The Depths of Darkness

Chapter Four
A Brief Introduction to the Dangers of Ruling a Kingdom

Harry had no idea how it had happened so quickly. One moment the opposing figures had been on the far ridge to their left and then, all of a sudden, they were violently crashing into a golden barrier that had materialized around Soren, Lothair, and himself, showering sparks of gold and silver with each point of contact. Soren remained still to Harry’s left and Lothair shifted to his right restlessly, a sneer planted firmly on his pale face. It was a sneer that could only be described as “taunting.” Their guards had shifted around them, their swords outstretched horizontally in front of them, their left palms resting against the blade of each sword. For the briefest moment, Harry wondered why they had swords instead of wands, but he was quickly distracted by what was happening on the surface of their weapons. If you looked closely you could just barely see small beads of light skittering across the metal. This strange show of magic seemed to be the source of their protective barrier, and ultimately had the unintended consequence of raising more questions concerning their use of magic. Naturally, they were questions that would have to wait. For the moment, all he could do was watch as the beads pulsed with every hit the barrier took.

The attack continued for several long moments before Soren moved. Had Harry been paying attention he would have noticed how the two High Lords interacted with each other. Despite Lothair’s desire to rush forth, he remained in place, allowing Soren to make the first move. Had Harry been paying attention, he would have noticed that even among the three High Lords there was a hierarchy of power and respect. What Harry did notice was that, even in the face of danger, Soren remained calm and collected, which in turn offered a sense of calm to the rest of them, or as much as Lothair could withstand. The dark haired man wasn’t exactly one for patience and remaining calm. Slowly and confidently bringing his horse out in front of them, Soren faced the opposing group with a look in his eyes that was nothing but cold and calculating. It was a look that Harry had yet to see on the face of his new found mentor.

“Halt this nonsense!” He responded forcefully, his voice ringing out far more than Harry thought it should have. Perhaps it was their location, or perhaps it was the magic around them helping to amplify the sound. Whatever is was he had to admit that the affect was impressive. Their attackers stilled, frozen by the very tone that echoed around them, their actions mimicking those under a quickly uttered freezing charm. Of course, this moment of stillness was not to last. It took a second or two, but Harry picked out movement from within the crowd in front of them. Slowly the elves were parting, a tall silhouette moving over the group as an individual moved forward to address the three assumed Lords.

“Your Majesties, have we angered you?”

The voice was low and held a menacing quality to it that matched his appearance. Harry could feel his skin crawl and the hair raise on the back of his neck. If there had been a moment in his past when he had ever thought Severus Snape as the most intimidating person he’d had the misfortune of meeting, he now stood corrected. Severus Snape could, in no way, be compared with the individual standing in front of him; the shallow skin and dark hair the only resemblance between them. Soren, in his earlier explanation of Dark Elf history, had stated that the race had changed over time, losing most of their vampiric features. For the first time, Harry doubted Soren’s words and this man was the cause of that doubt. His skin was pale as fresh snow, his hair long and of the deepest black shrouded his elongated features. Unlike Soren and Lothair, the strands of thick hair were not pulled back but hanging freely over the left side of his face, acting as a partial shield. The shudder that ran through Harry was something he could not resist as he wondered what the man was trying to hide, exactly. To make the situation frightfully worse, the eye that could be seen from beneath the dark fringe offered a dark and dangerous glint. Harry’s breath froze in his lungs as, for just the briefest moment, he felt himself fall into the line of vision. He felt completely out in the open; as though the individual in front of him could read him for who he was. He wasn’t a High Lord. He was nothing more than an outsider playing the role given to him.

“I should have known it was you, Roland,” Soren responded, his lips curving into an elegant sneer and distracting that piercing gaze from Harry; the freedom of that gaze allowing the air to finally be released from his lungs. “You are like a plague, spreading over these lands, destroying the life you find.”

“How kind of you to notice,” was the amused response. The lips of Roland had immediately curled back to reveal a single yellowed tooth, which, from Harry’s point of view, looked suspiciously long and sharp; easily sharp enough to draw blood if that was the intent.

By this point, Lothair could barely contain his need to face the threat head-on. His entire body was all but vibrating in his saddle, his fingers white from his ever tightening grip on the reigns. “You are nothing in comparison to us,” he hissed, no longer being able to restrain his speech as his mount took him further toward the edge of the barrier. “It will only take a word from me to have you skinned alive and hung on my wall, half-breed.”

Half-breed? The single word stirred within Harry a strong and familiar emotion. Despite the terror that he felt, particularly concerning the individual they referred to as Roland, he felt his mind reaching to defend him. He had heard that term used far too often within the world he had just came from. Purebloods verse Muggles. Was blood purity tearing apart this world as well?

Any further thought process in regards to the term was disregarded as Roland quickly moved forward, his fists hitting the wall of the barrier and sending a shower of gold sparks in the wake of their force. Had it not been for Harry’s newfound increase in senses, he would not have been able to see the moment. The speed at which Roland had moved was something beyond the limitations of human sight, however, with this rushed movement, a gust of air followed, far too clearly illuminated what had been hiding. It was something that he had not expected and yet, ultimately, terrified his heart into silence. As the wind had picked up around them in response to his actions, the dark curtain of hair shifted, revealing a clear view of a glowing red eye, with a pupil of pure darkness at its core. As the curtain of hair shifted once more to fall back over the terrifying sight, Harry was aware of it settling on him, acting out of step with his other eye as though it did not belong to the same individual.

“You are nothing,” Roland hissed, his lip pulled back with the snarled comment. “You will die by my hand before this is over. I swear that to you. Keep that in mind as you travel back with your precious ruler. Perhaps, if you are lucky, I shall keep you alive long enough to watch me rip his quivering heart out.”

Harry had never felt terror like he did in that moment. He had stood and faced the most powerful and dangerous man in the Wizarding world on several occasions and yet; he had not quakes as he was doing now. This elf…vampire…creature was something entirely different. He couldn’t say anything in defense of himself. The words he might have sought refuge in had taken their leave long before the uttered threat had been presented and there was no hope of finding them again. All he could do was watch as they slowly retreated, all but disappearing into the woods around them. As the last of them vanished, Harry was sure of only one thing; Roland had known immediately who he was. It would not matter how well he was disguised or how well he was hidden. Roland would know.

“As I was saying,” Soren responded, startling Harry back from the world of terror that he had been lost in moments before and signaling for the guard to remove the shield. That level of protection was no longer needed. The sounds of swords being slid back into their sheaths made him tighten his own grip on the reigns. He had never been one for weapons, but he was currently very aware of his lack of one at his side. “There will always be those who do not wish to have a ruler.”

The tone by which that statement was delivered caused Harry to turn his attention to Soren, his expression quite clearly conveying the incredulous belief that Soren was completely, and hopelessly, out of his mind.

“That wasn’t just any group! Did you not see his eye? I don’t even know what he is!” His response was projected with far more fear and volume than he had meant to convey, but it was honest, which was something, he felt, was needed at the moment. “At least with Voldemort I know what to except!”

Lothair didn’t say anything, his opinion of the situation was quite clear in the way he forcefully turned his horse in the direction of their previous destination and began to move the group forward once again. As he moved, the guard shifted and fell into position with him, effectively ushering Soren and himself into the middle of their protective circle. Even with his new fears Harry had to stop and note the conformity and unity that stood among this particular group of individuals. When the weight of a smooth hand rested on Harry’s shoulder, he very nearly jumped out of his skin. His heart had already been beating wildly against his ribcage. With the sudden touch, Harry had to wonder at what point an individual’s heart could no longer handle the stress.

All that aside, he was once again starting to doubt Soren’s conviction that he could handle being the ruler of a kingdom of magical creatures. It was, most certainly, a daunting thought, particularly after their current experience. Being thought of as the Savoir of the Wizarding world was much different than ruling it.

“There will always be danger, Harry,” Soren responded with nothing but honestly. As much as Harry would have liked the tone to be soothing, he did appreciate the emotion. After having the majority of his story withheld from him in the past, it was refreshing to have someone willing to offer the information he needed without having to demand it, even if it did mean there was one more psycho in the world that wanted him dead. “It doesn’t matter where you are, in this realm or the Wizarding world, you will always face some form of disapproval. What you have to keep in mind is that without a form of leadership, elves like Roland are free to have as much power as they wish.”

“He is NOT an elf!”

Harry was startled once more at the sudden eruption of disapproval, turning his glance toward Lothair as he turned his horse around to face them. The anger on the elf’s face was clear and intimidating. His anger seemed to bring his fierce features to life, giving him an entrancing, yet frightening, appearance. It was intriguing. Catching himself staring, Harry looked away, a small blush settling over his cheeks as Lothair continued, effectively drawing any attention that might have settled on Harry’s blush.

“You will not dirty our kind by claiming that he is one of us! He will never be an elf and to call him so is an insult to our race.”

“What is he?” Harry asked, daring to interrupt the tense situation between Lothair and Soren. He was curious and considering the power and influence the two elves had, figured it would be better than allowing their frustrations to turn into a more violent confrontation. Lothair had mentioned Roland being a half-breed. If he wasn’t an elf than what could he possibly be? More importantly, why was Roland the leader of a bunch of rebel elves that wanted nothing more than to see him dead? It just didn’t make sense.

“He is an abomination! He should have been destroyed years ago.”

“Lothair, you will reign in your anger!” Soren responded, his voice unusually sharp.

“I will do no such thing! You know there is truth in my words, Soren. It was a weak decision.”

Harry was not only surprised that Soren did not immediately respond to this, but he was also incredibly confused. He had previously thought that nothing could confuse him further, but he had, apparently, been wrong. Why had Lothair made it sound as though Soren was responsible?

“What are you talking about? What is he?”

Soren and Lothair continued to glare at each other for several long moments before Lothair finally made a noise of disgust and pulled his horse around, turning his back on the two of them and moving, once more, to the front of the group. Harry didn’t dare ask the question again. The tension between the two elves was still resonated within the small confines of the protective circle, despite the distance between Soren and Lothair.

“It is true that we have descended from the joining of elves and vampires, but the practice is not looked kindly upon in this current era,” Soren started, his voice returning to it’s regular soft pitch as he turned his attention back to Harry. “It’s taken years of change to reach the stage of development that we exude. When the current bloodlines are combined it has varying results. Roland is one such variation. What you must understand is that the pairing of a vampire and dark elf is considered against regulations only because we cannot predict the outcome. With Roland the darker vampire blood has dominance in his personality, reacting poorly with the dormant vampire that lies in the Dark elf bloodline. I’m sure you saw his eye, after all, it is hard to miss when he is angry.”

Harry nodded. He remembered. It would be something he would remember it for a very long time to come. Not even Voldemort’s own gaze, which had always held so much hatred and violence, could be compared to the one he had fallen under that afternoon. It was something that he hoped he would never become used to seeing. “Yes. I saw it.”

“It is because of that occurrence that our people are afraid to combine the bloodlines for a third time. Many years ago there was an outbreak of such offspring. Roland is technically the last of those born in that era.”

“What happened to the others?” Harry asked, fearing the answer he was going to get but knowing that this was a part of their history he needed to know. His mind had already drawn up images based on his understanding of the feelings of outright hatred that stemmed from the similar sense of prejudice within the Wizarding world. From Lothair’s earlier comment, he had a strong sense that he already knew the answer Soren was about to present to him.

“They became extremely violent as they aged. In several occasion these individuals killed their immediate families; brothers, sisters, parents. Within our realm that is the ultimate betrayal. The family unit is the strongest within our society and to destroy that is to destroy what symbolizes the strength of our Kingdom. We were leaderless at the time of this outbreak. Your ancestor had passed on several years previous and it fell to us to decide what needed to be done. Roland was just a boy at the time and he had not yet reached the point where the violence had taken control of him. He was like any other child in our realm. He never showed signs of anger or deviance that many of the other children of mixed blood had shown. It was eventually suggested that he be killed as well, to ensure that the mixed bloodline came to a complete end. There was no guarantee that he would not develop along the same path that the others had. However, in order to go through with the action, all three of the High Lords had to be in agreement and it was my vote that prevented his death.”

Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing. The ties to Voldemort were blatantly obvious. Surely they didn’t expect him to do such things. He couldn’t. He simply wouldn’t become Voldemort, no matter how dangerous an individual was. “They were killed? Is that still practiced? I’m not going to kill anyone. I don’t care what bloodline they have or how dangerous they are.”

Soren held up a hand to stop Harry’s almost panicked rant. “You can relax, Harry. That is the last known occurrence. Once you are ruler you will make the decision on punishments. You must understand that the people were frightened. At a time when we did not have stable government something had to be done to appease and protect the population.”

Harry nodded, taking a calming breath as he continued to guide his horse along beside Soren’s. His nerves were still pulled tight; every thing within him was screaming that he decision to become the ruler of this strange world was a huge mistake. “Alright, so if you said that Roland was like the other children, why has he become what he has? Why does he want to kill me?”

“Once he became of age, his vampire ancestry became more dominant. When the others were killed he was just a boy. He couldn’t remember it. When he discovered what had been done, his reaction was far stronger than we had ever thought it would be. He withdrew from society, picking up stray and rouge elves as his followers. He wants revenge for what was done and the thought of killing you to get what he wants has done nothing to stop him. He wants to see our structure fall into ashes, no matter the obstacles.”

“So he’s more Vampire than elf?”

“In a sense,” Soren started with a small sigh. “Yes, he has a higher degree of Vampire blood in his system than most of us, but that doesn’t mean he simply has more of that magic in him. Combining the magic of two very different species is always a dangerous game. With us, the reaction between the bloods was stabilized. However, when you play with things that are already on the edge they can easily be pushed into an unforeseen direction. With Roland, the magic hasn’t come together. Essentially, he is two identities trapped within a single body. For the most part, he can contain the evil within him, but when he is angry he changes. He loses control and his perspective shifts to embrace his darker yearnings. It wouldn’t be such a problem if that other aspect of him wasn’t as dangerous as it is.”

“Then how are we supposed to deal with him?” Harry asked, wracking his brain for a logical answer and coming up with absolutely nothing. He had never met anyone with more than one personality, let alone an individual whose second personality wanted to kill him. His previous problems were simple structures. This was something entirely different. He was currently treading water, the fear of what would happen with the next wave hanging over his head. It was an exhausting situation to be in. “If he’s that dangerous why did we just let him go? What if he hurts someone?”

“It is a complicated matter,” Soren responded somewhat hesitantly as he turned his attention ahead of them to the thinning tree line. “He has gathered many supporters, some of which are rogue vampires, or rather, vampires who have broken from the covenant and do not follow the rules and guidelines set out by the Elders. If Roland is threatened by an attack from our forces those vampires will defend him. For hundreds of years our realm has maintained a very delicate treaty of peace with the Vampire Covenant. To attack a member of that species, even one such as a rouge, would mean the complete destruction of that peace. The only way in which we would be permitted to take action, without destroying our relationship with the Vampire Covenant, would be if the Covenant was in full agreement.”

“If he’s dangerous than why would they not be in agreement?”

“Roland has not posed a threat to the Covenant and he will not do so. If he remains unimportant to them, he successfully creates a sense of immunity for himself. While it is frustrating, it is also incredibly smart,” Soren explained, glancing away to the left, his eyes roaming over the tree line there. Harry’s eyes followed his, catching the small movement among the closely packed trees. Upon noticing, Harry’s body tensed. He was not ready for another attack. He was facing his new responsibilities with some difficulty and he really didn’t need anymore trouble for the moment.

Thankfully, as they continued on their way toward his new home, whatever was hiding in the trees remained there. No terrifying creatures rushed toward them intent on the kill, for which Harry was extremely grateful. He was well aware that his nerves could not handle another dangerous surprise. “Well, I think that is quite enough about Roland and his band of rouges. What is important is that you learn what you need to in order to be the ruler of this Kingdom.”

With Soren’s words, Harry’s attention was drawn back to him somewhat reluctantly. While there were groups of individuals out for his blood he didn’t think he could whole-heartedly focus on something else, particularly the reason as to why that group of individuals wanted him dead. He strongly hoped that Roland and Voldemort never crossed paths. The last thing he needed was for the two of them to get the crazy idea to work together. With that thought on his shoulders he doubted that he would be any sort of significant ruler, but he held his tongue. He had said he would try, after all, and he figured he might as well do just that.

“Now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”

Harry forced himself to think back past their encounter with Roland and pushed past the horrible lingering image of that eye and the dark foreboding that it had created within him. He was sure that image would be there to haunt his dreams for a long while to come, leaving him far more restless and jumpy than he was accustomed to. “Blood. We were talking about having to drink Dragon’s blood if my mate was to experience the change.”

A small smirk, drifted over Soren’s face when his thoughts caught up to what Harry had reminded him. “Too right you are,” He chuckled, his dark eyes turning to focus on Harry once more. “I suppose you have questions about the concept of having a mate.”
Harry couldn’t decide where to begin. He just saw so many things wrong with that particular situation. He had Voldemort and now this Roland character after him. If he had a mate, they’d be in danger for simply associating with him. Of course, the fact that he had no choice not only in whether he wanted a mate, but also in whom that mate would be, certainly wasn’t making him jump for joy. “What will happen if I choose not to seek out my mate?”

Soren’s eyebrow rose at the question. He had been dealing with the newly changed for many years and not once had he been faced with that particular question. Many took to the idea of having an equal that would love them unconditionally, no matter the situation. For the few that did raise objections, they normally accepted the fact that it would happen, albeit grudgingly. Either way, things had always developed between the intended two according to plan. As Harry raised this new question, Soren found himself wondering if perhaps things weren’t going to go as smoothly as they had in the past, which was something they could not afford to have happen if they had any hope in rebuilding the peace their kingdom desperately needed. “You will not have the choice. You will not be able to fight your body’s natural reaction.”

Harry sighed and made a movement with his hand to single him to continue. “Just humour me for a moment. If somehow we were separated what would happen?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer but a part of him insisted that he know, even if he couldn’t do a thing about it. It was far better to be prepared. He’d learned the hard way that running in headfirst didn’t turn out well. Someone always ended up being hurt.

Soren, for his part, took a moment to organize his thoughts before he answered Harry’s inquiry. His answer could have a great effect on their collective future, and he wasn’t about to risk a callous response. “You would suffer far more than your mate, if, for some reason, the two of you were forced apart. As I have said, you will not be able to resist making a bond with your chosen. No one has been able to resist that connection in the past, so, naturally, there are no known consequences of resisting. If you are separated for a long period of time, the two of you will feel a deep sense of pressure both mentally and physically. Your body will become chilled and unable to warm itself until the bond has been soothed and you will be overcome with the need to be close to your partner. In order to become whole again you will need to return to the side of your mate and let your auras heal the damage that has been caused to the bond.”

“And if one of us dies?”

That really was the most important question on Harry’s mind. It was a depressing thought, but one that could not be ignored. A long time ago he had come to terms with the very real possibility that he would not walk away from his ever approaching confrontation with Voldemort. He couldn’t hide from it and he couldn’t force anyone else to hide from it along side of him. No matter how much he despised it, the definite possibility of death was a rather strong reality.

“If you have not consummated the bond than your mate will survive. They will feel a deep sense of longing that nothing will be able to lessen, but they will survive. I know that this might sound like a way for you to protect them, Harry, but I have to ask you to think seriously about what sort of life would be left for them to lead,” Soren instructed, his voice gentle. “If you have consummated the bond they will die. If your positions were switched and you’re mate is killed than you will follow them immediately. The loss of a mate is a terribly thing for any elf to withstand. The pain and anguish will be too much for you to bear and you will follow them into the afterlife. However, if you die the fate of your mate will depend on how strong the bond has grown. If, for instance, it is in the early stages of development, than your mate will be able to survive. The pain will not lessen but they will be able to cope with it if they so wish. If the bond has progressed further than that point they will, eventually, wilt under the destruction force of their grief and follow you into death.”

Harry let out the deep breath he had been holding. In the matter of a few short moments Soren had made all of his fears a reality. He had the very real chance of experiencing the kind of love that many spend their entire life looking for, but it came at the cost of risking the life of an innocent person. As wonderful as the thought of having someone stand beside him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do live with himself if his mate was put into danger because of him. Death, both his own and that of his mate, haunted him from both sides.

“This is not something that can be changed, Harry,” Soren responded after allowing the young man a moment of thought. As he watched, his attention was drawn to a tension that had developed in Harry’s arms and jaw. It was a tension that did not sit well with the older Elf. “Ultimately the decision will be yours to make, but I implore you to think carefully before you act. I understand your fear of endangering another individual, particularly one that you will end up loving, but if it was I in your position, I would much rather experience Rosalind’s love for a short period of time, then continue living with the knowledge that she will never truly be happy with anyone else. If you decide to pull away, ensure that you are comfortable with knowing that you will be robbing your partner of the happiness that is entitled to them. It is a heavy burden to bear.”

It was a lot to think about and a lot to put on the boy’s already burdened shoulders, but Soren did not feel sorry for placing the added weight there. Harry was stronger than he looked and much stronger than he gave himself credit for. When the time came to make a decision, Soren had no doubt that Harry would make the right one.

“For the moment, do not put too much of your concentration into the idea of your mate. Your biggest concern right now is learning not only the way of our world, but also the concept of our magic,” Soren pressed on after several long moments of silence. Despite the inner turmoil he knew Harry to be facing, their time was already limited. September was quickly approaching and there were many things that needed to be accomplished. “The idea of having a mate will have to be faced when you reach that bridge. There is nothing that can be done to prepare you.”

Harry eventually nodded his understanding, but he was only semi-aware of what was being said. He had allowed his mind to drift as the older elf had talked about experiencing love. It was something that Harry had never felt. He loved Hermione and Ron, but this was something that would far outreach what he felt for his two closest friends. This was something much stronger. He had thought he had experienced love in the past, but it had always been relatively one sided. The girls he had dated had never really loved him, but rather the idea of him. To have someone accept all of him was something he had never thought he could have. It was a temptation that, even as he argued against it, pulled at his thoughts. His mind was too far gone to be worried about the meaning of Soren’s words, as he continued to fall deeper into his inner workings. What he did notice, however, was the slowly growing scent of oranges that caressed his delicate senses. The scent of citrus was not something he was unfamiliar with, but to his surprise his very heart rate seemed to quicken as it wrapped around him. Beneath the smooth layer of his clothing, a pleasant shiver ran over his skin as his mind’s eye caught the briefest glimpse of pale skin.

“Harry?”

His sense of time and location was jarred dangerously as Soren’s voice pulled him harshly back to reality, which left his senses in a mad scramble to ground himself once more. He may not have been prepared for his reentry into reality, but he was certainly aware that he had both the attention of Lothair and Soren. To make matters worse, he suddenly felt very uncomfortable under their piercing gaze, as though he’d been caught doing something that he was not suppose to.

“What did you see?”

It was a simple question and yet it sent Harry’s nerves and embarrassment into over drive. “See? I didn’t see anything?” he responded, his voice far too high and fast to be convincing. Despite his protests, Soren and Lothair shared a look that spoke volumes. It was a look that Harry correctly interrelated as their complete and utter disbelief. The two of them knew exactly what was going on.

“It is natural for an elf to experience-” Soren’s voice drifted for a moment as he attempted to find the best way to explain the situation without further embarrassing him.

“Erotic day dreams about their mates?” Lothair supplied, looking very much like the cat that ate the canary. He wasn’t sure exactly why he took so much pleasure in goading the recent arrival, but when the opportunity arose he certainly couldn’t pass it up. There was something entirely amusing with the way that the boy floundered. Soren on the other had did not appear at all amused.

The flush that had already settled on Harry’s cheeks deepened drastically. “I didn’t see anything!” He insisted, knowing full well that his statement was a complete lie. He had definitely seen something, however, for the moment he was confused as to the meaning behind his vision. In all honesty, it hadn’t been what he had seen that had affected him, nor had it been the scent of oranges. What had grabbed his attention the most was the way his heart had beat against the curve of his ribcage with anticipation, excitement, and an emotion so powerful he could have sworn it was love.

Lothair didn’t look as though he believed him and, if he was to be honest, Harry couldn’t blame him. His reaction certainly wasn’t helping in his desire to promote his claim that he had not seen anything. “Oranges. I could smell oranges,” he eventually muttered in response, deciding that it would be best to give them some form of insight, before Lothair took it upon himself to personally discover the truth.

“Great,” Lothair snorted, turning his horse around once more. “The kid’s got a fixation with fruit.”

An embarrassed, if somewhat exasperated, retort was just making its way from Harry’s mouth as the group crested the last hill. The sight that met them drew Harry’s mind from any half formed thoughts of revenge to the scene that was slowly being revealed to him. To either side of them the trees fell away almost delicately, revealing a splendid view of the valley bellow. Lush green fields spread out after the dense cluster of ancient trees had ended, dotted with various forms of wildlife. The further into the valley his eyes traveled the more dwellings he spotted, each one rising out of the vegetation around it regally. The beautiful sight seemed to stretch on for miles before him before it reached the base of the largest structure to call the valley home.

It was nestled within the heart of the valley, comfortably surrounding by smaller dwellings and, despite its location, there was nothing similar between the castle and the creations around it. The structure of the castle reminded him vaguely of Hogwarts, but this structure could hardly be described as something he had seen before. Ivy seemed to stretch its delicate fingers over the walls of the castle as its towers climbed higher and higher, the last remaining rays of the sun glinting off their high windows. The sight was truly breathtaking.

“Welcome home, Harry.”

to be continued....