outside shuttle safe to enter," the computerized voice said. "What is that thing?" muttered Ron. "Exit the shuttle at will, Captain," the voice continued. Rubon stood up and stretched as their seatbelts released them. They did the same thing, because they were surprising cramped, considering that they hadn't been in the shuttle for more the ten minutes. They followed Rubon down the stairs which folded out from the door which sprang open, and walked through the launch bay into the rest of the ship. Harry liked it at once. There was a surprising number of paintings on the wall, all of which talked. It reminded him of Hogwarts. He even thought that he recognized the portrait of Sir Cadogan, but he was glad that he wasn't sure. Rubon led them through the carpeted corridors to a large door which said "Bridge", and turned around.

"Because there are few of us, and you're very talented, I'm afraid that you'll have to serve on the bridge as civilians. Ron, you will need to be our chief tactician, Hermione, you will be our research specialist, and Harry will be our chief pilot."

"What?" he gasped. "I have no idea how to fly a space shuttle!"

"It's telepathic," Rubon assured him. "You merely need to keep your hands on the control panel, and think about where to go. You have the instincts, from being a Seeker, so it shouldn't be to hard. Ron is a phenomenal chess player, and Hermione's knowledge and intelligence are almost incomparable, except for possibly you and Ron. Shall we?" He turned around, and the bridge doors opened. Maloriel was sitting in the captain's chair. She smiled as she saw them.

"Welcome aboard, captain," she said, sounding like 1950's Muggle secretary.

"Thank you, first mate," he said, equally formally. They all laughed, then Maloriel went over to another chair and console in front of a large screen which dominated the front of the bridge, and Harry went to the one next to her, instinctively knowing that it was the pilot's chair. Ron and Hermione sat down in two chairs, each with its own console.

"Pilot, prepare for takeoff," Rubon said. "Just put your hands on the control panel and visualize sending a command to the computer: Prepare for takeoff. And I'm sorry for all the formality, but as long as we're in the space station, this pesky computer won't turn off and won't let take off until I say them. I'm starting to babble, as usual, so just go ahead." Harry laid his hands on the blank screen before him, and thought Get ready to launch. The panel lit up, with a screen showing which said "Status of ship: Nominal. Speed relative to cosmic magnetic field: 0 k/h."

"That's it then," Rubon said. "I just hope that doors to let us out will open." Harry remembered that they weren't supposed to be going yet, and fervently hoped that they wouldn't end up being arrested. "Let's go towards the doors at 15 kilometres per hour," Rubon decided. "Go ahead." Scared out of most of his wits, Harry thought, as firmly and confidently as he could, Go towards the doors at 15 kilometres per hour.

"Request more specific direction," a speaker said in a computerized voice.

"Oh," said Rubon. "You don't need to give it the telepathic equivalent of verbal commands, Harry, although you might want to do so with the speed. Visualize the ship going the way you want it to, and it will." Harry tried again. 15 kilometres per hour, he thought, and visualized the ship moving backwards through the space station.

"Silladem," a computerized voice said. "You have no authorization to launch. Return to your docking station immediately!" Rubon pushed a button on the arm of his chair.

"If you do not open the main doors immediately, we will fire upon them," he warned.

"Then you will fire upon them," the voice said. "Or crash into them. They will be impervious to whatever you do." Hermione very swiftly brought her hands down on her console, and said "Transmit to door control of Space Station Gamma." Then she seemed to concentrate heavily and breathe hard. All of a sudden the doors slid open, and without hesitation Harry piloted the ship out through the opening. Hermione collapsed in her chair and the doors slammed shut immediately, barely missing the Silladem's prow. The computerized voice was furious.

"How dare you hack into out computer systems!" it snapped. "You will be pursued with every ship that we have, and prosecuted to the full extent of the law! How dare you! How dare you! How dare you!"

"Technically, we don't fall under human jurisdiction," Rubon said. "They consider us to be a separate species. Therefore, you are guilty of holding us against our will, and we may prosecute you." The voice, apparently, was speechless. Rubon leaned forward, chuckling, and switched off the transmitter.

"Well done, Hermione," he said. "Take her to the infirmary, could you, Doctor?"

"Of course, Captain," Maloriel said, smirking. Harry was surprised. Were they the only people on board?

"To save food," Rubon said, "and the energy it takes to transfigure it from other materials, we are the only people who are awake. The others are all magically asleep until we reach our destination. There are 900 of them, I believe, nearly 10 percent of all Elves on Earth."

"There's a ship!" Ron said suddenly. A ship was zooming towards them, painted entirely black.

"That's a Goroth ship," Rubon said in alarm. "They hate anyone who's not just like them, and now they want to take care of us, because no one has ever left Earth without the intention of coming back. Chief tactician?" Ron gulped.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"The Andromeda galaxy, at least at first," Rubon said. "It's directly galactic north of us, at the moment."

"Accelerate in orbit," Ron said. "Get us so we'll go around once every five minutes." You heard him, Harry thought, and the ship's engines barely hummed as they fell faster and faster around the Earth; the ship fortunately having understood Harry's instructions. Meanwhile, Ron was frantically skimming through data on his console. Four minutes later, he looked at the viewscreen, which showed the black ship bearing down on them.

"Initiate flightshield," Ron said.

"Require approval," the computer said.

"Regard all instructions by Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley as being equivalent to mine while they're in a rational state of mind, which should be all the time," Rubon said immediately. A hard to see something rippled around the ship, and Harry's display showed "Ready to accelerate past light speed."

"Get us past that ship, Harry," Ron said, "and then go on galactic north at 75% of maximum speed." Bewildered, Harry sent the ship shooting forward. Several bright beams shot out of the Goroth ship, and Harry sent the ship on a tight curve to avoid them. He actually thought that he might be able to do it, as he zoomed around what he presumed was a torpedo. It was no harder than dodging a Bludger. Suddenly, they whizzed past the enemy ship, which turned around slowly in preparation to follow them. Harry somehow visualized something, and the next thing he knew was that the ship was rocketing forward, although he couldn't feel much motion, and the other ship was nowhere to be seen.

"Present speed, 7.5 times 10^8 Lum," Harry's display read.

"What unit is this speed in?" Harry asked.

"One Lum is equivalent the speed of light," Rubon explained. "Because of its radical design and flightshield, our ship anchors part of itself to another dimension, which allows our engines to propel us at speeds of up to 1 billion Lum, which comes from the Latin word for light, by the way."

"What about what's already in that other dimension?" Harry asked.

"Because the ship is of this dimension, we pass harmlessly through whatever's in the other dimension," Rubon explained. "Because we're hooked up the other dimension, we're able to age normally, unlike we would if we were really going faster than light entirely in our dimension." Harry had trouble understanding this, but resolved not to try.

The ship roared on through a dark universe.