Author's Note: Violence. Language. AU after Order of the Phoenix.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine.

Italicized writing is people thinking, memories, passages from books, etc.

I've made you wait long enough already, so here. The author's note at the end is very important, so PLEASE make sure to read it.

Ch 5) Keane

They remained at the Tourniquet Manor for a week, allowing them both time to recover from the severe drain on their magic, while Severus made the travel arrangements. On the very last day of August, the pair were heading to America via a flight across the Atlantic.

Severus was planning for entirely Muggle transportation, using pseudonyms and forged paperwork, so as to avoid leaving a trail in the Wizarding World. He knew that Dumbledore would begin frantically searching for Harry as soon as he got word that the Boy-Who-Lived wasn't on the train, and Voldemort's own search would come soon after, so he didn't want to leave any trace of their route behind.

Severus was getting ready to buy the plane tickets by phone order, but he first needed to check with Harry where exactly they were going. Since he hadn't joined in the ritual until after the first few Gathered were selected, he was unsure of their first destination, beyond the fact that it would be in America.

And so he found himself heading downstairs to Harry's room on the fourth floor. He had sent the young Elf there immediately after lunch to start packing for the trip. However, the pair of them had also had yet another argument over lunch, and Severus was unsure as to whether Harry would follow his instructions or not. Harry had wanted to write his friends and let them know that he was alright, and tell them not to worry when he didn't show up for Hogwarts. Severus had denied the request, fearing the Headmaster would try to use the letter to track them down.

"Then why can't I just send it to one of their homes? It doesn't have to go to Hogwarts to reach them; I just want to let them know I'm okay," Harry had asked, obviously annoyed at the Tourniquet's flat out denial.

"No, Harry. It's too risky. What if the letter was intercepted?"

"I have faith in Hedwig," Harry said stubbornly, "She'll make it all right."

"Harry, I gave my answer and I'm not going to change my mind. End of discussion," Severus replied icily.

"But–"

"Drop it." Severus tone had been frigid, closing off any more ideas of arguing. Harry had sat back in his chair, staring at his soup as if it had killed his best friend and refusing to say a word to Severus for the rest of the meal.

The Tourniquet arrived at Harry's rooms and pulled himself out of his musings, knocking on the door. A muffled thud and curse on the other side of the door let him know that his charge was indeed inside. A moment later the door was yanked open and Harry was glaring out at him. "What?" he demanded tersely.

Severus merely raised an eyebrow. "I just came to inquire as to where exactly we are supposed to be going."

Harry lips drew back in a snarl, but his reply was cut off as the Tourniquet continued. "I'm buying the plane tickets on pre-order, so I need to know where we're headed. I also wanted to know if you are packing like I asked you."

Harry scowled, but nodded stiffly. "I've just about finished packing. And to answer your question, I'm not certain yet. I will inform you when I've found that out." He moved to shut the door, but found it blocked by Severus' foot. Rather than re-opening the door to glare, as the Tourniquet expected, Harry began to push harder, nudging Severus' boot with his own bare toes. "Move your foot," Harry said grumpily.

Severus just crossed his arms. "What's the magic word?"

Harry's response was to phase his arm through the door, turn his hand solid, and shove Severus, hard. Caught off guard, the Tourniquet lost his balance and stumbled back, giving Harry the opportunity to shut the door again. "Move your bloody foot!" Harry snarled through the wood. Severus cursed when he heard the lock click and banged his fist on the door. "Harry! Open the door! Right now!"

"Go away!" came the muffled angry reply.

Severus snarled and banged on the door again. "Harry, come on! This is ridiculous! Open the door and let's talk like civilized beings."

Harry turned intangible and leaned forward through the door so he could glare at the Tourniquet. "Maybe I want to be left alone right now!" without waiting for a response, he pulled back inside the doorway.

Severus slammed his hand up against the door again. "HARRY! You are acting like a spoiled three-year-old!" the Tourniquet growled, his annoyance growing and beginning to become obvious.

"You know what – forget it!" came Harry's muffled voice through the door. "You want to find out where the bloody hell we're going, come back later. I'm too PISSED OFF to think right now. And I will do NOTHING as long as you are yelling at me and ordering me around!"

Severus took a step back from the door, breathing heavily and trying to rein in his temper. With a snarl, he turned and stared pacing back and forth in the hallway, until, after a few minutes, an irritated Harry stuck his head through the door again.

"And you might as well go pout somewhere else. Your pacing is driving me up the wall." With an annoyed sneer, Harry pulled his incorporeal head back into his room.

Severus huffed angrily and left up the stairs.

A little over an hour later, Harry was playing with Cullen on the floor in his suite. He had been going round and round in circles in his head since his last encounter with his Tourniquet, and was still frustrated with Severus. Though the flare of defiance had died down, it was only by a very small amount.

The heart of the matter was, Harry missed his friends. He missed them more than he had during any of the summers spent with the Dursley's in the years before. Throughout his life in the magical world, and throughout all of his magical adventures, he had always had one or the other, or, if he was lucky, both Ron and Hermione at his side. And now, when he had spent a month using his magic in a totally new way, learning more about magic and how it worked than he had in all the five years he had spent at Hogwarts, they weren't there. He wasn't able to share this adventure with Ron and Hermione. The only ones here were Snape and the other Tourniquets, all of whom were strangers. Out of all of them, Severus alone spent time with Harry regularly.

Even after a month of living in close quarters and trying to learn to work together, the pair could not set aside their previous animosity so easily. At least, Harry couldn't. After five years of seeing Severus Snape only as the cold Potions professor, it was difficult to let go of that image. At times, that cruel, impatient bastard showed through again, and Harry would immediately go on his guard. He never let himself forget that grudging Professor Snape was never far under the calm surface of Severus the Tourniquet, and he could never tell, which one was the real person? Was Severus a mask, a way to gain his trust, or was Professor Snape the façade, hiding the true, calmer and gentler soul from Voldemort, Dumbledore, and others who would seek to manipulate other people to suit their purpose? Who exactly was his mentor, and what was the truth of their relationship?

If Ron and Hermione were here, they both would have had their own theories. Ron, ever the passionately suspicious one, would be all out against the Slytherin. He would rant for the longest time about how untrustworthy that bastard was before deflating and suggesting a game of chess or a one-on-one game of Quidditch. And as for Hermione, she, always the optimist, would list all the reasons why the professor would be on their side, then diplomatically figure out some reasons why they should be careful about how they proceeded, before finally suggesting they go look at the Tourniquet's library and see what exactly Snape's 'service' to him entailed.

Harry found himself smiling a little bitterly at the thought, wringing Cullen's rope toy between his hands. God, but he missed them. And now, he was about to leave for Merlin knew how long, and he might not even make it to Hogwarts this year. He didn't know when he'd next be able to see his best friends, and Severus wouldn't even let him send a letter so they wouldn't worry!

With a heavy sigh, he half-heartedly tossed the toy across the room, and watched dispassionately as the wolf cub enthusiastically chased after it, pouncing on it and tearing into it with his teeth. He hated this isolation from his closest friends.

A soft knock came at the door, startling him out of his thoughts, and the young Elf stared at the door for a moment until he heard Severus calling his name in a soft voice.

"Harry? May I come in?"

The teen stared for another moment, holding his breath, before closing his eyes and letting out another sigh and climbing to his feet. He padded barefoot over to the door and opened it slightly, peeking out at the Tourniquet standing in the shadowy hallway outside. "Is it alright if we talk?" Severus asked, face carefully blank. Harry studied him for a moment before nodding and moving aside, pushing the door open more to allow the Tourniquet access. Wordlessly, Severus came in, his bearing as regal and uptight as always. Like he had a broomstick shoved up his arse, Harry mused distastefully.

Severus stopped and turned on his heel, crossing his arms and watching the young Elf closely. Harry, uncomfortable under the scrutiny, turned away and shut the door. Before he could turn back around, however, the Tourniquet chose to break the tense silence.

"I wish to apologize for earlier, Harry. I should not have yelled at you," the young Elf turned around and opened his mouth to speak, but Severus held up a hand to halt Harry's response. "But I still feel I must stand by my earlier decision."

Harry's expression hardened and he stepped closer to the Tourniquet. "I'm not going to get to see them for months, possibly longer! I don't want them to worry about me. If it was one of them, I'd want to know why they didn't show up at school."

"Harry," Severus started to say, clasping his charge's hand and leading him over to the couch a few feet away. Harry sat on the edge of the sofa, and Severus kneeled before him so they were at eye level, not letting go of Harry's hand. "I know that you miss your friends." The Elf looked down at their clasped hands in his lap, contemplating pulling away. "But the risks at the moment are too great. If we are found by the Dark Lord, we will be brought before him and/or killed. If Dumbledore catches up to us, he will do everything in his power to make you into his pawn again. We need allies; we must find the rest of the Gathered before we can hope to come out of hiding. Unfortunately, the Tourniquets alone are not strong enough to fully protect you from the manipulations of the Wizarding World; there are just too few of us left to have much of influence on them. Until we have more support, we must not be found. And every means of communication the Wizarding World has a way of tracking it back to the sender."

Harry bit his lip, refusing to meet the Tourniquet's eyes, and nodded. Severus eyed him carefully, concern showing on his face. He looked away from his charge, thinking over an idea that had come to him earlier. Finally, he came to a decision, and sighed, sitting down on the sofa next to Harry before speaking.

"I'll tell you what Harry. Once we have been traveling for a while, you may send some letters in the Muggle way to Granger's family. Ask them to forward the letters on to Hogwarts. But –" he said, watching as an incredulous but hopeful expression spread over Harry's face, "you must say nothing of importance in the letters; you absolutely CANNOT say anything about where we have been, are at the moment, or will be in the future, and you must say nothing of the other members of the Gathered. Understood? We cannot let them track us down."

Harry nodded earnestly. "Yes, si – Severus. I understand completely. And thanks!"

A small smile graced the Tourniquet's face. "You're welcome, Harry. But remember, you cannot write them until we have already begun traveling. And be sure that the packaging leaves no clue to our location either."

Harry nodded again. "I know, Severus."

"Good." The Tourniquet paused for a moment, then continued. "And now, Harry, I really need to know where it is we are heading, so I can purchase our plane tickets."

Harry snorted and grinned, getting to his feet and walking over to the backpack that was sitting on the low table before the sofa. He was using the pack (charmed to have extra room and be feather-light, of course) to house his belongings as they traveled. Severus eyed it, wondering if Harry had ever completed packing, and asking his charge that very question.

"Yes, I'm ready to go, Severus," Harry said, feeling around inside the pack and finally pulling out a smaller leather sack. He then turned the new bag over, dumping the contents out on the floor. Severus watched as several candles of various colors came tumbling out, a silver one rolling over to rest at Severus' feet. Cullen crept over and sniffed at it, then sneezed.

While Harry separated a brown candle from the rest and began putting the others back in the bag, Severus leaned over and picked up the silver one, examining it. It had been burned before, and he could feel it humming with magic in his hand. He looked up at Harry. "These are the candles you used for the ritual, aren't they?"

Harry nodded as he took the silver candle from Severus' hand and put it back into the bag with the others. "Yeah. I can use the candles to help locate the other members if I need to. Each candle is attuned to one Gathered. This one – " he held up the brown one, "represents Keane, the first one summoned."

He set it down on the floor and concentrated, magically lighting the wick with a small flame. Severus nodded in approval. "You're getting better," he said.

Harry flashed a quick grin at him before putting out a hand next to the flame, leaning forward and blowing gently on it so that the flame flickered and suddenly flared. A soft brown glow appeared above the flame, much like it had during the ritual. A face appeared in the light; Keane.

Cullen whimpered softly, and Severus frowned and cast a glance down at the wolf cub. He knew why the pup was upset, because he also felt the magic causing it.

Severus could feel the Gathered bond between him and Harry and Keane thrumming, and he felt rather than heard Harry ask where Keane would be found. A slight pulse of magic made Severus' eyes flutter closed while both he and Harry, as both were summoners of the Gathering, received the information.

Keane lived in Colorado, a medium-sized Midwest state in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. There was a large concentration of magic there that drew magical creatures of all kinds. The entire area was simply called Magic Country by the inhabitants, since it housed several of the Great Races aware of their magic, unlike the Muggles that seemed to make up much of the population of the world. The Wizards had a rather large all-magic city of their own not far from the Werewolf town in which Keane and his parents lived.

The magic faded away again when Harry blew out the candle, the glow and image of Keane disappearing instantly. "Right, then. Onwards to Colorado."

In the late afternoon hours of the last day of August, Harry and Severus had just finished their flight to the nearest airport to Magic Country. From there they rented a car to drive to the Werewolf-run town of Zaneta, Colorado. For some odd reason, Harry found the idea of Severus driving a Muggle car hysterically funny, and kept having to hide his laughter with coughing the whole ride there to avoid Severus' Death Glare.

It wasn't a particularly fun drive for Harry's poor familiar though. Cullen did not like cars apparently, and spent the entire trip sitting on Harry's lap in the front passenger seat whimpering and sticking his head out the window. Hedwig spent the entire trip in her cage, asleep with her head under her wing.

When they reached the land owned by the magical community, they stopped at the Government station on the border to see if they could find any more direct clues as to where to find Keane, and to find more information about the Werewolf-run area.

A sort of unspoken agreement seemed to have passed between the Wizards and the Werewolves of that region. Each of the two races had their own private comfort zone, but visitation and travel were still welcomed by both parties. With the Werewolves in their own town miles away, the Wizard slept easier on nights of the full moon. And since the Wizards had their own city, Constantine, the Werewolves didn't have to fear daily persecution from the more prejudiced and paranoid Wizards. The two cities shared a friendly disposition towards each other, but the relationship also held a healthy amount of respect.

The Werewolf city, Zaneta, was small, having a population of about 2,000 people. Compared to most US cities, this was fairly tiny, but considering nearly all the inhabitants were Werewolves…

"How do they stay safe during the full moon with so many of them running around?" Harry asked Severus as they walked back to the car.

The Tourniquet eyed his protégé critically. "How much do you know about Werewolves, Harry?"

Harry blinked and shrugged. "Not much. Only what you taught us in third year."

Severus snorted as he unlocked the car and got into the driver's side. "You didn't do any research on them at all? Even though you knew you'd be interacting with one directly?"

Harry got into the front passenger seat and shut the door. Cullen, who'd been lying curled up on the back seat, immediately hopped up front onto Harry's lap. "I already know a werewolf. Or did you forget about Professor Lupin? And we did do a unit on them in class that year."

"Yes, well, that book Lupin had you using is not very informative about Werewolves. There is a lot more to them than meets the eye. And just because you know one Werewolf, doesn't mean you know everything about Werewolves."

Harry sheepishly nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. So you want to tell me about them, then?"

Severus gave him a look. "Did you really think I'd let you walk into this with no clue of what you are dealing with? It might take us a while to track down Keane anyways. Alright, Werewolves." He thought for a moment as he pulled out of the parking lot entrance to the highway. "Let's see…let's start with your friend Lupin as an example."

Harry frowned. "What about Remus?"

"Remus Lupin is not a true Werewolf."

Harry frowned. "What are you talking about? You and I both saw him transform that night in my third year!"

Severus' lip curled at the reminder. "Let me finish Harry," he chided, "Lupin is not a full-blooded Werewolf because he was bitten."

The Elf looked confused. "I'm not following."

Severus launched into his explanation, simultaneously scanning the road ahead for anything amiss. "There are two different kinds of Werewolf. A full-blooded Werewolf is one born as one. This happens when two Werewolves, it doesn't matter whether they are full or half-blood themselves, mate and have children. The offspring are born as full Werewolves.

"Full-blooded Werewolves can control the transformations more, and are capable of shifting forms at will. Their Wolf form is almost identical to a normal wolf, but with small subtle differences. Though they can transform even when there is no full moon, the lunar cycle does affect their transformations. The fuller the moon, the harder it is to control the more animalistic instincts, such as hunting for food. Usually when it's the full moon, most of them remain in Wolf form to prevent themselves from going insane from the urges. However, they do keep their minds when in Wolf form, rather like the way the half-bloods do with the Wolfsbane potion. But accidents do happen, causing the creation of the second kind of Werewolf.

"Werewolves' fangs are poisonous. They carry a venom called Lycan, which basically infects their prey with Werewolf DNA. It's uncertain what the purpose of this was. Some say it was a way for the Werewolves to keep themselves from dying out. Other, less accepting people say that Werewolves are not a Race, but that Lycanthropy is a contagious disease. Those that are bitten and infected become what is called a Lycanthrope, or a half-Werewolf. Any one of the Great Races can be infected and become a Lycanthrope."

Severus paused a moment and glanced over at his charge. "Are you following all of this, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

Severus gave a brief nod and continued his lecture. "Now, Lycanthropes have heightened senses in their natural form, and while they cannot control the transformations at will, on the full moon they are forced to shift. Their wolf form is generally less wolf-like, more physically similar to their original form. For instance, a Wizard Lycanthrope, like Lupin, will appear more humanoid. A Veela Lycanthrope would have Veela like characteristics, and so on and so forth. However, no matter how different they appear, they are no less dangerous than a true Werewolf, and they, too, carry Lycan venom.

"Now, what Wolfsbane does is suppresses certain animal instincts. Because bitten Werewolves only transform because of the Lycan venom flowing through their veins, the instincts are foreign and basically unnatural, so Wolfsbane is rather like a medicine, simply helping to ease and control the condition. But for true Werewolves, Wolfsbane is poisonous, because their transformations are innate and natural."

Severus finished his lecture and glanced over at his charge. Harry was thinking over what he had been told, a hand covering his mouth and his eyes glazed slightly as he nodded slowly.

"I see," he said distantly, "So a lot of the Werewolves here must be full-blood. Since the majority of the families here are Werewolves, I'd assume most all the younger generations would be pure Werewolf."

"Yes," Severus agreed, "And since any of the Great Races can be bitten and turned, expect to see more than just Wizards or Muggles here. We could find anything, even some that are Full-Werewolf but with other Races blended in. You see, because you only need one generation of Werewolves behind you to make a true Werewolf, a lot of "Pure-blooded Werewolves" really have many species in their genetic makeup."

Harry grinned. "That's pretty wicked. I wonder what Keane is?" The idea that the Werewolf Gathered might have some of the powers of many different Races was an intriguing one.

"Well, I assume we'll find out fairly soon." Severus said neutrally, falling silent and turning his attention to the road as they started down a gravel roadway winding through the Rocky Mountains off the main highway.

Harry watched out the window as they drove through the forest-covered mountains, leaning his seat back slightly. He'd never traveled with the Dursley's on vacation. The most traveling he'd done was the trips to and from Kings Cross in London, and the trip through the countryside on the Hogwarts Express. He felt slightly wistful; he doubted there would be much time for exploring or sightseeing with Gathered members to find.

Perhaps someday, when the war was finished, when he was older and had nothing tying him down, he could just travel the world. To not worry about anything, to just get in a car and just drive, and see everything; the cities, the mountains and forests, the people and cultures, the oceans, the deserts, the tundra, the ruins of older civilizations long gone…to just have a taste of everything, to know the truth of the world he lived in…that would truly be amazing. A slight smile crossed Harry's face, and he looked out at the sky, not noticing the sidelong glance Severus cast in his direction.

After an hour of driving down the winding gravel road, they finally arrived at the small town. It really was a small community, one of those back road villages that seemed more than anything to be integrated into the surrounding wilderness rather than pushing the forest back. Most of the homes were surrounded by trees and forest and had no fences, and they were spread far apart compared to the English suburbs Harry had lived in most of his life. Tourniquet Manor was surrounded by foggy moors, but he really hadn't explored the grounds as much as he could have.

After much driving around town, turning around and going back the way they came, cursing as they realized they were lost again, Harry talking Severus into finally asking for directions, more cursing, and more getting lost, the pair finally managed to find the high school, where they could track down the teen Werewolf. It was built like a Muggle facility and held classes in not only magic, but also some Muggle courses that Hogwarts didn't offer, like art, foreign languages, drama, even cooking. Harry was impressed by the wide variety in courses offered.

"Why don't they offer classes like these at Hogwarts?" Harry asked Severus as he looked over Keane's class schedule. They had had to steal it from the secretary in the office after she refused to just give it to them, explaining that only family members could see Keane's private file. Harry had turned himself invisible and snuck past her to the computer, located the file and printed out Keane's address and class schedule while Severus provided a distraction.

"Some of the more Muggle ones, like the computer courses, wouldn't work because the magical aura around Hogwarts is too strong and disrupts electrical items. Others that are considered too Muggle were not approved by the school board, which just so happens to be made up of almost entirely purebloods. The curriculum at Hogwarts is mostly designed by and for wizard-raised children. I think it could do with a little reconstruction, myself."

Harry nodded in agreement. "A lot of the stuff taught at Hogwarts is really kind of ridiculous anyways. I mean, come on, my Charms OWL was making a pineapple tap-dance." He made a face. "What the hell kind of use is that going to be in the real world? And don't even get me started on divination."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know. I'm glad I never bothered with that class. Also, many of the things on this school's curriculum are not on Hogwarts' simply because most pureblood children have private tutors to teach them such subjects at an early age, before they begin Hogwarts. More advanced studies are done during the summer holidays at home with a tutor. It's quite a shame actually. Even wizard-raised students are for the most part not from wealthy families; they can't afford private tutors for such things, so parents have to teach their children themselves. Since the number of purebloods has dwindled over the years, hopefully people will start to see sense about this sort of thing. But we're getting off topic. What class is he in right now?"

Harry glanced at a clock on the wall of one of the buildings, then scanned down the paper. "Let's see, it's 'sixth period' right now, so…he is currently in American Literature, room 307." They started walking over to a large building labeled 300 in large letters. While they walked, Harry frowned down at the schedule in his hands before looking up at Severus in confusion. "Their schedule is all weird. They have the same classes almost everyday, and there's so many each day! How do they keep up?"

"It's the American schedule. They have shorter consecutive class periods, the same order everyday."

"Yeah, but why?"

"Because Americans are strange like that. Supposedly the students remember the material better if they go over it every day than if they have each class only a few times a week for longer time periods. Does it really matter Harry?"

"No, I suppose not. We're here." Quietly Harry moved to look into the classroom through the window on the door when Severus pulled him back.

"Harry, hold on a moment. If you just stick your head in the door or start peeking through the window, either the students or the teacher are sure to notice. We aren't even supposed to be on campus without a guest pass. If we were to get caught, we could get arrested for this."

"So what do you intend to do, Severus? We can't leave without him with us."

"Look, Harry, all we need to do is make sure we've found him. We can see about talking to him after school lets out for the day. Class ends in about fifteen minutes, and this is the last class of the day, so all we have to do is make certain this is the right classroom, wait for school to end, and catch up to him before he heads home."

"Okay…" Harry said slowly, not following what Severus was trying to tell him.

"Use your gift," the Tourniquet said simply.

"Oh!" Harry smacked himself in the forehead with a hand, "Of course!"

He stopped talking and took hold of Severus' hand, concentrating hard before making both of them disappear.

Severus raised an invisible eyebrow. "Impressive. You're getting better."

"Thanks," came Harry's somewhat strained voice from somewhere to Severus' right, "But I don't know how much longer I can hold it, so let's hurry up."

Harry quickly stepped forward straight through the door to the classroom and turned them solid once more, though they remained invisible.

Clutching Severus' hand tightly to keep from losing him (as well as to help keep Severus invisible as well as himself) Harry walked further into the classroom, stepping in between the large tables situated around the room, groups of four to five students seated at each one. Severus hadn't been lying when he told Harry that the werewolf town had was rather diverse. There was a multitude of ethnicities and cultures, and many of the students were noticeably not human.

One such person was a tiny boy with wheat-gold hair tied back in a braid whose skin looked almost sparkly, with transparent, iridescent fairy-like wings coming out from the middle of his back. The girl next to him could have been mistaken for full human were it not for the fact that her hair and skin had a decidedly greenish tint to them; a sure mark of nymph blood. The teacher, a plump short woman with curling brown hair, paced around the room, the wolf in her noticeable agitated as her characteristic golden eyes darted here and there in the classroom. Harry eyed her nervously as her eyes suddenly seemed to fix on him. He knew she couldn't see him, but he was certain she sensed their presence in her classroom.

He looked around for a bit, wanting to find their quarry so they could leave already. The teacher's glowing eyes were making him nervous. He felt Severus nudge him gently and turned to face the Tourniquet. Since Harry himself was the one making them invisible, he could still see the other fine, save for a vague, bluish transparency about his mentor's slender body. The Elf followed the hand tugging him over to a table across the room, where three girls and one boy were sitting, taking turns reading out of their books.

The boy's back was turned, so they couldn't see his face, but Harry could immediately feel the same pull that Severus had when he set eyes on him. He knew immediately; this was Keane.

They moved around to the side of the table so they were facing the Werewolf teen. He was quite human compared to some of his classmates, seeming to be of a vague Hispanic parentage. A dark green t-shirt stretched across his lithe build under a black unzipped hoodie, and his black jeans were held up by a silver-studded belt. His short hair was spiked up with the tips colored crimson, whether naturally or by artificial means, Harry was unsure. Intelligent amber eyes were staring in boredom at a strip of paper he was busy folding into a sort of accordion shape, ignoring the obviously part-Veela girl next to him as she read aloud from the book. Keane paused a moment, a flicker of confusion passing through his eyes, and he looked up and glanced around the table.

Severus started slightly, causing his protégé to glance up at him. The Tourniquet gave him a sideways glance, then looked back at the young Werewolf who was sniffing the air around him curiously, a frown creasing his brow. Abruptly Severus turned, pulling Harry away from the table and back towards the hall. The Elf turned them incorporeal once again so they could pass through the wall.

As soon as they were back in the hallway and certain that the coast was clear, he let both the intangibility and the invisibility collapse, feeling his body follow shortly. Harry's limbs trembled from the relief as he drew his legs up and huddled against the wall. It had been difficult to maintain invisibility for both him and his Tourniquet for so long. Severus didn't let go of Harry's hand, but pulled him back up to his feet despite the Elf's groan and led him down the corridor, turning the corner before stopping and letting Harry lean against the wall. He put a hand on his charge's shoulder. "That was very good, Harry, you held it for several minutes, not to mention for both of us simultaneously. Are you alright?"

Harry nodded, breathing heavily as he sank to the floor again. "He could feel us nearby, did you notice?"

"Yes," Severus confirmed, looking back down the hall towards Keane's classroom. "I did notice. Harry, we'll have to be very careful how we go about this."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, bemused. Severus turned back around to face his charge, a serious expression on his face.

"Keane – he has a curious aura about him. I've never seen it's like before. I'm almost certain he is a full Werewolf, but even true Werewolves have other species blended into their genetic make-up. I can't seem to place what other Races' blood he has in him."

"So we'll need to be careful then," Harry said thoughtfully, "We don't know what sort of abilities he may have, or what his nature will be." He paced back and forth for a moment while he thought this over before stopping to look up at his Tourniquet. "Do you think he might be part-Elven?" Harry asked, his expression blank.

Severus shrugged. "It's possible, though I don't detect any of the Elven magical signature in his aura. If he is, it's probably extremely diluted blood, not enough to retain much of the magical or physical properties."

Harry nodded and looked up sharply when the bell rang for school to let out. He was barely able to magic his tail invisible and intangible in time, because almost immediately the hallway was swarming with students making a beeline for the exit. Severus and Harry pushed their way through the crowd back around the corner, just in time to watch Keane exit the classroom and head down the hall in the opposite direction, a dark blue backpack slung over his shoulders.

Hurriedly, they pushed their way along the sea of students, many of them eying the Elf and Tourniquet in bemusement as they sniffed the air. The Werewolf youths could tell that the two were neither Human nor Werewolf, nor any of the other Races they were used to seeing around the reserve, but they didn't recognize the scent.

With the students traffic jamming in the corridors, Harry and Severus quickly lost sight of their quarry, and probably would have lost each other were it not for the link between their minds and the vice like grip Harry had on Severus' hand. The dark-haired Elf simply ignored any odd looks directed at them because of this, while Severus just Death-glared. One such glance and immediately the students found something else to look at.

Finally the tidal wave of Werewolven teens pushed out of the doorways and dispersed into the open air. Harry let go of Severus' hand when they were no longer in any danger of losing one another, and the two stood still a moment, scanning the students spreading out across the campus for Keane.

After a moment, Harry tugged on Severus' sleeve to get the Tourniquets attention, pointing at a spiky-haired individual far off to their left. "There he is!" he said, and took off after the Werewolf, Severus following at a more sedate pace.

They followed Keane halfway across the campus, towards the schools mini-theater where the drama classes were held. He stopped by a row of lockers on the outside wall of the theater, crouching down and spinning the dial on the lock.

Harry made as though to approach him, but halted at the hand on his shoulder, glancing back at his mentor.

"Wait, Harry," he said softly, "Wait until he's left the school. It will be easier to catch him alone that way."

Harry gave a brief nod and looked back at the young Werewolf, who was rummaging around in his pack as he exchanged some of the items in the locker for the ones in the bag.

Keane frowned as he gathered together the items he would need for his homework that weekend.

Something had been bothering him for the past week and a half. He didn't know what it was, it was just this nagging feeling, like he was forgetting something, or was supposed to be somewhere, but he couldn't figure out where. He had felt like this all week, but then just today it had gradually gotten stronger and stronger before coming to a climax in his last class.

Keane wasn't stupid. He could tell that this – pulling sensation – was some sort of magic or enchantment. But he couldn't figure out what. It didn't feel malicious, but it still disturbed him. It was one of those strange, familiar-but-completely-foreign things. His brain hurt just thinking about it.

The Werewolf teen shut his locker, spinning the dial on the lock to reset it. Standing up, he stretched his legs up onto tip-toes to ease the cramps that were setting in from sitting in class so long before kneeling on the hard concrete to reach his locker on the bottom row. Keane zipped up his backpack and slung it back over his shoulder as he headed for the gates, the strange pulling sensation following him the whole way.

Just as he had gotten outside the school and was started down the street on his way home, he heard a voice calling after him. He stopped short and swayed on the spot. The voice was unfamiliar to him, but the pulling swelled suddenly, and he knew immediately he would have to find the owner of this voice.

He turned around to see two people approaching him. The first was a teenage boy with black hair that just brushed his shoulders. The other, standing a few feet behind the teen, was a tall hook-nosed man with equally dark hair swept back into a ponytail.

The Werewolf almost let his mouth drop open in shock. As soon as he laid eyes on them, he could tell that the Pull had been emanating from them. Why else would it have suddenly roared to life before quieting, becoming a soothing hum in the back of Keane's consciousness? The magic was no longer tugging at him, but instead wrapping him up in its warm embrace. It came from both of the two strangers, but especially from the youth with the glowing green eyes, who appeared to be only a few years older than him.

"Keane? Keane McCormick?" the black-haired teen said. He had a British accent, Keane noted vaguely as he felt the magic between them stir.

Keane swallowed, and suddenly everything went blank again. The magic seemed to just disappear, and everything seemed normal again. But the Werewolf knew it was still there, lying just below the surface.

"Yeah," he said calmly, "That's me."

End Chapter 5

OH DEAR GODDESS THIS IS SUCH CRAP. But I really needed to tell you guys what my deal is and I didn't want to disappoint you (?) with a lack of actual story. So you get half of the shitty ass chapter I've been sitting on mostly done for the past two and a half years along with the explanation I owe you guys.

There are a multitude of reasons why I rarely update, so I'll just outline the major ones here, and if you want a full explanation as well as my full plan to get back on track, check out my profile for more details.

To start with, Harry Potter is by far no longer my favorite fandom anymore. I still enjoy it, but the rabid-fangirl passion has settled down, and my main focus both as a fan and as a writer has turned elsewhere.

Secondly, on top of college and all the lovely stress that brings, I also have a job. Possibly a second job coming up as well. This limits my free time by a considerable amount, and takes up a lot of energy.

And here is the biggest reason: one day, whilst trying to find some inspiration so I could finish the other half of this chapter,I went back and reread the first four chapters of The Gathering. Oh. My. GOD. What the HELL do you guys see in that shit? It makes me want to vomit from it's awfulness. It's so full of crappy clichés, out of characterness, and stupid and illogical character behaviors. I started this story when I was a 15-yr-old Harry Potter weeaboo, and it really shows. Yet of all my stories, this is the one that is the most popular. While I thank you for the support, I SERIOUSLY DON'T DESERVE IT, because, DAMN. No offense, but if you actually enjoyed this story, you either have a very strong stomach, or really horrible taste. Since it's my story, I can talk about it like that. XD

Later parts of the story and the fact that it has such a following are still nagging at my conscience and muse, so I won't abandon it. But the first two chapers at least need to die. Really badly. Also, I think I just bit off far more than I could chew with those super-long feature length chapters, which is why Gathering and some of the other stories fizzled out and died. I would end up getting stuck/bored/distracted by other stuff.

So here is the plan, my lovelies. I am going to rewrite chapters 1 and 2 (and probably edit the other chapters to fit) of The Gathering. I have a new story plan for the beginning that is more logical and in character; the new ones will also be markedly shorter and probably more frequent, and there will probably be more chapters. ON THAT NOTE! If anyone has any suggestions, requests, or ideas for how to fix The Gathering, I would be overjoyed to hear from you. For one thing, input and feedback from the readers feeds the muse and quite often triggers more writing on my part!

Again, my sincerest apologies for leaving you all hanging like this, and for any irritation I have caused you. I hope to hear back from you guys soon, and even more so I hope to see you again in the renewed chapters when they start coming along!

~Happycabbage