It takes two to make an Adventure

"How are you feeling?" Elrond inquired as he rested his hands behind his back, eyes firmly set upon the raven-haired stranger who laid wrapped in bandages in his Hall of Healing.

Bleary-eyed from exhaustion and accompanied with an air of defeat, Harry could find little will within himself to put up a fight or even keep his guard up. He was too tired, too spent to even care anymore.

"I'm living." He croaked, not able to call himself 'fine' nor 'okay.' He wasn't either one of those things, and he wasn't going to spend the last of his energy trying to lie to himself or others. No doubt, Mad-Eye would have turned in his grave if he knew he'd been honest with a stranger.

"Noted." A small smile tugged at Elrond's lips, "You were in poor condition when you appeared in my garden. Do you remember how you ended up there?"

Harry licked his lips, though he wasn't nervous – merely thirsty. No later than that thought came to him did he have a glass of water in his hand, courtesy of Elrond. He took a sip, gathering his thoughts. Frankly, he cared not who knew about him, and if this person was indeed correct about the fact that he'd ended up in his garden, then it wasn't more than fair, to be honest with him. By all accounts, the man had taken the time to tend to his wounds as well.

"I've never seen someone like you before." Harry began, eyes moving from his luminous skin to the pointed ears that stuck up from a beautiful curtain of dark chocolate hair. "By that fact alone, I'd say I'm not in Kansas anymore."

He would have snorted if it wasn't so painfully obvious that he was, indeed, far from home.

"That is where you come from, 'Kansas'?" Elrond took a seat beside the bed of the young man, who, by his willingness to talk so far, had no problem answering his questions.

Harry chuckled, unable to help himself.

"No, sorry." Elrond raised a questioning brow. "It's a simple figure of speech from where I come from. A reference to an old story to say that you're far from home. I come from the city of London; it's located in the United Kingdom of Britain." A dry smile stretched across his face at the expressionless response he received, "Judging by your expression; you don't know where that is... which means I'm very far from home."

"I know of all the places on Middle-Earth, yet I have never heard of this Kingdom of yours." Certainly not something as grand as a 'United Kingdom.' It wouldn't have passed by his ears and eyes unnoticed.

"So, this planet is called Middle-Earth, huh? That's not terribly original." He leaned back against the headboard of the bed and looked out of the window. Elrond allowed him the moment of contemplation as he waited for him to speak again. "I'm in an entirely different world then. The world I come from is called 'Earth.' Or planet Earth, whichever suits you better." Harry turned back to Elrond, expecting to see understandable disbelief, or at least, some notable expression of surprise. Instead, he saw the same lack of reaction as before – except a small furrow of the man's brow. "You don't look shocked by this. Anything I should know about?"

A small sigh escaped the elf as he leaned back in his seat, "For whatever reason, there might be, my garden has seen plenty of strange things over the centuries." He sought out the emerald eyes of the young man, "You are far from the first I've seen who've come from this 'Earth' you call home. The last one who appeared in my garden lived here for the duration of his mortal life. He was a kind man."

Elrond watched the mortal's eyes widened, almost fearfully as he then swallowed dryly, "This man's name..." He let out a shuddering breath, "W-was it Sirius Black?"

Realization struck Elrond as his own eyes widened in shock, "Harry." He whispered, blinking as the mortal let out a strangled sob of confirmation... yet the man seemed to smile through it all, despite the heartbreaking realization.