The Depths of Darkness

Author's Note: A Big thank you to Elizabeth for acting as a fabulous beta for this chapter and story!!!

Chapter Two
Culture Shock

Things for Vernon and Petunia Dursley had suddenly taken a turn for the better when they had discovered that their strange nephew, Harry James Potter, had disappeared. They had not even been too concerned with the 10-pound note he had run off with. There had been no awkward good-byes, embarrassing shows of emotion, or anything out of the ordinary. He had just upped and left. They could hardly complain, for they were now finally free of him, his freak friends, and his freakish ways. No more explaining to the neighbours as to why the boy seemed a bit odd and, most importantly, no more owls and unexpected visits from people just as strange as the boy had been.

However, for the Dursley's, their happiness was not meant to last. All good things come to an end, after all. Even though they themselves had not cared much for the last Potter, there were others who did and they had arrived right on schedule to pick him up. After the initial discovery, by Arthur Weasley, that Harry was, in fact, missing, Vernon and Petunia's belief that they would no longer have to experiences wizards in their home was completely and hopelessly shattered. Wizard after Wizard seemed to step in and out of their front door, each one asking their own string of questions. Where's the boy? What have you done with him? Did he have his wand with him? Do you know where he went?

It wasn't until Albus Dumbledore had calmly stepped into their living room that Vernon and Petunia Dursley really started to consider the consequences of their past actions. For being as old as he was, the man had a way of dominating a room that was all together ... intimidating, despite the gentle smile on his lips and twinkle in his eye. Dumbledore had sent owls and representatives in the past, but he had never darkened their doorstep in person. The simple fact that he was there showed exactly how serious the situation truly was.

"Vernon. Petunia," he greeted, taking a seat in the chair that Vernon liked to claim as his own, which only caused the vein in Vernon's temple to throb angrily. Of course, the comment that had immediately appeared on the tip of Vernon's tongue remained locked safely away. Vernon Dursley wasn't entirely dimwitted. It was different with Harry. The brat couln't use magic. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was allowed and, no doubt, was quite good at it.

Vernon's eyes moved back to Dumbledore's as the old man continued, effectively drawing him away from raging internally about the nerve of some poeple. "I am aware of the relationship between yourselves and young Harry. I also understand that you do not see eye to eye on many subjects, but it is imperative that we receive your full co-operation in order to locate him immediately."

"Why is it imperative for us? Good riddance, if you ask me!"

"He's under age! He can't do magic! He's out there by himself with Merlin knows who after him! He's blood to you! You had the responsibility to care for him until he became of age, you lousy good for nothing-"

"Nymphandora, please restrain yourself. Your actions are justified but this is not the time for them," Dumbledore's soft, yet commanding voice was enough to keep Tonks from using every offensive spell she'd learned in Auror training against the twp despicable Muggles in front of her. As far as Tonks was concerned, Minerva had been correct. They truly were the worst sort of Muggle.

Once it was clear that he would not be interrupted again, Dumbledore continued his line of questioning with practiced ease. "It is my understanding that you, Vernon, had sent Harry to run an errand for you. An errand that you knew would have taken him quite a long time to finish, am I correct?"

"Yes, I did!" Vernone snapped, puffing out his chest as though he was someone of importance, but only making himself appear even larger than he actually was. "It's about time the little freak started to earn his keep. We've fed him, clothed him, even gave him Dudley's second bedroom, and look how he repays our kindness! The moment he gets his hands on my hard earned money he vanishes, leaving us to clean up the mess! Well I won't! Do you hear me? He's a criminal! I've been saying it for years!"

Tonks all but growled her annoyance, her fingers tightening around her wand. This was getting absolutely ridiculous. The fact that Harry had to remain within the Dursley's household in order to benefit from the blood magic was starting to look like a particularly weak argument, especially considering the amount of years Harry had already endured. Before she could make another comment the gently hand of Remus Lupin stilled her movements. He didn't utter a word, but his action clearly told her to keep calm.

"How can you just stand there?" she hissed quietly. "Listen to what he's saying!"

"I'm hearing the same things you are, Tonks. I don't like it anymore than you do, but we need them. They were the last ones to see Harry before he disappeared."

"We should be out looking for him instead of standing here listening to these utter fools! What good are they hon-"

Dumbledore's voice cut across their whispered conversation, in his own way telling them that their conversatopm wasm't as quiet as they believed it to be. "Where did you send him?"

"He was supposed to be picking some things up from the Bastien's store," Vernon snapped, wanting nothing more than to throw the old man and his two lackeys out onto the street. All three of them deserved nothing more, in his opinion. The only think keeping him from attempting the feat was the wand gripped tightly in Tonk's hand.

"Did you see which direction he took when he left?"

"I don't blood know where he went! He obviously didn't go where he was told!"

There was a moment of silence before Dumbledore stood. "If Harry returns to this house, you will contact me immediately," he instructed, a hard and unfamiliar edge lingering threateningly in his tone. It was an edge that made Vernon and Petunia Dursley immediately nod for fear of the consequenses of not doing so.

Once it was clear that the Dursley's would not be disappointing him again, Albus Dumbledore took his leave of the Dursley's home, followed closely by a worried Remus and the still grumbling Tonks.

"What are we going to do?" Tonks asked, glancing up and down the street for any signs of Harry. "He can't be left out there on his own. What happens if Voldemort catches up with him before we do?"

"Remus, take Tonks and search the area around the shop that Vernon mentioned," Albus instructed calmly, his eyes focusing on a spot in the distance. He knew Harry wouldn’t be there, but it was apparent that in order to keep Tonks focused; she needed to be doing something constructive. "If you find him, bring him to Hogwarts. It is not like Harry to just wander off without contacting anyone. He may not be himself."

"You don't think-

"I think it's best not to rule out any possibilities."

The truth behind those words did nothing to ease Remus’ worry as he watched Albus stroll leisurely back down the street. There were some possibilities that he did not want to consider.

* * *

The lights flashed brightly behind his eyelids. Even when his eyes were closed it invaded his mind. He couldn't hide from it. The bright flashes lit up the darkness with ease, allowing all aspects of him to be bared. He'd never felt so exposed in all of his life. It felt as though there were calloused fingers, prying apart his very thoughts, each movement seeming to echo through his mind.

This isn't right! He thought frantically, trying to pull free of its ever tightening grasp. What's happening to me?

From the corner of his limited vision he spotted thick, dark tendrils starting to creep toward him. The colour of them complimented the very idea of eternal darkness. Nothing could penetrate it. Anything that touched it seemed to be engulfed and Harry couldn't help but yearn for the peace the darkness held. To be swallowed completely, protected from the harsh light and invading presence. In the darkness one could vanish and that was exactly what he wanted: to hide.

As though sensing his desires the tendrils started to worm their way toward him with an almost forceful determination. Moving toward him, they drowned out the light, creating shadows and darkness in its stead. Eternity seemed to pass as Harry waited for the darkness to reach him. When it did, the tendrils caressed his pale skin and calmed his beating heart as they wrapped him in its own protective embrace. The small sigh of contentment slipped past his lips without his realization.

"Wake up."

Harry blinked; the movement slow and sluggish. He didn't want to move. For once in his life he felt safe and completely content. There were no responsibilities and no threat of death and torture hanging over his head. He was safe here. The light couldn’t reach him here. Nothing could reach him if he didn't allow it.

“Open your eyes.”

No. I can’t.

"If you don't break free now, you will be forever lost within the darkness inside of you."

No...

"You must open your eyes. There has not been one like you in your bloodline for many generations. If you allow the darkness to control you it will mean your end, and the end of your line."

As the voice continued to whisper to him he could feel the darkness tightening its hold, coiling around him like a snake coils around its prey, breaking bones and suffocating the life out of him. The atmosphere had changed without him realizing it. This wasn’t the soothing quiet he’d first thought.

No! Stop!

Despite his pleas, he was sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness that, only a moment ago, had seemed like a blessing. Now it held nothing but the chilling familiarity of a grave, his voice forever echoing through the darkness.

"WAKE UP!"

Harry’s eyes snapped open with a gasp. Gone was the harsh light, the darkness, and the sinking feeling of doom. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over him as his eyes focused on the room around him. For the briefest moment he felt a rush of relief fill his very core. The feeling wasn't to last, however, as he began noticing the actual items around him. None of them were familiar; the bed, the walls, the mirror, nothing. This room was not one he had ever been in. It was just as unfamiliar as the dream. The panic was already starting to claw at his chest and his muscles were stiff beneath his cool skin.

“Relax. You are in no danger here.”

Sitting up quickly in his surprise, Harry gasped as the blood rushed to his head and his muscles screamed their protest.

“What...what’s going on?” he asked, his teeth gritting against the pain as his fingers crept toward the pocket where he normally kept his wand. He couldn’t remember what had happened. A portion of his memory was simply missing; a gapping hole in the middle of his mind. “Who are you?”

“My name is Soren and I am one of three High Lords of the British realm.”

“The what?”

“The British Realm. All Elfish communities are removed from that of the Wizarding realm. We do not like to become involved in the problems of men and prefer to remain secluded in our own realms.”

“Elves?” An image of Dobby immediately invaded his mind and he almost nervously let his eyes wander to see if the small creature was in sight.

For the second time soft laughter and amusement danced behind onyx eyes. “All shall be explained, but first you must drink and regain your strength. Your body is exhausted from the change. It will be a few hours before you are back to full strength.”

Harry's fingers carefully wrapped themselves around the delicate crystal goblet he was handed, a deep red liquid filling the cup. He couldn't force himself to worry about the discomfort and tension that coursed through his muscles. He was much more concerned with trying to figure out what was happening, despite the exhaustion that ran over his mind, particularly after each failed attempt to construct an explanation.

“Drink. It will help greatly.”

Glancing down at the goblet in his slightly shaky hands, Harry slowly brought it to his mouth and took a small drink. The sensation was shocking, to put it mildly. It was like drinking pure magic. The liquid slid down his throat with ease, right to his very core, tingling and warming, as it seemed to reach every inch of him.

“You must drink all of it,” Soren's calm voice cut across the relaxed stupor that had overcome him, “otherwise it will be ineffective.”

Ineffective? How can it be ineffective if I feel like this? He wondered vaguely, bringing the goblet to his mouth once more, continuing to drink until the pleasant warm sensations had grown to an almost painful burning. “No more,” he gasped, trying to take in air, “no more.”

“That shall suffice. The pain will ease as your body replaces the impure blood that it dispelled during your change.”

“Impure blood? Change? What?” He was even more confused, which something he had seriously hoped was impossible.

Soren smiled gently. He had seen many young ones through their change. Patience wasn't an issue. Standing up in a single fluid movement, he extended a hand. “Come, it is best if you see for yourself. I don't believe you will be too disappointed. The change has treated you kindly.”

The moment Soren's hand extended Harry had the strong urge to lie back down and return to his previous state of sleep. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what had happened. Maybe if he just slept he would wake up later and discover that it had all been nothing more than an insane dream. With some trepidation, Harry finally pulled up enough Gryffindor courage to reach out and accept Soren’s hand, hoping that the results of the past couple days weren't too horrible.

Soren held him steady as Harry walked on shaky legs. It felt distinctly like learning to walk all over again. With careful and slow steps, they moved together until they were standing in front of a beautiful full-length mirror. As Harry's eyes landed on his reflection they widened to an almost comical extent and his jaw dropped open in surprise. He could barely recognize the person in front of him. This wasn't Harry Potter. This was some exotic being he had never before met.

His hair had remained the same length it had been when he’d left the Dursley’s but it appeared far more smooth and silky, falling down and framing his pale face. The summer tan he had earned from spending long hours in the sun doing yard work had vanished, leaving him with a pale, milky complexion, creating a dazzling contrast to the dark shade of his hair. His eyes were no longer hidden behind wire frames and thick glass, allowing the bright, almost ethereal, colour to show clearly. As for his height, it seemed that he had not been done growing. He now stood at an even five feet, ten inches; a height he never thought he’d reach. His muscle mass had also shifted. Instead of being located mainly in his stomach, legs, and forearms from Quidditch, it was now more evenly spread, giving him an overall toned appearance.

Even though his new appearance was striking, what caught his attention was not the height, the eyes, or the hair. It was the ears. Long slender ears peaked out from the curtain of dark hair. In fascination he watched as he lifted a hand, brushed back his hair, and touched the tip, proving to himself that they were, in fact, real and extremely sensitive. He wasn't dreaming.

“What is going on?” he asked, catching Soren's eye in the mirror. “What have I become?”

“You are a Dark Elf and not just any elf, but the Dark Prince of the British Realm. We have been waiting for over five generations for you.”

Suddenly Harry no longer felt like he could stand. The breath seemed to rush out of him and he was trying desperately to find it again. “You have got to be kidding me,” he eventually responded, the question coming out with a nervous laugh. “There must be some sort of mistake. I couldn’t possibly …”

“I would never joke about such things,” Soren responded, seriously. “There has not been a Dark Elf in the Potter line for five generations. In the Elfish Councils one’s place can only be inherited through direct blood connection. This council has been struggling without a ruler for far too long. It is time that you took your place among us.”

Harry could do nothing but shake his head, his mind frantically trying to think up an explanation; a way out. “No...I can't. It's not possible. If I had Elfish blood in my family I would have known. Someone would have told me. First, I have to defeat Voldemort and now I have to be some Dark Prince? I don't think so. NO!”

“You cannot fight this. The fates have made your path clear. There is no point in trying to run for they have an uncanny ability to discover you, no matter where you choose to hide. Your destiny will continue to haunt you until you accept your true place in life.”

“I can't rule anything! Are you insane?”

“You will do splendidly. It is in your blood, after all. Fate chose you for a reason. When the time comes you will understand what to do and do it wonderfully. If you stumble along the way you have three High Lords beneath you, ready and willing to hold out a steady hand. We have managed since the death of the last Dark Prince, but the people need to be united beneath one figurehead.
“This is crazy! You are crazy!”

“You do not need to doubt yourself. It is pointless. This is your destiny, like it or not, and you will learn to be confident in yourself and to find the strength within you.” Soren responded, calmly, his voice soothing. “If you allow fate to take its course your struggles in life will lessen. Things will become easier for you.”

“Things will become easier for me?” he asked, incredulously. “Do you know who I am? Do you know what Voldemort will do to get a hold of me? This will only give him more of a reason to kill me. He'll tear this place apart and you want me to be a figurehead?”

“You need not worry about this Voldemort character. If you take your rightful place you will be surprised at who will be willing to stand at your side.”

“So they can die too?”

Soren, despite his best efforts, was starting to feel the impatience creeping up. The boy was still young and had dealt with more than his fair share of tragedies, so it was expected for him to be skeptical. Above all else, Soren had to remember that. “I will be blunt. If you do not accept who you are, you will die.”

There was silence for several moments: the kind of silence that echoed loudly. Harry couldn't say anything. What was one to say when someone plainly told you that you would die? Someone other than Trelawney, of course. Arguing the point didn't exactly seem like it was worthwhile, especially since he knew that there was a very good chance it might actually happen.

“Your people have been waiting five generations for you, but I will not allow you to ruin this council because you are not ready to accept who you are. You need to decide if you want this. Being an elf will grant you abilities that you never had as a wizard, but you will need training and guidance. In that respect, I can help you. But if you accept my help than you accept your place and purpose among us.”

There was once again no sound in the room, the silence stretching for several long minutes as the situation and its possible consequences ran through Harry’s mind. “I don't know how to rule anything,” he sighed, eventually. “How can I possibly be what's right for this council. I know nothing about Elves or politics.”

“Every great ruler has had to start somewhere. Everything you need to know, I can teach you.”

Harry sighed, considering his options. He had no idea what was happening to him. He could always wait and ask Dumbledore but that would mean returning to the Dursley's, which was something that he never wanted to have to do again. In all honesty, there would be no one better to describe and explain the responsibilities he would face as an elf than another elf. If Soren was right about developing abilities that wizards didn't have, than he could very well have an advantage over Voldemort and that wasn't something he wanted to give up lightly. It could mean the difference between life and death. On the other hand, if he agreed to this he would be a ruler of a kingdom. That wasn't something to take lightly either. People would be depending on him and every decision he made would be affecting someone.

“You will not be alone in this.”

Harry glanced up as Soren's gentle voice broke through his worried thoughts.

“I can understand that the idea of ruling can be very intimidating but you will not be alone. The role of High Lord is to help you make decisions that will help the entire kingdom. It is impossible for a single person to know the wants and needs of all the people and that is where we come in. I, for example, reside in the eastern corner of the British realm. I shall give you insight into what is needed in those lands.”

Harry took a deep, calming breath. “Okay...so...if I was to…accept my role here what would...how would this work?”

Soren hid a smile. Harry didn't need to say anything more. Things were falling into place as they should, despite his fear and uneasiness he was taking the first steps that would lead him to not only being a great ruler but an excellent man in general. “First thing, myself and the other High Lords will continue to keep everything in order while you study and learn everything you need, from politics to etiquette. As you progress we will transfer more and more responsibility to your shoulders until you are able to rule confidently.”

“Okay. That sounds all right...I think.”

Soren nodded, leaning back in the chair that he was seated in.

“I'm going to have to know a lot of people...aren't I?” Harry responded, his mind bringing up more issues he wasn't exactly comfortable with. “I don’t exactly like being in the spotlight. I get lots of attention in the Wizarding world and it isn't something I enjoy.”

“You need not worry about being thrust into the lime light. In the current situation the people of the British realm are aware that you have been found, but until you are ready you will not be placed in full view. The British realm isn't the only Kingdom of Elves. There are 8 other realms in eight other countries. Some of them are Dark Elves and some are Light. In the past, a great ball was organized to introduce a new ruler to the other realms, but, in this case, I believe it might be better if we arrange for a more personal meeting with the other rulers before holding a large function. This way you are able to get comfortable bit by bit.”

Harry had paled at the mention of meeting eight other courts. That would mean a ruler, and three High Lords, not to mention any spouses that might come along. He wasn't very good at names and he was sure that he was going to mess something up. “I think I like the more personal visits.”

“I figured that you would,” Soren chuckled, lightly.

“When did you plan on starting the meetings? I mean, I've only just been through this change. I'm sure the entire Wizarding world is looking for me, and I still have no idea how any of this happened. To be honest, I don't think it's really sunk in that I'll be ruling over an entire realm. It's...frightening.”

“Your first step will be to learn your own court before you attempt to learn that of others. In order to be a successful ruler you will need to build strong relationships with the people closest with you. This must be done before anything else can be considered.”
Harry nodded, leaning back against the headboard, intently listening to what Soren was explaining. He was still nervous about the entire situation but he had all but agreed to this. He wasn't about to screw up this early.

“The court is made up of an entirety of fifteen people; A Dark Prince, a High Consort and then the Three High Lords and their Consorts,” Soren explained. “Although it isn't common, there are situations were a Consort is replaced with a Second. Instead of Lord's mate ruling at their side they have taken a second. Someone who is more suited to ruling, such is the case with your Lord of the Western lands.

Each of the three High Lords resides over a section of the British realm. You're residence is located in the Northern section of the realm. I am the Lord of the Eastern lands. My consort Rosalind rules at my side. Lothair, the man who had accompanied me in finding you, is the High Lord of the Western lands. In his case, he has a second ruling at his side, by the name of Arsen. Finally, the Lady of the Southern lands goes by the name of Ilaria. By her side is her consort Caedmon. Beneath the High Lords there are five Royal healers and a High Seer. There names you will learn during your first introduction. It is a tradition that has long been held within this realm. “

Harry nodded; silently running over the names he'd just been given. He was pretty sure that he'd need to be reminded several more times before they stuck. Silently doing the math, he frowned. “That's only fourteen people. I thought you said the High Court was made up of fifteen people?”

Soren remained silent for a moment. This was usually the part he had trouble with. They either loved the idea or hated it. “Yes, there will also be a High Consort.”

“A High Consort?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds important. Who is it?”

“We don't know.”

“Why not?”

“Dark Elves are similar to several other magical creatures. When we love it's with every part of our hearts. We are a very conservative race and we do not share our bodies with anyone except our mates...our consorts.”

“A mate?” Harry frowned, not liking the sound of that. “You mean you don't have a choice of who you love.”

Soren nodded. “You won't have the choice. Fate already has a plan for you, which includes who your Consort will be.”

“Wait...High Consort. That's not just any consort...that's my consort! Isn't it?”

“Yes.”

“I can't have a mate. Voldemort will kill them!”

The older elf restrained the urge to roll his eyes. “If it is in their destiny to die by the hand of Voldemort, then it will happen. It does not matter whether or not their destiny is tied to you. You must let fate take its course.”

“How can I even ask someone to step directly into the line of fire? To put themselves at risk?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to find my mate, anyway? Is there some ceremony for that as well?”

“You will not be able to ask them anything. When you find them there will be nothing more important than being with them. They will become your world.” Soren explained, with a fond look in his eyes. “And no, there is no ceremony. You will find your mate when you are ready.”

“When I'm ready?”

“Yes.”

“And how do I know I'm ready? What if I meet my mate and completely miss the signs? What happens then?”

“You have to trust fate. That is the key to a happy existence,” Soren responded, calmly. “Until you do that you will be full of doubt. Once that doubt has cleared you will find everything in which you seek. Your Consort will not take their place until you are strong enough, both mentally and physically, to care for, provide for, and protect them.”

Harry opened his mouth to ask another question, but hesitated, unsure of how he should breach the subject. The Wizarding world was semi-tolerant and the Muggle world was hardly tolerant. He had no idea how a society of magical creatures would react. “What if a person isn't looking for...someone of the opposite sex?”

“Your Consort is not chosen on gender or appearance and your love will not be based on that either. You will be paired with someone who is your equal, someone of opposite characteristics. Someone to offer you balance, to make you whole. Gender does not matter.”

“So there are no prejudices about same sex couples?”

“I should hope not. The Dark Princess of Japan and her Consort are both female.” Soren smiled. “Love knows no boundaries in any race. You and I will live far longer than the social norms of the world around us. In fifty years the individuals who are creating the borders surrounding what is socially acceptable will be dead or dying and new individuals will take their place and create their own ideas of what is acceptable. You and I will watch the change come and go for many years. It is not for us to conform to their guidelines because we will outlive them.”

Harry was both upset and content with his answer. He was content with the idea that his sexual preference would not be an issue among the people, but he was slightly upset with the immortal aspect of his new life. He may live for centuries but those he loved and cared about would not. He would be watching as they grew old and passed on, leaving him one by one.

Soren read the emotions that flashed across his face as only one who had seen it a thousand times before could. It was hard for those who were not born into the Elfish realm. They had a connection with the outside world that kept their hearts tied to those lands. To fully realize that, at some point, all of those ties would be severed was not something that was taken lightly.

Before anything else could be done, Harry would need to face that and the only way he could accomplish that was on his own. Only he knew the entirety of his thoughts and emotions. “You have had a long day as it is, my Lord. I will take my leave and return tomorrow morning. You will need to be transported to your new home and your lessons will begin shortly after. There is much to discuss. I suggest you get lots of rest. I am afraid you will need it.”

Harry nodded, vaguely, watching the door close firmly behind the elf with a resounding thud that seemed to echo in the silence of the room. The changes were supposed to stop when he turned seventeen but things had only become more hectic. He was becoming a ruler of an Elfish realm and yet he was so tied to the Wizarding world that he couldn't understand how he was supposed to be in both. The Elfish realm needed him to rule and the Wizarding world needed him to rid it of Voldemort. Both wanted something from him that he wasn't sure he could give.

What have I gotten myself into?

to be continued....