A/N: --UPDATED-- And now we get to the Harry stuff. By the way, I am NOT making Cellie fall for James. I'm not perverted. Okay, so I do read Herm/Lupin fics, but they're always the ones where she goes back in time! Really!

*listens for acknowledgment*

*waits*

Come on, I'm serious!

Oh, jesus, not THAT pun again..

By the way, I know this is a lot to ask, but if you read the story, and know of someone who might like it, would you refer them? Thanks. ^_^

- Cellie

Note: It is advised that you read I Never Knew before trying to tackle this piece.

Disclaimer: Cellie Rivera, James Metz, and Cassie Woods(No relation to Mother's Curse) are all mine. The plot, however odd, is mine. Pasadena belongs to the state of California. California belongs to.. What does California belong to? The US? New York belongs to the US as well.. I think. The Potters, and anyone else I may mention are property to J.K Rowling, and her alone—Alright, not Sirius. Remus, then?—Shut up, Cassie.

Chapter Four
Tricks For the Undead

August 1st, 1995

Harry sighed and sat down to write another letter to his godfather. He had written at least twenty, but Sirius, for some reason or another, refused to answer. At least things were good at Number 4, Privet Drive.

The Dursleys were very quiet around Harry, and somehow Dudley had turned into the slave of the house. Harry wasn't bothered unless Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon were feeling awfully tired and even then, they only assigned Harry small jobs. Harry, assuming originally that the Dursleys were going to torture him about Fred and George Weasley's Ton-Tongue Toffee, was very happy when they did the exact opposite. Of course, the Dursleys shunned and refused to speak to Harry at any time of the day, but he really didn't mind.

The added bonus of Cedric not being an issue in the Dursley household cheered Harry greatly. At least over the summer, he didn't have to worry about Voldemort or his parents or anyone else.

Also, Hermione, thinking like a true friend, had bought him one of Flourish and Blotts Burn-When-Finished Journal of Secrets for his birthday. It was a mix of Professor Dumbledore's Pensiveve and Tom Riddle's diary, and it had helped Harry greatly in the matter of relieving unwanted memories and stress. And, there was the added bonus of each page burning itself into oblivion after Harry had finished the entry, making it impossible for anyone to read it—unless he performed the counter curse to unlock it.

Fred and George had given him the dual present of Trick Howlers, which worked like real Howlers except that you could program it to sing a number of annoying muggle songs, which Harry had gleefully tested on Dudley one day when the Dursleys were out. It had exploded, and a small hula dancer that looked like it belonged on a muggle car dashboard started belting some awful song about pop stars.

Dudley had looked like he was about to die right then and there of a heart attack, and would not eat for several days. However, Dudley being Dudley, that wasn't such a bad thing.

From Ron, a wizard camera, for which Harry sent him billions of thank you's (and the occasional picture of Dudley looking like a deranged maniac after opening that howler).

Surprisingly, Ginny sent him a birthday present as well, a small watch. Harry picked up her letter and read it once more.

Dear Harry,

Since you're always finding one way or another to crash head first into trouble, I thought you might like this. I found it in an Auror's shop down in Diagon Alley. It tells the wearer of danger, sort of like Mum's clock in the Living Room. It also tells the time, so you don't have to worry about being late to that rotten slimy git's (Don't tell Mum I said that—Better yet, don't tell Ron I said that) class.


Cheers!

Ginny

Harry put the letter down, grinning. He had liked this present incredibly, and had gotten a letter from Ron saying that when Ginny had heard that, her face went red.

I think she fancies you, Ron wrote. Harry chuckled at this, squashing a slight amount of happiness that came with that note. Harry shook his head, laughing softly.

 Professor Lupin had even sent him something—a giant box of chocolate frogs, as well as a cake. All of them had sent him cakes.

However, the present he was most looking forward to—the one from Sirius—never came. Harry hoped with all his might that Sirius hadn't been captured, but wouldn't Dumbledore or Professor Lupin tell him?

Suddenly, a small post owl not much bigger than Pig flew in. However, the bird seemed to have a bit more manners, and waited patiently for Harry to untie the parcel from his leg. Harry glanced at the address. It was from Sirius!

He quickly opened Hedwig's empty cage (She had gone out flying earlier) and let the post owl have a drink and a feed. Harry then rushed over to his desk and ripped open the package.

Inside there was a strangely shaped object that could only be a wizard's radio. There were about a hundred knobs and dials, most with silly things written above it, like Turn for a rope ladder. Must've been a band, Harry concluded.

Speakers covered the sides of it, and an antennae that looked sort of like an Ollivanders wand, waving slightly to find a channel or station. There was a note taped to the side, which Harry ripped off and eagerly began to read.

Harry,

I'm sorry I haven't been returning your letters. I sort of went out to try and get a wand for myself, and things backfired, so I ended up in an old, abandoned flat in muggle London for awhile. Now, seeing as I don't exactly have a owl, and I wasn't too keen on going back to Diagon Alley to hire myself one, it's pretty hard to send letters your way.

As to why I didn't use Hedwig—the only way I got your letters was via chimney. Having a Hippogriff around makes owls a bit skittish, Hippogriffs being meat eaters and such, so I never really got to answer.

However, I was able to get Hermione, who had come into London with her parents to see—what did she call it?—A play, I think, to purchase an owl and your present for me.

How are the Dursleys treating you? Still quiet as mice, I hope. If they aren't, I just might have to turn them into mice—joking, Harry, joking... Unless, of course, you want me to.

Hopefully I'll soon be at Remus's house in the country. When I get there, I'll send you another letter.

- Sirius

P.S - I figured you might like this, seeing as you normally have to yell over at one of us for information about the wizarding world.

Harry groaned. Sirius always had to be the person who picked in a game. At least he was all right. Harry scrapped the current letter to Sirius—he'd write him when he was safe. He chuckled a bit about the planned' attack on the Dursleys, and went to work on his Transfiguration Essay.

How would you become an Animagus? Explain in detail, 3 feet of parchment.' Oh, this is going to be fun.. Great. The one time Sirius is out of town, I need him for homework help. Just great.



When Jeremy—no, James returned to his small apartment in Pasadena after Arts High had finished its last day of schooling, the first thing he did was to drop his duffle bag on the coffee table. James then went to a small cupboard underneath the kitchen sink, where a crowbar sat, covered in cobwebs. James knelt down and brushed the cobwebs off before taking out the rusted thing.

James smiled sadly. When he had left Hogwarts with nothing but 500 galleons worth of muggle money, he used most of it to fly to New York, and managed to find a small house that hadn't been used in years, in Upstate. There James used his magic, transfiguring random things like dust bunnies into money, muggle clothes, and a degree in Physics—which, James thought, after studying it in his Muggle Studies class, reminded him most of Transfiguration.

Poor James wasn't sure what he'd do, teaching occurred to him, but there weren't any good teaching jobs for a Physicist in New York—not at the time. Suddenly, something happened to change James's outlook on things. He was sent an owl.

It was sent to a Mr. James Potter, with no address, and in Sirius's writing. Now, see, if all of the past James's owls kept on being directed to James the muggle', things would be quite complicated.

So, the next day, James Potter went to get his name changed. After that day, he was no longer James Potter, he was Jeremy Evans.

I always wanted a brother named Jeremy, He remembered Lily saying.

After that, just to make sure that no more owls reached him, he moved across the United States to California. And he buried his wand, cloak, and the few galleons he had left in their normal form under a floorboard in his new apartment. And he hadn't touched it for seventeen years.

But that was about to change. James walked over to the throw rug by the fireplace and kicked it out of the way, revealing floorboards that looked ten shades lighter than the rest of the apartment. He took the crowbar and put it next to the floorboards, and pulled. The section of floorboards popped off quite easily, revealing a small, jeweled box.

James pulled the box out of the small hole. A sudden thought occurred. What if his magic had left? After all, he hadn't touched or dabbled with magic in 17 years. He gulped, and opened it slowly, gazing at his dusty wand that lay in the rose colored satin. He touched it hesitantly, and felt a spark of light run through his nervous system.

He wrapped his fingers around the base, and picked it up. Instantly, a tremendous warmth flowed through his body, and the wand glowed, lighting up the small room. James grinned.

So much for my magic being gone. He said.


June 5th, 1995

Cassie and Remus talked—and argued—a lot over the next week. Of course, since Remus stood guard over Cass 24/7, that was explainable. At least with Remus on the other side of the fence, neither of them could tear each other's throats out over an argument.

Thankfully, Remus also managed to get Azkaban to change the silver wire to bronze, so both lycanthropes breathed silently in relief. No more close shaves with the fence.

While Cassie was stuck in the courtyard, waiting for the shipment of carving tools to arrive, they spoke about various things, ranging from their lives to their nasty experiences. However, Remus shied away from telling about his years at Hogwarts. So, of course, Cassie did everything in her power to make him spill.

You're never going to get anywhere with this, Cass. Remus stated.

Remus, have you ever known me to give up?

I've only known you for a week, Cassie, I can't really judge. Cassie rolled her eyes.

Do you avoid every topic people bring up, or is it just me? She asked.

Oh, yes, Cassie, avoiding your nosy questions is the highlight of my day. He said, sarcastically.

Hey! My questions aren't nosy! I just want to get to know you, Remus, but I can't do that if you avoid every damn thing I ask. She retorted, her voice increasing its power.

Well, Miss Woods, there are some things better left UNSAID. Remus growled back. Cassie flared up, and glared at Remus through the wire.

You, Mr. Lupin, are a stuck up friendless snob who won't even give me a single damn piece of information about your life when you've heard all of mine. It's not goddamn FAIR, Remus. She shot at him. Remus glared at him.

Don't you DARE speak of me that way. You don't know anything about my life—

Only because you haven't TOLD me! Remus J. Lupin, give me one good reason why I shouldn't call you an idiot who can't keep his friends—

Cassandra Woods, shut the hell up. You don't know how it feels to have your best friend BETRAY James and Lily, and nearly get away with their son as well! Oh, and I believe that Sirius was mighty happy when that rat tricked him and imprisoned him HERE. Remus yelled, his temper getting the better of him. Remus's eyes flashed a dangerous golden yellow. Cassie backed away, frightened and horrified.

Remus.. You.. Lily and James were your friends? The Potters? And Sirius Black? Cassie said slowly.

How would you know who they are? Remus asked, a sharp tone to his voice.

They.. I asked what Sirius did. I didn't know you were friends with him. She responded. Remus looked down at the pavement.

Remus, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. You're right, your past deserves to be kept there. She said, walking up to the bronze fence—which, thankfully, was harmless up to the six foot mark. She put her hand to the fence and smiled slightly. Suddenly, Remus looked up, and stared into her crystal blue eyes.

You didn't know. He said softly.

I had no right to ask. She replied. Remus lifted his hand and met hers on the fence.

I should have told you. He whispered. Cassie shook her head.

No worries, my friend. I understand. She said, breaking the connection with their hands as a man dressed in a long, green robe came up to Remus.

Mr. Lupin, I have a delivery for the prisoner. Cassie's eyes lit up. Remus grinned, and took the small package from the man in the green robe. He nodded his head, and left. Remus turned towards Cassie, and pressed the green button, which unrolled a window sized portion of the wire.

Your wand making materials, Cass. Remus said, smiling softly. Cassie nodded, and took the small box from the werewolf.


August 1st, 1995

James held his wand high, and looked at the odd things positioned in his room. There was a chicken who was currently clucking around, pecking the floor, and several large pink bunnies. James grinned, and changed the animals back to their former furniture state.

He had called the school earlier to request a sabbatical, which was granted, seeing as how he had never actually taken a vacation before in all the time he had taught at LACHSA. He thought about calling Miss Rivera to thank her, but decided against it. Knowing her, she'd find out soon enough.

James looked at his now packed duffle bag, and the advanced payments of rent he had left for the landlady. He was almost ready to go, but one thing still nagged in his mind. How on earth was he going to explain this? A man thought dead for 14 years suddenly appears once more, living and breathing? Would Remus even talk to him? Would Dumbledore?

Suddenly, James got an idea. He had the perfect person to test his reappearance' on. It wouldn't be efficient payback, but it would be a little.




Sirius grumbled, clutching the brown coat Hermione had bought him around his legs, which were curled into the rest of his body.

It's too cold for Summer, Buckbeak. He said, listlessly. The Hippogriff snorted in acknowledgment.

Hey, at least you have all those feathers. Sirius almost added birdbrain, but thought the better of it. While Buckbeak had gotten used to his random and insultive-yet-joking statements, he wasn't in the mood to get the evil eye—or a bite—from a cold and annoyed Hippogriff.

Suddenly, the fireplace burst into flames, clouding up the air with smoke. Sirius jumped back, surprised, and went into a fit of coughing.

Who... Who's there? He asked, reaching for a muggle knife—something he had found discarded underneath a kitchen counter in the flat.

I would have thought you'd recognize me, Sirius, you bastard. Sirius knew that voice. Knew it better than he knew his own.




A/N: Anyone who guesses what LACHSA stands for gets a big bag of chocolate frogs.

Tarawen: Well, as I think I pointed out to someone in I Never Knew (it might have been you, not sure), while I'm not crazy about writing AU fics, I don't want everything to be magically well' again. :p

W,W, and J: Sorry, I got tired of typing out yer screen name. :p I know that focusing in on one single person for the whole chapter is fun as well, but unfortunately for me, since I've booted my three page chapters to six page ones (two thousand words per chapter.. oy! x_x), it takes awhile to think up relatively good dialogue. I'm glad you like it either way, though. ^_^

ra-chan: Oh, believe you me, the fast updating service will change, I'm not usually this quick in emitting chapters—I've just got way too much time on my hands (kudos and a galleon to anyone who can name the song I just quoted and its singer(s).). :p I'm glad you like Cellie, and she reminds me of my friend Ren. Odd, seeing as she's supposed to be my character. :p Any bets on how long I can keep updating my chapters once a day? *grin*

thistlemeg: No, Remus had grabbed onto the silver fence, which gave him little spike thingies (think like those awful prickly things you get stuck in your socks after a day of hiking) stuck in his poor hands. No chains for the werewolf, thanks!

Heh, interesting yet probably boring short story: the whole reason I started out with I Never Knew is because I was drawing a picture for my Romeo and Juliet class, which ended up looking more like Lily, so I drew James next to her, and it just so happened that he was gripping her wand hand. So, I ended up making up a dialogue in my head (What d'you expect? I am an actress) to go along with the picture, which consisted of James coming into the future and finding that Lily was engaged.. and the rest of the story sort of evolved from there.

Likewise, the same thing happened, giving me an idea for this sequel, when I went to go visit Ren down in LA and met her Acting/Improv teacher, who happened to be the same age as the Marauder group (assuming Harry was born in 1980). I joked with some of her friends that her teacher could very well be James Potter in disguise (Their professor had been kicked out of school, I think on the day before graduation, and while he was incredibly funny and had amazing stories about the pranks he pulled on his teachers, he would shy away from any mention of his kicking out experience), and I explained how it could have happened (inadvertently using some of my theories that went with I Never Knew). By the end of the day, we were all looking for some way to prove that their teacher was actually James. Hence, I created Jeremy. And, no, the teacher I based this on has no similarity to name or profession—if their professor taught Physics, the building would probably explode. :

Jelli Bean: I know it's confusing at first, but you honestly can't tell me that books are supposed to make sense from page one—I know HP still astounds and confuses me at times. :p