Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.

a/n: in which Hermione begins to question Harry's family setting, in which Ron attempts a kidnapping of Harry, in which the overprotective godfather and ever peaceful werewolf are forced into several awkward situations.

Hunting for Marbles

By neutral

Part three – hunting for blueberry pancakes and Harry sauce

Remus could smell the blueberry pancakes sizzling from the stairwell. Inwardly smiling, he quickened his pace, already anticipating the sight that would greet him in the kitchen: Harry standing on the footstool—less than necessary now as Harry had grown while away at school—with a wooden spoon in one hand and a plate in another, the mixing bowl hovering behind him.

Remus had missed such mornings when Harry was at Hogwarts. Things were never the same with the twelve year-old gone, and with both his and Sirius' wayward habits, it was rare that the two of them sat down for breakfast together—though it should hardly be counted as breakfast at the hours they usually ate; their normal meals consisted of lunch, dinner, and midnight snacks numbers one and two. Harry's absence had set loose all of Sirius and Remus' festering bad habits.

It would be nice if the school term was the length of their vacation time and Harry could be home for nine months out of the year. Home wouldn't feel so large, so empty, so agonizingly quiet… but no, that was Sirius in his mind talking and Remus should not listen.

Remus hushed his footsteps as he neared the kitchen door, and sure enough, Harry was on his footstool beside the stove, just as Remus had predicted. The boy's expression was thoughtful as he gazed out the window, his eyes unfocused in a manner that Remus instantly recognized. Harry had sensed the two broken barriers and was trying to figure out why Moor House suddenly felt different…

Speaking of which, it was a good time to tell Harry about his two friends who had invaded them in a flying car the previous night. A flying car… Remus sighed. Gods, what kind of dangerous, stubborn, reckless friends do Harry have?

The sound of footsteps distracted him, and Remus turned to see Sirius stepping into the room, absentmindedly combing his fingers through his hair. Remus blinked. Sirius looked… well, awake. It was a shock to see Sirius out of bed at eight in the morning when he wasn't off to work at his mysterious 'job'.

Sirius caught his eye and gestured him over with a conspiring—and very frightening—grin. "Does Harry know yet?" He sounded like a parent about to dress up as Father Christmas.

"No, but he was testing the wards just now. Harry knows we were invaded sometime last night," Remus shot Sirius an uneasy glance. "You're not implying that we—"

Sirius' grin widened impossibly. "Don't tell him."

"Sirius," Remus grimaced. "Harry will be—"

"Exactly! That's the whole idea. Come on."

Remus' stomach gave a discomforting lurch as he watched Sirius practically glide the rest of the way to the kitchen. He was suddenly reminded of those adolescent days when he had been thoroughly embarrassed by his parents in front of his friends ('Oh, Remus sweetie, it's too cold. Come inside and put on this scarf,' or gods, even worse '… don't be afraid to firecall us when you have nightmares, and I packed your teddy just in case you feel lonely…' plus the rest of his mother's infamous fifteen minute lectures at the Platform 9 ¾). He had nothing but fond memories of his parents now, but when he was young and naïve and insecure, he wouldn't have minded so much if his mother had spontaneously transformed into a mushroom on the train platform. And Harry… well, the boy would never be embarrassed by his guardians. He had lived too long in seclusion to know how to act like a normal child his age, but Remus still didn't want to do anything… silly.

No finger-combing Harry's hair in front of his friends, Remus told himself firmly. No fussing, no pats on the head, no bickering with Sirius…

There was a whiff of burnt bread in the kitchen. Remus stepped inside just in time to see Harry hurriedly scrapping off the contents of a pan bottom onto a plate. Harry frowned, prodding at the lump experimentally. It deflated. With a soft sigh, Harry opened the window and tipped the plate full of something into a gardenia bush.

Sirius and Remus exchanged knowing glances.

Harry was feeding their population of chocolate frogs again, which, strangely enough, only ate sugar. Ever since Remus had set a box of them free three years ago—Sirius had placed a curse over their pantry to make its contents alive and rabid, a ploy, he claimed, to cure Remus of his chocolate addiction but Remus knew Sirius wanted to see him clawing through withdrawal, the idiot—, the animals had set up a colony in the undergrowth besides one of their streams and multiplied like rabbits. No one really felt like getting rid of them. Remus, though he never admitted aloud, was secretly amused by them, Sirius hunted them on occasion, and Harry used them as practice snitches. Besides that, the chocolate frogs were pretty much given free reign over all of Moor House grounds.

The grin on Sirius' face looked more and more difficult to contain. Striding up, he leaned over Harry's head to peer out the window.

"Feeding the frogs?" There was a smile in Sirius' voice. "You're going to give them indigestion."

Harry turned, tucking the plate behind him, and gave his godfather the most innocent expression he could muster. "It was just a pancake!"

"That was a pancake?" Sirius asked. "It looks a bit like the leg of a miniature poodle with three hamster ears—"

Remus shook his head. Sirius had the most disturbing imagination when it came to free association.

"No! Don't look!" Laughing, Harry attempted to drag his godfather away from the window and received a hair-ruffling for his efforts.

"Is that going to be our breakfast too?" Sirius mused.

"No," Harry blushed, but brightened quickly, "but you could trap those frogs. Would Moony mind chocolate for breakfast?" Standing on tiptoe, Harry peered over Sirius arm to look at Remus questioningly.

It was becoming harder to conceal his amusement at their antics.

"Yes, Moony will mind, as Moony does not want Talons to have decaying teeth like Padfoot." Remus folded his arms. "And Moony protests at the unfair treatment of Talons by Padfoot," Remus added with a wry grin, "and insists that Talons retaliate by attaching Padfoot to the ceiling."

Sirius grimaced, possibly at the thought that it wouldn't be difficult for Harry to attach anything or anyone to the ceiling. "Well, now, if there's anyone who should be permanently glued to a wall, it should be our nocturnal sugar-addict. Harry, if only you knew how many chocolate cakes Moony finished by himself during that one week when he suffered a bout of writer's block, you'd wonder how he manages to fit through the door—"

Remus glared. "Sirius, I did not—"

"And he claims to have sleepwalked!" Sirius added with a flourish, plucking the plate out of Harry's hand and marching him to the dining room. "Can you imagine?"

"I still claim that you sleepwalked," Remus deadpanned. "Fourth year, you—"

Sirius groaned. "No, that was—"

"—stole all our socks—"

"—your hex, I just know it—"

"—and walked in circles in the dormitory eating parchment."

Harry choked. "Sirius did?"

No matter how hard Remus tried, he couldn't get that grin off his face. "Yes, and we couldn't wake him up. Eventually, we had to hex him."

The godfather huffed and threw a sullen glare over his shoulder. "You had my pillow rigged with sleepwalking salve."

Remus was about to deny the accusation when something about Sirius' tone stayed him. Remus eyed his friend suspiciously. "You rigged mine, didn't you?"

Sirius sighed tragically. "Well now, that is slander. Listen to that, Harry."

Remus was about to reply with a sharp retort, until the thought of Harry's friends stayed him. No, behave! Remus mentally chided himself.

Sirius, noting his silence, grinned brightly. "Padfoot, tally one."

Remus was sorely tempted to take a swat at Sirius' head. "Don't give yourself any tallies until you cleaned out your room, you oversized infant."

The amused expression on Harry's face was eerily similar to the one Dumbledore wore whenever he watched the Marauders' antics. For a moment, Remus wondered if perhaps Harry was spending too much time with the Headmaster.

"Maybe the chocolate cakes ate each other?" Harry offered quietly.

Remus smiled. "Could be. Come, Harry, let's finish making breakfast. We need to set the table for five this morning."

"Five?" Harry blinked up at him curiously. "Do we have visitors? Is that why Moor House felt larger this morning?"

Remus was ready to cave in and explain, but Sirius shot him a somewhat muted version of his I'm-an-evil-grim-fear-me glare over Harry's head. Remus hesitated.

"Well… uhh…" Quick! A diversion! "What is that?" Remus sniffed the air and wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. "Harry, you smell like… is that blueberry pancake mix?"

"Low fat, extra buttery, twenty percent more fluffy," Harry recited.

"I thought Padfoot finished the last of that back in October."

"It was in the back of the pantry," Harry explained. "Though, it was acting really strange…"

Sirius coughed and Remus inwardly sighed. Even after three years, they never were able to completely cure the pantry of Sirius' curse.

"Well, now that all the pancakes have gone to the frogs, we shall need something else to feed the starving masses," Sirius reflected with feigned thoughtfulness. "Perhaps we need to hunt."

"For something small and easy to subdue," Remus added, easily slipping back into their casual banter.

"With fluffy hair and titanium glasses and snitches on his socks." Grinning, Sirius ruffled Harry's hair.

Harry's eyes darted between his two guardian's faces in happy horror. With a startled squeak that sounded very birdlike, Harry ducked under Sirius' arm and made a mad dash for the door. Laughing, Remus intercepted Harry, catching him by the waist and easily swinging him off his feet.

"Can't have our Harry cake running away now, not with all our stomachs still empty," Remus informed him, seating Harry neatly on the breakfast table.

"Harry cakes taste awful," Harry said fervently. "They taste like peat and duck feet and…"

Remus tickled his sides and Harry dissolved into barely suppressed mirth. Harry squirmed, trying to escape, but Remus was merciless. He tickled the boy until Harry looked ready to keel over from laughter.

Well… this certainly isn't the model of maturity, is it? Remus reflected faintly. But at the moment he didn't particularly care, because good mood was infectious and Harry was home and it was such a relief to have their small little family whole again and…

A sharp jab in the ribs from Sirius cut his musings short.

Remus stilled. Harry, slightly disoriented, nearly toppled over the edge of the table and Remus quickly caught his shoulders to support him. Glancing over his shoulder, Remus noticed Sirius waving to the direction of the door.

"Awake already?" he called.

Remus choked.

The red headed boy—Ron, was it?—was standing behind them, his two eyes in perfect circles as he stared at Remus in open-mouthed horror. Remus could feel his face heating up, which was completely wrong because he almost never blushed, but Harry's friend had just seen them in the middle of a tickle war and… gods, could anything be more awkward?

Beside him, Sirius stifled a snicker. Remus resisted the urge to glare.

"Good morning," Remus greeted with a warm smile. "Sleep well?"

Ron gulped, his hand fumbling through his robe pocket. Remus frowned. Is he reaching for his wand?

"Ron? What…?" Harry's eyes were wide in surprise as he stared at his friend.

"He dropped in at three this morning," Sirius told him, "with another… the bushy haired girl?"

"Hermione? She's here too?" A brilliant smile came over Harry's face, and he leaped off the breakfast table—both Remus and Sirius instinctively tried to catch him—and ran to his friend. "How did you come here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming? You should have written, it's—"

Harry broke off when the boy flushed an alarming shade of scarlet and marched forward in a manner that strongly reminded Remus of Sirius on a vengeful mission. He pushed Harry behind him and slowly backed towards the door, glaring daggers at Remus all along the way.

"Err… Ron?" Harry began cautiously. "What are you doing?"

"Run, Harry!" Ron hissed, and pushed Harry the rest of the distance away.

Remus blinked. The two boys vanished through the doorway. Silence reigned over the dining room.

"I think you scared him," Sirius said finally, looking aggravatingly amused, "Padfoot, tally two."

Coughing, Remus flicked the closest thing he could grab—which unfortunately was a raisin—at Sirius' head.

*

Remus' point of view is somewhat wordy, and really, not much is explained yet, just a lot of bickering and repeating of all the things Remus vowed not to do. He's somewhat background heavy and it fills up more background, though... *sigh* I hope its amusing nonetheless.

ack. It's taken weeks and weeks of procrastination, and the second part is still on its first line. All in all, I'm really sorry. So much for writing during vacation. Actually, writing is easier when there are threats of finals or midterms looming overhead. The muse is more inspired then, oddly enough.

I'm really sorry. This is only the first half of the second chapter, but the second part doesn't seem to want to come and now my muse is looking back towards Persistence of Memory. So this shall be delayed even more... plus, I missed the December deadline and promise of updating at least once every month. So now, for another really sad story / excuse of why this took a month instead of a week, and still severed in half, here comes:

Once upon a time there was a strange girl without a brain who thought she ought to attempt a story about a little boy and his strange friends and his even stranger family and while she was writing it, she ate little teddy grams and thought they looked like humans and wondered if humans ought to eat humans to decrease overpopulation when the world goes berserk one day and suddenly, cannibalism appeared in the story. That was quite unexpected, but the strange girl wrote on and suddenly the chocolate frogs went insane and the pantry became the pantry of doom that made everything insane and rabid and weird. Then her socks came alive and went dancing across the street and she nearly got ran over so she hid in the movie theater and watched Return of the King eleven times and err... other stuff happened.

Ack, ran out of steam.

there is a livejournal now, username neutrallized. It basically repeats everything that is said on ACKisms but it saves bandwith on rubie's server. I will be replying to reviews on both ACKisms and Life in a Box, though... it probably will be delayed by a day or so. Ack, sorry about that! And for the delay too...

On a side note: Happy New Year everyone!