Last time….

Hermione took a step forward, and screeched as Harry turned, evidently to flee. He hesitated for a moment longer, but that was enough – time enough for Hermione to reach out and snag the back of his robes with one hand, time enough for Snape to dive after her with a guttural cry of his own. And then she knew nothing but pain, as her whole body seemed to stretch in a million different directions at once before spinning her around at speeds faster than she knew possible. She only caught one more glimpse of Harry's frightened face, staring at her through the impossibly bright light, before she passed out altogether.

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Snape doubled over – or tried to – as he felt his body being ripped apart. He had no idea what strange magics were working on his thin frame, so he tried to stay conscious. He had only wanted to hold the two children back – not be pulled along for this – whatever it was.

He fought panic as the sensation increased, along with the burning light that filtered bright red through his closed eyelids. He screwed his face up in an effort not to pass out, and clung to consciousness with all his might, and was so intent on staying alert that he was badly startled when the sensation suddenly stopped.

He opened his eyes slowly to find himself lying prone on a cushion of grass, grass that was a rather strange shade of green – it was almost as if the colours had been turned up extra bright.

He quickly shut his eyes again, the light seeming to pierce his skull with a throbbing sharpness that he had only experienced a few times before.

He moved as if to sit up, but fell flat again as shooting pains stabbed at the backs of his eyes.

He was about to make one final effort when he felt cool hands on either side of his face, and a strange, light touch in his mind – not quite invading, but rather softly permeating around the edges, like a warm mist that drifted in and suddenly dampened the pain in his head.

Snape finally gathered enough concentration to sit up and open his eyes, and found himself staring into the ashen face of the Boy-Who-Lived, who looked (if at all possible) more frightened than Snape had ever seen him before.

"Potter," he hissed menacingly, but didn't manage to get another word past his teeth before he felt alien magics surround him, freezing him still where he sat.

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Harry felt himself tumbling through the mists of the portal, every atom of his body screaming in panic. Snape, Hermione, what would happen to them? Portals were not meant for human bodies – or at least not those without a touch of elven magic in them –

He was spat out rather unceremoniously onto the grounds of the Vale entrance, and immediately sprang to his feet, looking on either side of him for Snape and Hermione. He saw Snape first, struggling feebly to open his eyes and sit up. He looked, for the most part, intact, and Harry heaved a mental sigh of near-hysterical relief before quickly bending to place a gentle hand on either side of Snape's face.

He reached out gently with his Healing energies, soothing away the reaction-headache that he was sure was blinding his professor. It felt odd, to be so intimate with his teacher – and yet he blushed despite himself, feeling almost gratified.

He pulled back and looked down at Snape, only to find his eyes open and looking very irritated indeed.

"Potter," Snape hissed, and Harry opened his mouth to say something, anything –

But he was saved by the Elven guards, who reached out with their magic to immediately freeze in place the unfamiliar intruders.

"Brothers!" he called out quickly, forming the Elven words without a second thought. "It is I, Harry! I come to you in desperation – but these two came as well, by accident – do not harm them, I beg you –"

Harry knew he was babbling, near hysterics, and yet he didn't care, as long as they didn't hurt his friends.

Snape is a friend? he thought fleetingly, before one of the guards – Daedeth, a friend of his from training and quite a young elf by their standards – approached, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Harry?" he whispered, forming the words almost soundlessly. "Sylroth?"

Harry grinned at his friend's childish name for him, an Elven word meaning "harmony in the forest." Daedeth had sworn that Harry could calm a raging storm of he turned his brilliant green eyes skyward – the guileless elf had always been drawn to the brilliant green of Harry's emerald orbs, a stark contrast to the usual grey of the elves' eyes. Their friendship had led to a brief tryst, nothing more – but it was still odd, to see him for the first time in what seemed like an unbearably long separation to Harry.

"Yes, Daedeth," he said, calmly snapping his magical bindings. "I have returned."

"Oh, Sylroth," Daedeth whispered again, coming forward to embrace his friend. "We have been lost for so long now," he said, his words muffled against Harry's shoulder. "This disease comes upon us and we cannot fight it – so many lie dead – we are some of the few left standing, sent out to guard the entrance, and you come, and you can help – please say you can help."

Harry gripped his friend tighter, tears coming to his eyes once more. For an elf to show this much emotion, the situation had to indeed be as grave as Daedeth described.

"I will try, my friend," he said, extending a brief mental caress.

An outraged noise from behind him brought him back to the present, and he turned to see a furious Snape glaring at him from the ground, headache apparently completely gone.

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Snape watched in astonishment as Harry greeted the newcomer in a foreign tongue, a liquid and beautiful language that was beautiful to hear. He felt a wave of unexplainable anger well up in him when the two embraced, and managed to force out a strangled cry of outrage as he felt his magical bonds slip a bit. The two turned to face him, and he thought he saw an indescribable expression on Harry's face for just a second before he resumed his usual serene mask.

"Professor," Harry said, gesturing to the other young man. The elf immediately uttered a strange word, and his magical bonds released. Harry knelt by his side, and Snape felt a moment of irritated gratification as the boy helped him into a sitting position.

"Professor, this is my friend Daedeth," Harry said in English, speaking slowly, apparently for the elf's benefit. "We are, as you can see, in the Vale. You and Hermione inadvertently followed me here." An irritated expression crossed his face. "Now, there is no way back unless I build you a portal again – and I would, first, like to see exactly what the effects on your bodies are for the time being."

Harry then left his side and went to Hermione, who was still passed out on the ground a few feet to his left. Snape watched bemusedly as Harry put his hands on either side of her head, kneeling close to her and staring intently into her face. A few moments passed, and Hermione began to stir. Harry sat back with relief evident in his features.

"H-Harry?" Hermione said weakly. Snape watched with some amusement as she tried and failed to sit up, conveniently forgetting the fact that he had been in the same position not moments earlier. Suddenly conscious of his vulnerable (not to mention undignified) position, he shakily heaved himself to his feet, glaring around at the young elf who was still watching him with some trepidation. He smirked. Fear was a thing he prided himself on being able to inspire.

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Harry knelt by Hermione's side, supporting her as she finally brought her body upright. She looked for a moment as if she was going to be ill, and gasped in slight surprise as a wave of warm energy washed through her. She looked up at Harry, who seemed to be concentrating intently.

"Harry – where are we?" she asked, looking around fearfully. Her eyes widened as they fell on Daedeth, who looked very strange indeed to her in his robes, mottled green and yet undeniably elegant. Tattoos of some sort were clearly visible around his wrists, showing up as bracelets woven of inked-in waves and storm clouds. The tips of his pointed ears were just barely visible under his long mane of silver-blonde hair, and his slightly slanted eyes, almost like a cat's, were as silver as the night moon.

"It's OK, Hermione," she heard Harry say quietly as she stared at this strange apparition. "You've managed to somehow follow me to a place that I stayed for a while. These people will not harm you, if you do nothing to try and harm them. Just relax for a moment – I need to make sure that the journey has not harmed you in any way. Does anything feel unusual or out of place with your body?"

Hermione noted faintly that his whole demeanor had changed – he was tensed and rigid, and yet somehow more at ease than she had seen him at any time in the past few months. He spoke more formally as well, but seemed to take no notice of his sudden shift in attitude.

"I'm…..fine, I think," she said dazedly, trying to concentrate on her body long enough to ascertain if there was anything wrong. "Sore, but OK."

Harry nodded briskly, and then held out a hand to help her to her feet. She clung to him briefly as the world spun around her, and then finally righted itself.

"Harry – what is this place?" she whispered, still staring around her, awed at the foreign sights that met her eyes. Strange plants grew all about the sides of the path that they stood on, and she heard several animal cries that were definitely not like any she had ever heard or read of. She cringed for a moment as the strange man took a step forward, and looked up at Harry for guidance as the young man stepped closer to stare closely into her face.

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Harry stood by wordlessly as Daedeth stepped forward to examine Hermione, no doubt fascinated by the second human that he had ever seen in his life – third, if you counted Snape. Hermione shrunk back against him, but he pushed her gently forward. He suppressed a smile as Hermione awkwardly held out her hand, and Daedeth took it, equally as uncertain.

"Hermione, this is Daedeth," he said slowly. "Daedeth, this is my friend Hermione."

"Hel-lo Hermionay," the young elf said awkwardly. "Wel-come."

Hermione nodded.

Harry watched as the two studied each other for a moment, and then stepped forward.

"Daedeth. I need to know what exactly is going on, and how I can help," he said quietly, in Elven. "I have had the sickness and have fought it off, and I believe that my human magics can help to heal others as well. What is the situation, exactly?"

"I will tell you that in confidence," Daedeth said slowly, glancing at the two humans standing on either side of Harry. "What of the two humans? How have they come to be here? What will we do with them – and what will the Council do with you?" he said, looking suddenly frightened. Harry smiled mirthlessly.

"I doubt the Council is in any shape to do anything with me right now. And as for them, they followed me through the Portal when they saw me about to leave. I was careless, yes, but it was not my intent to bring them here. They can be sent to stay somewhere until my work is done."

Daedeth nodded, and turned to go. Harry knew that he had to find somewhere for the humans to stay. He moved as if to follow, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Harry," she said nervously, "What are you doing? What are we doing?"

Harry turned back to her, and took a deep breath. He had hoped that it could wait, but it was evident that he had some explaining to do. He motioned Snape over as well – the man had been lurking at a distance with his arms crossed menacingly – and quietly explained the events of the past few months.

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Snape listened intently as Harry – Potter, he reminded himself – quickly recounted for Hermione the bare details of his stay with the elves. His ears perked up as Harry described the sickness that had befallen the elves, and his brows snapped together as Harry – Potter! – stated that they would be sent to temporary quarters to rest until provisions could be made.

"What do you mean, quarters, Potter?" he hissed, feeling mildly irritated. "Did the thought never cross your mind that we may be of some assistance, and not just a hindrance to your plans?"

The boy stared at him for a moment, plainly astonished.

"Sir, I – I didn't think," he admitted, which surprised Snape. "I assumed that you'd just want to get out of here as soon as possible."

Snape scowled. "You should know by now, Potter, that I do not take well to feeling useless. If you would permit me to accompany you on your rounds among the ill, I may be of some use. At the very least I could provide another set of hands, which seem to be so sorely needed here."

He saw, with some measure of guilty satisfaction, that Potter flinched slightly at those words, and wondered if the boy wasn't feeling guilty himself for not having come sooner.

"You're right," Potter said wearily. "You should come help. We all need it. Though I don't yet know what help your magic can provide, it shouldn't hurt to try."

Snape smirked inwardly, trying to tell himself that he was not glad that the boy had at least acknowledged the fact that he might be able to help.

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Harry strode briskly towards the Gathering Hall, the huge, high-ceilinged building which was normally used for festivities but was now the makeshift sickbay. As he approached, he nearly doubled over at the feelings of death and dying that emanated from the building, which had suddenly taken on an ominous air.

He reached the huge double doors, marvelously crafted from pure Elven oakwood, and paused for a moment to collect himself before quietly pushing one of them open before them.

He walked in and stood, frozen, ad the sight that greeted his eyes. At least two hundred, if not more, of his people lay dying on makeshift cots. From what he could see, it was the most they could do to even roll over, so drained were they from fighting the illness.

He glanced quickly up as he thought he felt a hand briefly grip his shoulder, but then quickly returned his gaze to the scene that lay before him. The only one near enough was Snape, but he wouldn't have…..would he?

Harry turned and stood aside to let Hermione into the room as well, closing his eyes at her gasp of dismay.

"Oh, Harry….." she said softly, one hand over her mouth. "I never imagined – it's like some sort of plague. I'm so sorry."

Harry bowed his head briefly before straightening once more. "We need to find out what we can do to help," he said firmly, his voice not betraying the dread he felt inside. "There's nothing to be done by standing here and gaping."

He thought he saw Snape nod briefly out of the corner of his eye as he turned and strode toward the most senior Healer present, determined to find a way to help the situation.

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A/N: I KNOW, it's been toooo long since my last update. I'm a miserable failure. And exams are coming up in a week, so it'll probably be ANOTHER while before another update.

Truth be told, I've completely lost inspiration for this story and have no idea where to go with it. If anyone has any suggestions, feel free to review or email or whatever strikes your fancy.

Hopefully I can keep this going; I hate to abandon a fic in the middle and I know how disappointing that is. (Ever read Midnight Blu's The Mirror Of Maybe?)

So let me know what you think, sorry for the kinda blah ending to this chapter. Things will get better, I promise!