A/N: --UPDATED-- A chapter in which stuff happens. And they get out of Metz's house. Finally.

- 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. The Potters, and anyone else I may mention are property to J.K Rowling, and her alone—Remus is mine, really—Shut up, Cassie. Oh, and one other, very sad thing. I can't really take credit for calling Harry Pronglet. That all goes to, uhm.. someone I'm not really sure of. All I know is that I read it in their story, and decided it was a great name for baby Harry. It's not mine, so don't sue me if it's yours!


Chapter Eight
The Marauders


The Present: August 2nd, 1995

When George was returned to his fireplace, he had the unfortunate luck to be greeted with his mother's face—which, under the circumstances, made George wish very much that he had stayed at Metz's.

George Christopher Weasley! Where on Earth have you been? His mother questioned, impending fury appearing very visibly on her face.

Er, hi, mum— She narrowed her eyes.

Don't you Hi, mum' me! I come upstairs with those strange muggle pancakes you both love so much on a tray—for you to eat in BED—just because we decided to hold your birthdays today since you have them at Hogwarts normally—and I find Fred looking very confused and you GONE? George Weasley, you have got some serious explaining to do. He smiled sheepishly, while trying to think of an excuse. Surely there was some mistake. The family celebration couldn't have been today—but then again, Fred and George had spent quite a bit of the summer locked up in their rooms that both were not sure what day it was.

He faltered, running a hand through his trademark Weasley hair, the red now a sooty auburn from the fireplace.

Uhm.. April Fools? His mother rolled her eyes.

George, just because we're celebrating your birthdays doesn't mean that the day it's originally on takes effect. But, thankfully, she didn't look as upset, and the fire was beginning to disappear from her eyes.

George groaned inwardly. There was always a but. You don't get your pancakes. I daresay your brother has eaten your share as payback for leaving him out of your adventure. George grinned ever so slightly, while feigning a pout.

No fair.. He whined. Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes and helped him up off the ground.

Now, shoo! And I don't want to see you or Fred down here until dinner! She called, as George went rushing up the stairs, a smirk on his face. There would be plenty to fill Fred in on that would last them both until dinner.




At Number Four, Privet Drive, the Dursleys' Sunday morning was rather unusual. A rather noisy racket was going on, quite unlike the orderly Dursleys. Harry awoke to the banging of frying pans, and several large shouts. He shot up and grabbed his wand from under the bed, his first thought being that there were Death Eaters in the house. However, this idea flew out Harry's brain as he noticed that Aunt Petunia's shouts—he assumed it was Aunt Petunia, for neither Dudley or Uncle Vernon could hit those squeals (he hoped)—were far from terrified—they were more annoyed.

Harry shoved his wand back under the bed, and almost pulled on one of Dudley's old bathrobes—but decided against it, realizing that it probably would remind the Dursleys of Hogwarts, and the last thing Harry needed was to get yelled at. He pulled on some drawstring pants—thankfully, these he had found in a dumpster and were very near his size, unlike the things from Dudley that he was given—over his boxers, and walked tentatively out his door and over to the top of the stairs.

There he was greeted to a funny sight indeed.

It appeared that Dudley had gotten hold of a donut, and was doing everything in his power to hold onto it. Aunt Petunia was rushing after him, screeching for Dudley to put the dratted thing down'. Uncle Vernon was beyond help. He was valiantly trying to tackle Dudley, but kept on failing miserably, crashing into tables and chairs. Harry suddenly had a strong urge to yank the donut from Dudley's hands by way of Accio, but decided that he'd rather not get involved with the Ministry this year.

Harry bit back a laugh as Dudley tripped over Uncle Vernon and his precious donut went flying and landed in the fireplace. His laughing fit turned into loud coughing, and all three Dursleys looked up, their faces that of a guilty child's caught filching a cookie from the cookie jar.

Suddenly, Uncle Vernon's face turned deadly. Harry silenced himself. That look was no good. It was the look Vernon got anytime Harry had done something particularly awful with magic by accident. Harry did not like that look.

He raged, pushing Dudley off him. Harry backed away, feeling behind him for the doorknob to his room. He felt his hand close around cold metal, and he wrenched it open and threw himself inside just as Uncle Vernon came pounding up the stairs. Harry grabbed his wand, all thoughts of how the Improper Use of Magic would kill him from his mind, and prepared to charm the door shut, when he realized—he didn't know the charm to lock doors!

This is not good. He said. This is really not good.




James was over to Sirius's side in milliseconds, whether he believed Sirius to be a murderer or not, he was obviously in horrible pain. Cellie had succeeded to pull Metz halfway out of the chair before dropping him again in surprise, as Sirius spoke in a hoarse yell.

Lily! Lily, I'm so sorry, I never meant to tell you to change to Peter! LILY! No! Get away from me! Get away! Sirius yelled, his eyes squeezed shut in pain. James slapped Sirius, hard, and the Azkaban convict shot up, his breath coming fast and ragged, in irregular clumps. He put his hands up to his face, and slowed down his breathing rate slightly, blinking far too many times in a minute.

James shouted. His former friend stared straight ahead, still breathing heavily. Cellie looked horrorstruck, and Metz fell back yet again, like he had been Petrified.

Sirius, snap out of it! he said, a bit softer this time, putting his hand on Sirius's shoulder. The man jerked, and James pulled his hand away.

Suddenly, Sirius began to speak, not at a level more than a whisper, still staring straight ahead.

Am I to be haunted by you, James, while my soul rests in the Dementor's stomach? He asked, in a low monotone. James frowned. Sirius in a Dementor's stomach? Why, that made no sense at all. Sirius wouldn't be in a Dementor's stomach unless—

Am I doomed to recount that memory over and over, now that I've been Kissed? He questioned again in the monotone. James's eyes flared.

Sirius. You're not in a Dementor's stomach. Relax. You're here. On Earth. You just had a dream. James walked around to face Sirius, who recoiled, pushing himself to the far end of the couch.

You're not real! He shouted, an emotion coming into his voice—panic.

James tried to start, but he cut him off.

No! You died! You're dead! You're not rea— James reached over and slapped him again, making Sirius let out a moan.

What the HELL did you do that for? He yelled. Cellie frowned, glaring daggers at James, who shook his head.

Sirius, you were having a nightmare. Sirius stared into James's eyes, and looked away.

It seems I still am. Either that or I was killed. James shook his head.

Sirius, did your memory get wiped? Remember? You Floo'ed over the Atlantic? You're in California? Sirius frowned, and shook slightly, trying to remember.

... James? It's you. James. It is. He sputtered after a few minutes. James nodded vigorously. Sirius glanced up, and bit his lip.

You hit me. He said, more of a statement than an accusation. James smiled wryly.

Well, I had to do something, Padfoot, you looked like hell. Sirius made a choking noise and put a hand to his face, looking down. James frowned.

Sirius? You all right? Sirius held his other hand up, and he started shaking. Cellie looked troubled, and tried to go over to the convict, but James shook his head—and started laughing, of all things.

James, this is serious! She said, frustrated. Sirius nodded, and for the first time Cellie noticed a glint of glee in his eye.

I know who I am, he choked out, and Cellie realized he was laughing.

Prongs, my friend, He said between those annoying laughing gasps, It really is you. No other person would try to kill me to stop me from killing myself. Both men just laughed harder. Cellie raised a confused eyebrow.

Er, would someone explain what exactly is going on? She asked.

Yeah, that'd be helpful, seeing as how I think you've both gone off the wall. Metz said, hoisting himself up out of the stupid armchair at last. Sirius stopped his odd laughter long enough to sit up.

I assume one or both of you has heard of what I did at the scene of Peter's so called James stopped laughing as well, and cocked an eyebrow at Sirius. Metz, however, began to smile slowly.

You.. You laughed. He said incredulously, as if everything were sliding into place. James looked over to his friend, shaking his head. Sirius grinned rather pitifully, giving him a sad puppy look.

Remember that annoying quirk that Remus always used to comment that we had—

—That every time the situation was most dire—

And it was usually due to a misunderstanding—

All we could do was—

Sirius finished off. Cellie rolled her eyes.

Quite stupid, you know. To laugh. She stated. Sirius chuckled, most of his voice back.

James, are you sure Remus and Lily never went out? I think this is Limus spawn. James bowled over in laughter.

She does.. act like it.. sometimes.. James croaked out. Cellie raised an eyebrow.

Remus? Remus Lupin? James nodded, containing his laughter.

Yeah, why?

Odd, George said the same thing. She said, grinning. Sirius snorted.

He would!

Who's George?

The Weasley kid. Arthur and Molly's. Has a twin brother, who apparently idolizes The Marauders.. Sirius stressed, a glint in his eye. James shook his head in disbelief.

You're kidding.



Hold the phone, do you KNOW them? Metz asked. James grinned.

Know them, Metz, we are them. His mouth dropped open.

You—Sirius—Professor—You're—I mean, I knew you were a prankster, but— He spouted in disbelief. Sirius chuckled.

Another idolizer, huh?

Looks like it. At this point, Metz fainted. Cellie held her ground, but just barely.

.. Woah. She said, trying to keep cool. James chuckled.

Never knew you had a Marauder for a teacher, eh? Cellie shook her head.

No, sir. James turned to Sirius.

So, I—He—I have a son? Sirius nodded.

He's fifteen. Looks just like you, James, except he has Lily's eyes. James shivered.

That could be a bit unnerving. He said. Sirius nodded.

It was for me, at first. Of course, that may have been the I want to kill you because I think you killed my parents attitude, and not his eyes, but hey.. He said, flashing a smile.

James grinned.

Say, I wonder.. where's he living? Sirius frowned.

He spat. James looked furious.

You let him go to the DURSLEYS?! Sirius shook his head.

That was Dumbledore. See, under circumstances—if he had known that I was innocent, maybe—I could've taken Harry—that's his name, by the way—but the world wanted Sirius Black in Azkaban, so that's where Sirius Black went..

Remind me to yell at you about getting yourself thrown into Azkaban later, okay? Sirius nodded.

And, in turn, remind me to remind you to yell at me about getting myself thrown into Azkaban later, okay? James rolled his eyes.

Oh, for the love of Godric.. But that's not my focus. I say, why don't we steal Harry for a week or so? I really hate the idea of the Dursleys getting their hands on any one of Lily's children.

And yours.

Sort of. James concluded.

Easy to get there? Sirius shook his head.

Arabella lives four houses down, and the whole of Privet Drive's covered in Apparation blocks and everything.

Since when has that stopped us? James asked, grinning. Sirius shook his head.

Since I became old. We both can break those wards, James, only because we'd been at them for ages in Hogwarts, but Dumbledore knows that, and he's most likely triggered an alarm system there to send the Ministry running. According to Harry, a house-elf dropped a pie there and the Improper Use of Magic Office was over there faster than your Quaffle snatch. Faster than even they are, James. We'd never get out of there alive. James grinned.

That, my friend, is where you're wrong. I assume Floo powder still works? Sirius nodded, grinning. But it vanished within seconds.

But, James—the Dursleys—they aren't connected! James grinned wryly, and turned to Cellie.

Interested in going to England with us? Cellie nodded, eyes wide with excitement.

Well, you're the best actress in your year, right?

Well, Amy's a bit better—but, well, yeah, I can act, if that's what you're asking. James grinned, and flipped around to the mantle of the fireplace. Finding a jar of Floo powder, he gave Cellie a sprinkleful.

You're to yell Arabella Figg's house. When you get there, look confused and worried. You've gotten off at the wrong grate and are looking for the Weasley's house. You'll have ten minutes to get the lady that lives there into her backyard—or up into the attic. Either one will work. After that you'll have five minutes more to distract her. Go. Cellie nodded, slowly, and walked over to the fireplace. At the last second, she turned.

Leave a note for Metz, will you? James nodded.

Cellie turned back to the fire, threw in the floo powder, and yelled Arabella Figg's house! before jumping in. Sirius turned to James.

This is the stupidest idea I've ever heard out of your mouth, James.

And the one most likely to work.

Well, yeah.




Cellie saw the grates rush past her, miles after miles of them, and then a deep blue space of nothingness. Cellie knew this to be the ocean. Every minute or so she'd see a random grate, and she remembered Metz telling her about the wizard resorts deep beneath the ocean. Cellie even swore she saw Atlantis whizzing by as she kept on going.

Suddenly, she recognized the grate she needed to get off at, and threw herself at it. As she landed, a strange odor reached her nose.

My dear! She heard someone exclaim. What are you doing—Celestia Rivera? Cellie's eyes flickered up, and she gasped in recognition.

Aunt Arabella? What are you doing here?



A/N: Wow, it's already been eight chapters, and I'm at an amazing amount of reviews. You have no idea how amazingly happy I am that people actually care enough to read this story, and I know I'm babbling along like what's-her-face at the Oscars but since no one really reads this anyway, I guess I'm safe.

I know, I know, I missed my Monday update.. forgive me, I am in reality a dumb sloth who has way too much work that has been assigned by her professors. Oh, I'm thinking about changing Cassie's name, seeing as how that seems to be the most popular girl's wizarding name for HP fanfiction. Should I change it? Should I not? If so, any suggestions on what to change it to?

Anyway, Harry meets James next chapter, and it's not I love you son! I love you Dad!, because that's cheesy, overused, and, well, James is not really Harry's dad. I mean, he is, but in the same way that Cassie (of HP and the Mother's Curse) is Harry's sister. Which isn't much at all. Well, just don't dwell on that factor very much, and it won't be as confusing. :p


Peacockgirl: Somehow I missed this review when looking back, so I'll answer it
now. Why does George's penpal look like Remus? You mean Metz? I'm not really sure why Metz looks like Remus, there's a reason why Cellie looks like Lily (and no, for all you speculators, she's not Lily spawn or Lily in disguise), however. I guess I made Metz look like Remus because since he was named James, I didn't really want him to look like James Potter. Harry and James do that enough already. :p

Tarawen: Ah, I see. I was just being stupid about the revelations thing.. just like me, to try and find any hidden meanings to a simple word. :p A gold star? I don't deserve one of those, believe me. Once I left my poor readers off for two months on HP and the Mother's Curse.. but then again, that's mainly because I have no ideas whatsoever for that story.

Weasley, Weasley, and Jordan: *sneaky grin* Yeah, well, Padfoo isn't really mine either, another thing I borrowed off a HP fanfic, so Shhh... :p
Originally I wanted the memory to be of Sirius finding James and Lily, but it was overdone, overused, and just personally—it's not guilt tripping, it's just sad.

Jenny: Yesh, James will indeed meet Harry, but don't expect it to be some huge happy reunion.

ra-chan: To tell you the truth, I think Sirius always wasn't the most cheerful about water, and to top his water fears off, they go and put him on an island prison. Sirius should win that stupid show, Fear Factor—no, scratch that. It's too dumb for a fictional character of his class to go on.

Giesbrecht: I love your pen name.. is it German? Anyway, originally I had everyone saying awright', which is really a dumb error on my part. Only the Californians (Metz and Cellie) should be saying awright, since that's how Californians (well, at least where I live) say it. From what I've seen, English people spell it as alright' or all right'. In these later chapters, I've tried to correct James, Sirius, Cassie, or anyone else who isn't from So. California's spelling of the word.

Rose Fencer: Can if you want em to be.. I agree. Sirius does have the bad deal, very much.

Erin: I know, poor Sirius gets all the crap thrown at him. I think I didn't have James stay too mad at him for precisely that reason.. and the fact that Sirius is just not a character you can stay mad at..

oowth: The girl that got paint spilt on her was Cellie, and she did have James's wand.. but I like to think that wizards can still use their powers outside of their wand. After all, if Harry can make a sheet of glass disappear, and several other things without a wand, then his father should be able to as well..

alli: Read what I told Jenny.

Bess: *grin* I'm glad you like... Your GG stories are quite good, by the way.. I'm in the process of reading your newest trory..