Author's Note: (sigh) I reeeally should work on the ones I've already got posted instead of working on new ones. Once again, random floaty thoughts. Dunno what all will be in this, though as usual there's gonna be language and violence. Not sure about other stuff just yet. Oh, and this is AU.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JKRowlings…Duh.

I hope you like it, and if you don't it's not my problem, so don't bother flaming me. I'll just use flames to make toast…or…something…moo

Writing like this is Harry's thoughts and/or stuff he is reading.

JK never said the names of James parents that I can recall, but the few times I've found them on here, they were referred to as Henry and Alanna, so those are the names I will be using.

I recently read through the first couple chapters in this story to get over my writer's block so I could finish up chapter four, and I almost cried when I saw how many mistakes and hard-to-understand parts there were. So I went back and edited, tweaking a few sections to make it flow better and make more sense.

The Gathering

Ch 1) The Last of My Kind

Harry was not having the best birthday. He had been woken by his aunt screeching at him to get breakfast started through the door. He'd had a stiff neck from falling asleep at his desk waiting for midnight, as was his custom the eve before his birthday every year. He was also a little confused that the usual pack of owls wasn't there yet. Generally Hedwig and several other owls arrived promptly at midnight with all his birthday greetings from his friends. He'd come to love and look forward to the one time during the holidays when he actually felt at home. Locked into his room at midnight with only a pack of owls and a stack of letters from his friends as company, but home nonetheless.

After breakfast was over, his uncle announced that they, the Dursleys, that is, were all going out for the day – Yes! – and gave Harry a long list of difficult chores to do before they returned – Dammit! – and if he didn't complete them, he would, to quote Uncle Vernon, "be in some really deep shit."

He had finished the chores, but was still putting away the cleaning supplies when the Dursleys pulled up in the driveway past ten at night, so he was told to go to his room without dinner and if he came out before the next morning he'd, once again, "be in some really deep shit." They didn't even allow him to take a shower to rinse off the sweat and grime.

Harry shut his bedroom door, his stomach growling, and flopped down on his bed without looking up. His head was killing him, and he was hoping to fall asleep and ease the pain somewhat.

Hedwig gave a loud hoot, and Harry groaned and covered his head with his pillow. "Quiet, girl, my head hurts and you're not helping."

Another hoot. "Stop it!"

Hoot hoot.

Harry jerked his head out from under the pillow and glared at his owl. "WOULD YOU SHUT – oh." Two other owls besides Hedwig were sitting on his desk as well as several letters and packages. One of the owls he recognized as Errol, the Weasley's owl, and the other was Ron's midget-owl, Pig.

"Sorry for yelling." Harry said sheepishly. Hedwig blinked her amber eyes at him and turned her head away, apparently amused by Harry's antics. Errol just looked at him blearily and hopped over to Hedwig's cage for a drink of water, while Pig started flying madly in circles over Harry's head, twittering crazily.

Harry got up from his bed and dragged himself to his desk, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. He opened the first letter and started reading, snatching Pig out of midair without even looking up from the letter. It was from Ron.

Hiya Harry!

Happy Birthday! I really hope the Muggles are treating you alright. Do you want me to hex them for you if they aren't? Mum and Dad also wanted me to ask if you can spend the rest of the summer holiday at Grimmauld Place with us. Send Pig back with your answer as soon as you can, alright?

-Ron

Harry put the letter down. He didn't really want to go back to Grimmauld Place. Too many memories of Sirius. He just wasn't ready to face it yet.

Sighing, he turned to the package. Opening it he found a sturdy leather belt with slots to hold vials of potions and a holster for a wand, and a few built in pouches for money and other small nessecities. In effect, it was the wizarding equivalent of a utility belt.

Grinning now, Harry set aside the belt and reached for the next package, this from Hagrid. He opened it to find a scrawled birthday greeting and a box of some of Hagrid's homemade sweets. He decided to wait till later to try and see which were edible and which were not.

The next package was from Hermione. It contained an extremely long letter and a present. The present was, predictably, a book. To be specific, it was a book called Advanced Defense Methods Against Advanced Dark Wizards and Creatures. Cool. He thought, smiling down at the book, now if only my head would stop hurting…

Errol had brought him a birthday cake and a gift of homemade chocolate chip cookies from Ron's mum and the other Weasleys, and a package of goods from the twins' joke shop.

While he was opening his gifts, his headache was getting steadily worse. Setting aside the box from Fred and George very carefully (he didn't want to set anything off by accidentally dropping it) he sighed heavily and leaned his head down on the desk, closing his eyes for a few minutes. He idly wondered how late it was now, and propped his head up on his hand and glanced at his clock. It was getting close to midnight, only twenty minutes or so.

Harry looked balefully out his window, letting his head rest on his arms. Why couldn't he have a simply nice birthday with no chores or drama for once?

Hary was so absorbed in his musings that it took him a moment to realize there was a large black shape flying in his direction. Harry watched it carefully for a second before recognizing it as an owl, and stepped back from the window to allow it passage into his room. The iron-grey owl was enormous; it could barely fit through the window. Too big to sit on the desk, it landed on Harry's bed and, after stretching it's wings once, folded them up and sat stock-still without moving. Except for it's orange eyes, which stared at Harry unblinking, it could've been a statue.

Harry stared first at the massive owl, then at the package and large envelope it had brought him. Hesitantly, he reached out and picked up the letter. It was thick and heavy. He didn't recognize the handwriting the address was written in. He turned it over and opened it pulling out a letter and another, smaller envelope. He looked at the second envelope in confusion before turning to the letter.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday. I realize you are probably a little confused as to why I would be writing to you. It's because I have something of great importance to tell you before midnight on your birthday. You'd better read this before then.

Harry glanced at the clock. Lucky the letter wasn't too long. He went back to reading.

The second envelope I have enclosed with this letter was given to me by James and Lily to give to you on your sixteenth birthday should anything happen to them. Be sure you read that letter before midnight as well. They explain everything in there, including why it is I who was entrusted with that letter, and not Remus, or Sirius, or the Headmaster. No, I did not read the letter. Lily told me when she gave it to me what was in it.

I also would like to apologize for the way I have treated you over the past five years. I did not mean to hurt you. I cannot explain all this very well in a letter, so we will discuss this face to face soon enough. All I can tell you at this time is that I am sorry.

I have also included along with these letters some things that I believe you should have. Read the letter from your mother before opening your present. Consider them my birthday present of the last fifteen years to you. Their value covers about that much, and then some; they're pretty much priceless. Do try not to lose or break them.

Sincerely,

Harry stared at the name on the letter. Snape? His least favorite teacher, the greasy git, the bitter old potions master who had hated Harry for five years because of who his parents were, sent him a civil, even pleasant, letter, called he, his parents, and his godfather, all by their first names, delivered a letter from his parents that they had entrusted him with, and gave him a birthday present? An apparently extremely valuable present? Who was this person and what had they done with Snape? This had to be some sort of trick, perhaps come up with by Voldemort?

Merlin, he wished his head would stop hurting.

He glanced at the clock and saw he had about fifteen minutes to midnight. He might as well get started on the letter that was supposedly from his parents. He picked up the envelope and could already feel how old the parchment was. It was yellowed with age, and the blue ink the address was written in was faded.

To my darling son Harry, on his 16th birthday, wherever that may find him.

A flicker of doubt made him pause. What if it wasn't a trick? He wished he could use his wand to examine the letters for any curses or other spells. That would be a hint as to their true nature. Should he wait, maybe, until someone had a chance to check it over for him? But, then, if this was for real, then he needed to read it now, before it was too late. He decided to just read the letter, and then try to decide whether this was a hoax or not.

As he went to open it, it occurred to him that if this was for real, he would be reading something that his parents had written. His fingers trembling slightly, Harry turned the envelope over and carefully opened it. The letter inside was on as old of paper as the envelope was. Harry opened the folded piece of parchment, revealing more of the same firm, flowing script as on the address.

My dearest Harry,

Hello, my son, and Happy 16th Birthday. If you are reading this letter, then that means that something has happened to James and me, and we are no longer with you. I just hope that your godfather Sirius is there to take care of you.

We are leaving this letter in the care of a certain Severus Snape. I am not sure if you know him very well, as I am not there to be sure that you two meet, but I can assure you that he is a good man, and if you ever need help with anything, you can trust him. It is part of his duty.

I have something of great importance to tell you, love. Something that concerns your heritage, which should come into play tonight at midnight. Please do not be too upset with me for this. Harry, I am not human.

The letter dropped from his hands. Harry sat unmoving in shock, blinking down at the paper at his feet. His mother wasn't human? He was certain now that this had to be a joke.

He reached down to the floor and picked up the letter, moving to throw it into the trash can next to his desk, but stopped. His mother…even if he doubted the letter's integrity, if there was the slightest chance that this was really from his mother, he owed it to here to at least finish reading it.

Slowly, he turned his eyes back down to the text, finding the spot where he had left off and continuing to read.

I know it's probably a bit of a shock, and I beg of you, please hear me out. I am not human. Neither is your father. We are Elves. Not house-elf type elves, but real Elves. We are human-like in appearance, but not completely. Elves appear totally human until they turn sixteen. As today is your sixteenth birthday, your Elven blood will make itself known at midnight, and you will change. Not too much, but you will be noticably not human. You will be faster, stronger, and have more stamina then you did before. Your eyesight will be equivalent to that of an eagle, and you will be able to hear as good as a wolf can. Your ears will be pointed, and the irises of your eyes will have a slight glow to them when you experience a powerful emotion, such as when you are angry. You can move in complete silence if you want to, which makes it very easy to avoid people if you don't want them to notice you. Stealth can be very handy at times.

Another thing you should take into consideration is your Elven classification. I am a Wood Elf, while James is a High Elf, though really the only difference between the different classifications is our magical abilities. I, as a Wood Elf, can speak with trees and nonmagical creatures. James is a High Elf, so he has fairly decent divination skills. You, Harry, are a Night Elf. As such, you are gifted with the ability to turn invisible and incorporeal at will. That is to say, you can make it so that your body can pass through solid objects, much like a ghost. You can also turn other objects near you incorporeal. The closer you are to the object, the easier it will be. Normally our abilities do not reveal themselves until we come of age at sixteen, which is also when our other Elvish characteristics come into play as well. After your body transforms, it may take some time before you can completely control your abilities, so be careful you don't accidentally turn yourself incorporeal without realizing it.

Another thing, wizards, as you know, are very long-lived. Their life-span is roughly three times as long as a Muggle's is. While Elves, contrary to popular belief, are not immortal, we are much longer lived than wizards. Enough that, to a wizard, we seem immortal. We can be killed by injuries or illnesses. We are, however, granted with eternal youth. Long life can be a blessing or a curse, depending on how you look at it. Look well, my son.

Now that you know what is going to happen to you physically, I guess I should explain myself. As I said before, your father and I are Elves. The last Elves, to be exact. I was adopted when I was an infant by my human family. You know them as the Evans family. When they adopted me, they were given a letter from my biological parents to give to me on my sixteenth birthday, much as I am doing for you. Remember, Elven children look human until they turn sixteen, so I never knew I was an Elf until my sixteenth birthday either. The letter explained who I was and about my heritage. Our heritage. The story is much the same for your father, though he was adopted by a wizarding family, the Potters.

When James and I were born, the Elves, our people, were at war with an Elf by the name of Donovan. He was completely insane, thinking that his people were evil and the earth would be better of to be rid of us. He was on the rampage, killing the Elves where he found them, man, woman and child.

When my parents had me, they were frightened for my safety. They put me into a muggle orphanage for my protection, with only a letter to tell me of my heritage. When Mum and Dad (my adoptive parents, not my biological ones) gave me the letter, they said they had promised to make sure I got it. I managed to contact someone at the orphanage I was adopted from, and they told me what they had on record about my biological parents. Their names were Amalthea and Tobias Rush. All they wanted was that I be adopted and be given a new name. They wanted me to be totally anonymous. The only person allowed to be told my true name was to be myself, should I want to find out. Not even my adoptive parents were to know my true name. I wasn't to be told of my adoption until age sixteen. Whoever adopted me was required to tell me on my sixteenth birthday and give me the letter. My true name is Andreanna Rush.

James was left in a wizarding orphanage with no name or letter or any form of identification at all. He was adopted by the Potters, who gave him his name. The only thing the people from the orphanage knew about him was that the people who left him there were Elves, claimed not to be his parents, and asked that he be placed in a caring home where he would be safe. To this day, we have no knowledge of who his biological parents were.

With our being totally anonymous, I surmise that my parents and James' caretakers were hopeful that would be enough to protect us from Donovan. It was. He died several years later fighting against the last known Elf, Willis, the prince of our people. Unfortunately, Willis died of his wounds sustained in the fight shortly afterwards. Donovan had succeeded in his mission, eradicating the world of the Elvish people. The Elves have not been seen or heard from since. The wizards have assumed that the Elves are extinct. From what I know, except for James, you, and me, they are. We are the very last of our kind. Donovan was worse than Voldemort, and that is saying something. Unless there were others like us, hidden in the Muggle world, away from magic, it is likely that we are the last true Elves.

Harry, if you are reading this letter, than James and I are gone. And if we are gone, then that means that you are the last Elf. You are all that is left of our great people. I am sorry that I was not there for you.

I said earlier in this letter that it was Severus' duty to help you if you need it. I am about to explain why. Severus is not a human either. He is a Tourniquet. Your Tourniquet. The Tourniquets are a race of beings whose purpose is to teach and protect the Elves. A sort of fairy godparent, if you will. They are required to protect, teach, and comfort you when you need it. Each Tourniquet is assigned the protection of one Elf child. Severus was assigned to you. Severus will help you learn to use your powers as an Elf, and teach you more about your heritage. Tourniquet's spell casting abilties are somewhat limited; they do much better with potions and other such things that do not require wands to do. Severus always specialized in potions in particular. He will protect you, even if it means his own life will be forfeit. My own Tourniquet died defending me from Voldemort a few monthes before you were born. James' Tourniquet fell defending us not two weeks ago. He was a good man, and as loyal a friend as I have ever known. I can only hope that you and Severus will be as good of friends as I was with Trista, my Tourniquet. She was my best friend, like a sister to me.

The morning after your transformation, you should receive a letter from the Tourniquet Council with a portkey attached. It will bring you to the Tourniquets' stronghold, where your Tourniquet, Severus, will be waiting to join you. You can trust the Council. They may even know if there are others of our kind left.

Hopefully Severus will have made sure that this letter gets to you before midnight on your sixteenth birthday. Trust him, and have faith, my son. I pray that you will do well in life and be happy, even if I am no longer here to see it. I love you, Harry.

My love forever,

Mum

P.S. James just told me that if I don't tell you he said hi and that he loves you dearly, he's going to put Wartcap powder in my underwear drawer. Again. Good luck, love.

Harry sat stiffly on the bed after he finished reading the letter. The large iron-grey owl blinked at him and hooted softly. Harry looked up at it. "This is a joke, right? Please tell me it's a joke."

The owl just hooted softly again, and looked pointedly at the large box wrapped in black wrapping paper. Harry sighed and untied the package from the owls foot. The owl blinked at Harry, stretched its wings, and flew off into the night while Harry slowly and quietly took the wrapping paper off the present. It was a large wooden box, obviously charmed to keep it from being so heavy, or the owl wouldn't have been able to lift it. He took the lid off the box and gasped at what he found.

Inside were two beautiful daggers, their hilts encrusted with jewels, the blades sheathed inside matching, intricately designed, leather scabbards. He lifted one of the daggers out of the box and pulled the scabbard off, revealing the shining silver blade. The blade of the dagger was roughly a foot and a half long, curved slightly and engraved with a light pattern of twining vines and leaves. He couldn't tell what kind of metal the blade was, but some of the gemstones in the hilt he recognized as emeralds and sapphires. The hilt fit his hand perfectly. The blade was the most spectacular weapon Harry had ever seen, including the sword of Godric Gryffindor that he had used to slay the basilisk in his second year.

Harry glanced back down at the box and noticed something sparkling underneath the matching knife. He sheathed the first dagger and took out the second one and laid them of to the side on the bed. He reached back into the box, pulling out a heavy pendant, a large ruby encircled with wrought gold and silver on a long silver chain. Attached to it was a note.

It read:

Harry,

I realize this must be quite a shock for you, and I know if I were you, I'd probably be wondering who had come up with such an elaborate prank. If you wish to be assured of this being true, push down on the bottom of this box towards the back to open a secret compartment. I've charmed it so it only will open for you. Inside will be a penseive with some memories that should prove this to you. Some are my own, others are copies of James' and Lily's that they gave to me with the letter.

The daggers are of elven craftsmenship. There is no finer weaponry in the world than that made by elves, and not much is left of the elven craftsmens' work.

The pendant belonged to your mother's Tourniquet, Trista. I want you to have it.

Once again, Happy Birthday.

-Severus

For a moment Harry wondered why Snape would have something belonging to his mother's Tourniquet in his possestion. Shaking off the thought, he reached into the box and pulled out the thin cushion on the bottom, then went to check for the secret compartment. Before he could even touch the box though, he felt a spasm jerk through his whole body.

Startled, his eyes darted over at the clock. It was midnight. Was the letter for real, then? Could this be the beginning of the changes? He bit his lip as he felt another spasm seize hold of his muscles. Harry collapsed onto the floor and lay writhing as the spasms came again and again. Merlin, the pain! He could feel his body changing, and it hurt, dammit! He couldn't do anything to stop or even dull the pain. He could taste blood in his mouth from where he was biting his lip to keep from screaming.

After what seemed like hours, there was one last spasm, worse than all the others, and Harry couldn't stop the pained gasp that slipped from his mouth. He lay gasping on the floor, waiting for the next spasm. It didn't come. He looked up and glanced at the clock. 12:01. It had only been a minute!

He lay there for several moments, just taking in long, deep breathes while he tried to recover from the ordeal. Finally, he slowly and painfully sat up, scooting over until his back rested against the bed. He refused to look in a mirror and see if he looked any different until he had seen proof that it wasn't a prank of some sort.

He didn't even notice that the old pair of Dudley's jeans he was wearing were now, rather than being too long as they had been when he put them on, about three inches too short.

He did, however, notice that his glasses just made his vision blurry now. His fingers shaking, he took them off and the world came back into focus. Harry wondered idly if when the prank was over he could find a spell to fix his eyesight for real.

He pushed down on the bottom of the box near the back, and, just like the note had said, it flipped up to reveal a secret compartment, in which was a smaller version of the pensieve he had seen in Dumbledore's office in his fourth year and in Snape's office in his fifth. He stared at it for a moment before lifting it out and setting it carefully on the desk next to his birthday presents.

He sat down at his desk, staring at the pensieve for several long moments, running over everything he had read in the past half hour in his mind, trying to make some sense of it. What should he do now? Making up his mind, he took a deep breath and leaned his head forward, and his face touched the contents.

He felt himself being pitched forward and landed standing upright next to someone. A girl his age with long red hair. She was sitting cross-legged on a bed in a bedroom, reading a faded letter written on yellowing parchment. There was a trunk at the end of the bed, and there were a few moving photos framed up on the wall. Some random Christmas decorations were scattered across the room, and it was snowing on the other side of the window, lit by the streetlamps outside. Harry slowly walked around the bed so he could see the girl's face. She was beautiful, her green eyes bright as she read her letter.

Mum…

She glanced over at a clock on the wall. Harry followed her gaze to the clock, which read 11:59 PM. As he watched, the glowing letters changed to read 12:00 AM, and the teenaged version of his mother gasped aloud. Harry looked on in horror as Lily started spasming just the way he had not ten minutes before.

"Mum!" he cried and jumped forward, cursing as he remembered he was incorporeal here, and therefore unable to help her. He realized this had to be his mother's sixteenth birthday. He stared helplessly down at her as she jerked involuntarily on the bed.

Finally, after the one minute was up, she stopped and lay there, breathing heavily. With a soft cry she jumped to her feet and went to stand in front of the full-length mirror she had on one wall.

Harry went to stand next to her, looking into the mirror at his mother's reflection as well. He shivered slightly; there was no reflection of him in the mirror.

Lily gaped at her reflection and pushed her hair back to touch her newly pointed ears. "It's real…" she whispered faintly. Harry felt everything swirl around him as the memory shifted.

Once the new memory came into focus, Harry found himself sitting in the sitting room of what was clearly a Pureblood home. Sitting on the couch were a middle-aged witch and wizard. They were watching a teenaged boy – who Harry suddenly recognized as James Potter – pacing restlessly around the room. James looked nervous and almost frightened. He stopped pacing and turned to face the two adults.

"Mum…Dad…" So these were Harry's grandparents? He remembered Sirius mentioning that their names were Henry and Alanna, but that was all he knew of them. He surveyed the two of them sitting on the sofa as the watched their son anxiously. "You are absolutely sure? No mistake?"

Henry Potter shook his head. "No, James. No mistakes, no games. Your biological parents were Elves. Making you an Elf as well."

"How can you be sure? Did you meet them?"

"No, sweetie," said his mother. "We never saw them. But the couple who dropped you off at the orphanage were Elves. They said they weren't your parents, but that they knew your parents. They told the staff that your real parents were Elves."

"No! They weren't my real parents! My parents wouldn't just dump me at some orphanage! You two are my parents!"

"Jamie, sweetie, of course we're your parents! Nothing will change that!" Alanna said, distressed.

"Nothing will change that?" he said incredulously, "I just found out I'm not even human! And in about five minutes, I won't even look human!"

James collapsed onto the sofa in between his mother and father. "I don't want to be an Elf. I just want to be an ordinary Wizard."

They put their arms around him as he started to cry softly. "Oh, Jamie, I'm so sorry," his father said. "I know you didn't ask for this, but there's nothing we can do about it. You'll just have to adjust and hope for the best. And Sirius and Remus and Peter will be there for you when you return to school. Maybe we can look up some kind of glamour charm – Jamie? You alright, son?"

James had stiffened suddenly. "James? JAMES!" his father yelled and his mother let out a small scream as James suddenly jerked off the couch and started spasming on the floor. His transformation was starting.

Henry and Alanna threw themselves down next to their son, holding his arms and legs down, preventing him from hurting himself as his body underwent the change from human to Elf.

When he finally stopped spasming, James gingerly pulled himself into a sitting position with the help of his parents. Henry lifted James up onto the couch and he leaned back with a groan. He just sat there for a moment, staring at his lap.

"How bad do I look?" he said after a moment, sounding defeated. Henry and Alanna glanced at eachother worriedly over his head. "You don't look bad at all sweetie," Alanna said. "You look fine."

"Do you want to see?" Henry asked softly. James hesitated, then nodded. He stood then, and followed his parents over to the large mirror positioned above the piano. He stepped in front of it and stared at his reflection, moving his head to the side so he could see his ear better. It was pointed. He turned back around to look at his parents. His eyes were glowing, and shown with tears. "Mum? Dad?" he whispered before collapsing. Henry caught him before he hit the floor and carried him over to the couch. As James passed out, the memory ended and the colors shifted around Harry once more.

When it finished shifting Harry found himself standing of to the side of a group of people in a large chamber. Frowning, he stared around the room. Where were they? Hogwarts? It was similar to the castle, but not quite the same.

Harry turned his attention to the group of people standing nearby and was startled to see his mother standing there, with two people, who Harry recognized from the photos his aunt had shown to his cousin as her parents, standing behind her. They were standing in front of a small group of people.

Standing right in front of Lily was a tall lady with black hair and eyes, wearing midnight blue robes. Next to her was an old man with long tangled grey hair dressed in emerald green. On his other side stood another, younger man with blue-black hair and peircing eyes. Standing next to the young man was a scowling sixteen year old…Snape?

It was him! Snape, in all his sneering, greasy-haired glory, was standing next to the tall young woman, listening as she spoke to Lily.

"I am Trista, your Tourniquet, dear. When you were discovered, I was chosen to guide you once you came of age and your Elven blood revealed itself. I am here to teach you, help you, protect you from harm, and just look after you in general."

"Okay," Lily said, "So who are they?" she nodded towards the old man and the younger one beside him. "And why is Snape here?"

"Oh, I apologize, Andreanna. This is Romney," she gestured to the old man. He bowed, kissing Lily's hand. "My name isn't Andreanna, it's Lily," she mumbled, blushing slightly.

"Romney is the head of the Tourniquet council. He oversees all appointments of Tourniquets to Elves."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Lily said, blushing even more.

"No, the pleasure is mine, Miss Andreanna." His voice was deep and clear. "You are one of the first Elves we have been able to find for some years now. We were beginning to fear the last of you had all died. I'm so glad that we were mistaken on that point. I just pray you are not the only ones left."

"Er, right," she said uncomfortably, taken aback by his odd method of greeting.

"And I suppose you already know Severus?" Trista said, gesturing to the grumpy boy behind her.

"We've met," he said dryly.

"He is a Tourniquet as well," Trista continued, ignoring the way the teenage Snape was frowning grumpily at Lily. Harry's mother just glared right back at him.

"And this is Vaughn, another Tourniquet."

He nodded his aknowlegement but said nothing. Lily nodded back, and then asked, "Just how many of you are there?"

Trista smiled sadly as Romney answered her. "There aren't many of us left, though a good deal more than the remaining Elves, I'm afraid."

"So, did you have any questions as of yet, Andreanna?"

"Just one. You said I am one of the last Elves you've managed to find. There are others like me?" She asked, looking at Romney.

He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the doors opening with a bang, permitting three new people came in. The one in front stopped short when he saw the Evans family standing there.

"Lily?"

"James! What are you doing here?"

He shook his head and walked over to her, his parents following. "I honestly have no idea. I just got this letter with a portkey attached. No doubt it has something to do with my Elvish heritage," He added dryly.

Lily looked shocked. "You…wait, you're an Elf too?"

He looked at her then, noticing for the first time her Elvish features. "You mean I'm not the only one? Well, that was certainly unexpected. I found out over the summer. What about you?"

"Just last night. It was my birthday. I got a letter this morning with a portkey saying that they had discovered my heritage and were required to supply me with a mentor."

"I got that same letter this morning too." James said. "Why didn't I get mine when I first found out I was an elf?" He directed this last comment at the Tourniquets standing before him.

"Because, Master James," Romney started, "We hadn't found you yet. We discovered you about three weeks ago. We decided it might be best to assign both of your Tourniquets at the same time. So, we sent your letter a little late so that you two would be able to meet. Apparently you two know one another already?"

"Yes," said Lily, while James nodded in agreement.

Just then James noticed Snape skulking behind the Tourniquets. "What's Snivellus doing here?" he sneered.

"James!" his mother said warningly, and he hung his head. "Sorry, Mum."

Lily just rolled her eyes and turned back to the Tourniquets. James eyed Snape warily. "So why exactly am I here?" he asked Romney, as he appeared to be the leader.

"To meet your Tourniquet. A Tourniquet is a protector and mentor. Trista here is Andreanna's. And I think you'll do well with Vaughn," the old Tourniquet said, gesturing over to the other male Tourniquet at his side.

James and Vaughn sized each other up before greeting one other, warmly on Vaughn's part, warily on James'. "If you ever have any questions, James, just ask me, and I will answer as best as I can," Vaughn said, and James smiled. Then his brow furrowed and he glanced back at Romney. "Who's Andreanna?" he asked.

"He means me," Lily said dryly. "Apparently it's my Elvish name."

"Do I have an Elvish name?" James asked.

"Not that we know of, but if we ever find it out, I will let you know," Vaughn supplied. James nodded to show his understanding.

"Now, I am sure you are both wondering why Severus is here as well?" Trista asked the two Elves, "I told Lily, this before you came, James, but Severus is a Tourniquet as well. As Vaughn and I cannot attend Hogwarts to be with you during school, he will be our means of contact. You can send letters through him, and he can answer your questions just as well as we can. He will be a sort of surrogate Tourniquet for both of you while you are at school."

James looked at him disdainfully, and Snape returned the dirty look with one of his own. "Peachy," James said tiredly.

The image swirled around Harry again as a new memory came up.

This time Harry found himself in what he knew to be a Hogwarts common room, but not any common room that he recognized. It looked like a blend between the Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms; green curtains and carpets and couches, dark red walls and cushions, and gold and silver trimmings on almost everything in the room. Harry idly thought that the fact that the whole color scheme really just reminded him strongly of Christmas.

His eyes were drawn to the five teens grouped together on the couches and easy chairs that were situated around the fireplace. There sat his dad, and Sirius and Remus next to each other on the couch, Wormtail sitting on the floor leaning against it. Seated in a large cushy chair close to the fire was Snape.

Judging from the shiny Head Boy badge pinned to James' robes, the five boys were in their seventh year here. They were in good spirits; James, Peter, and Sirius were clutching mugs of butterbeer, and all five teens were laughing.

"Did you see their faces?" Sirius gasped. "I can't believe they actually bought it!"

"Seriously!" James said, wiping tears from his eyes, "You'd think after a year they'd have figured it out by now!"

"Well, we only called a truce at the end of last term," Snape said with a raised eyebrow.

"So?" James snorted. "We never fight anymore, we bloody smiled at one another in the hall the other day, and then today, Sirius and I defended you! In public! By now, the entirety of Hogwarts is either officially stupid, secretly thinks we've all gone mad, or suspect Sev and me of being secret lovers."

The others all groaned and started laughing again.

"Well, at least they don't know about the whole Elf, Tourniquet thing," Sirius said, gesturing wildly with his hands.

Snape smirked at him. "Wow, mutt, that was really eloquent," he said sarcastically.

"Oh, shut up, you." Sirius said, chucking a Chocolate Frog at his head.

"We can be glad they don't know," James said. "Who knows what kind of crap they could come up with with that bit of information."

"They probably would have rumors of James and Severus being together," Remus said smirking.

"And of Severus and Lily being together," added Peter.

"And of course, James, Severus, and Lily being together!" Sirius said grinning wickedly.

James and Snape both turned slightly green at this, but soon they started laughing with everyone else. When they finally caught their breath, James turned to Snape and said, "Sev, you know I love you like a brother, but know that if you touch Lily, you will find your head stuffed down the nearest toilet. Even think about touching me, and I will feed you to the acromantulas and other nasties in the forest."

Snape just flashed the Head Boy his trademark smirk. "Merlin, James you must really think highly of yourself, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to throw poor, unsuspecting Slytherins to the wild beasts."

James grinned at him triumphantly. "Damn skippy!" The others just laughed.

They seem so happy together…Harry thought as he watched his father, godfather, and their friends as they joked and prattled and argued together. They never acted like rivals or enemies at all; the closest they came was Snape calling the others 'idiot Gryffindors' and they in turn calling him a 'slimy Slytherin.'

"Hey Sev? What do the other Tourniquets do?" James asked suddenly. Snape sat up and looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean, James?"

"I mean, you're here learning magic, and Vaughn is my Tourniquet, and Trista is Lily's, but what do all the rest do? If Lily and I are the last Elves, and we have our Tourniquets, what do all the other Tourniquets do? Do they just sit there twiddling their thumbs?"

"Well, as you know, Vaughn and Trista are waiting for you and Lily to graduate and then they'll join you and look after you. The Council rules the rest of us. Some of the other Tourniquets are searching for other Elves that may have been hidden away. Some are searching orphanages all over the world. Others are living lives as normal 'Wizards'. I believe some of us have even started offering their services to other magical beings in need of guidance. A select few are waiting for, in the event that we find another Elf, the chance to become a Chosen Tourniquet."

"What about you, Severus?" Remus asked. "What are you going to do after graduation? You won't have to play babysitter for James and Lily anymore, since they will be free to be with their true Tourniquets. What does the Council want you to do?"

"I know they plan on giving me some extra training so that I can qualify for a potential Chosen Tourniquet. They also want me to get a Mastery and take up a position here at Hogwarts so I can look after any Elf-children that happen to show up here until they get their official Tourniquet."

"So you might get to be a Chosen Tourniquet? Wicked." Remus said grinning.

Sirius laughed then. "Maybe you'll get to be Tourniquet for one of James and Lily's kids!"

They all laughed too then, and the memory with Snivellus and the Marauders laughing together blended into a new one.

Harry found himself standing once again in the large room where Lily's and James' Tourniquets were assigned to them. Lily was there again, holding a tiny baby wrapped in a blue blanket. Next to her stood James, looking extremely nervous. Standing just behind James was his Tourniquet, Vaughn.

"Stop fidgeting, James. You don't have to be so nervous," Lily snapped.

"I'm fine, Lily," he said, sounding anything but.

"Really," Lily said disbelievingly.

A door on the left wall of the chamber opened and the old Tourniquet, Romney came through, followed by Severus Snape. Romney walked straight over to Lily.

"Is this him?" Romney asked, eyeing the infant in Lily's arms.

"Yes," she said proudly, "This is Harry."

"May I?" He asked, gesturing to the baby version of Harry.

Lily said nothing, but gently settled her infant son in the old Tourniquet's arms. Romney smiled at Baby Harry, bouncing him gently. "He's beautiful," the Tourniquet murmured, looking up. "Are you ready to hear who we have chosen as his Tourniquet, Miss Andreanna, Master James?"

James nodded while Lily murmured yes. Romney smiled then, and gently placed the infant in the arms of the young Potions Master at his side. "Harry," the old man murmured to the baby, "This is your Tourniquet, Severus. He will take good care of you, child."

Lily beamed while James could only blink in astonishment. Suddenly he laughed aloud. Lily punched him lightly on the shoulder, demanding to know what was so funny. Her husband was laughing so hard, he couldn't answer.

Harry stepped away from his parents, closer to where Snape stood holding his infant self. The two were watching each other spellbound. Baby Harry reached up with one tiny hand and touched Snape's cheek, eyes round with innocent curiosity.

Baby Harry couldn't have been more than a week old. It is said that babies can't smile when they're that young. But after a moment, as Baby Harry stared at his Tourniquet, he smiled.

Huzzah. New story. w00t. Please review and tell me what you think!