A/N: --UPDATED-- Sorry for the long wait, my computer crashed about three times while I was writing this, and chose not to save anything, so.. -_-; Here we see one of my favorite scenes—Remus the rampaging wolf.. whatever shall our heroes do? :p

- Cellie

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

Disclaimer: Evan Rivera, Wendy Figg Rivera, Venna Rivera, Cellie Rivera, James Metz, and Cassie Black Woods (No relation to Mother's Curse) are all mine. The plot, however odd, is mine. Annie (Andromeda) Black is loosely based on a character created by the great and mighty fanfiction writer Kaydi. I'm not quite sure where Zachary Zebra comes from.. ask the crazed nuts also known as Ren's theatre teachers. The Potters, and anyone else I may mention are property to J.K Rowling, and her alone—I really have nothing to say anymore for awhile, do I—That's nice, Cassie.

Chapter Thirteen
The Thirteenth Hour

The Present: August 2nd, 1995

So, if you drag your finger from that crater on the full moon downstage right—

Downstage right? Sirius interrupted, causing Cellie to lower her arm with Sirius's over it back down. She turned to him and rolled her eyes.

Theatre terms. She replied. Sirius cocked an eyebrow.

You're an actress? Cellie shrugged.

Sort of.. I want to be, anyway. Professor Evans—I mean, James—taught at an Arts school. Sirius burst out laughing.

James can't act! Cellie nodded vigorously.

He was always trying to convince us in class that he used to go to an arts school. Tried to act out a scene from ZZ..

What's ZZ? Cellie grinned slyly.

Zachary Zebra. Sirius gave a loud snort.

Who names their zebra Zachary? He asked, a glint in his eyes.

Cellie said, and then launched into the oddest rendition of a poem that Sirius had ever heard.

Zachary Zebra did not like buttons or snaps or sleeves or slippers or zillions of zippers— Sirius snickered.

And, why, dear Celestia, would a zebra like ZIPPERS? Cellie held up a finger.

She said, drawing it out.

But what?

He did like.. She trailed off again.

He did like.. Sirius imitated her. But whatever Cellie responded with was cut off by the loudest howl Sirius had ever heard. However, he would recognize those vocal patterns anywhere. His eyes widened, and he grabbed Cellie.

Cellie! We've got to get inside! He yelled. She, obviously realizing that that howl had come from no ordinary wolf, nodded, and ran for the door, with Sirius trailing after her. Just as she was about to reach the door, a growl stopped her dead in her tracks. One of the largest gray wolves stood in her paths, with golden stripes running down its shaggy fur.

Nice.. wolf.. She stammered, holding her hands up. It bared its fangs and padded closer to her, getting ready to strike.

Say, SIRIUS, WHAT THE HELL DO I— Her yell was cut off by a tremendous black dog barreling into the wolf's side. She fell back in surprise, but the wolf was knocked clear across the yard. Then, to Cellie's astonishment, the black dog transformed into—into SIRIUS?

She tried to ask, but he shook his head, and looked over to where the wolf had been knocked. It looked angry, and had just gotten to its feet, ready for a second pass. Sirius looked into her eyes, a steely cold stare.

I'll tell you later, Cellie, but you have to go! Get out of here! He commanded, and transformed back, bounding towards the wolf, who had gotten back onto its feet. Cellie didn't need to be told twice. She ran the remaining thirty yards to the glass door and proceeded to try and wrench it open—but it had been locked. She saw Harry and James running towards the door, and she pounded on the door, yelling.

Harry! James! WOLF! She yelled. Harry, quicker than the senior Potter, got to the door and tried to pull it open, to no avail. His face contorted into one of horror, and he tried again to open it. James, however, had taken to a more conventional method. He had yanked a chair from the kitchen, and was charging towards the glass with it. Cellie moved out of the way, and snuck a glance at her Uncle and the wolf.

It seemed that the wolf was winning. Cellie cringed. Even in Sirius's—was it a dog?—state, he was still very weak. Ten years ago, he might have been able to beat this.. this thing—Cellie reasoned that the wolf' was something much more sinister than a simple night creature—but not tonight.

Just then, a loud bang caused Cellie to look back at the glass door—which seemed not to be glass at all. The chair bounced back from the glass, and threw James with it. Cellie temporarily forgotten, Harry rushed over to James, who shook his head and gestured to Harry's pocket. He nodded, and ran back to Cellie. Harry pulled out a stick which Cellie knew to be a wand, and started yelling something. Sparks and light came from it, but the glass' stayed intact, and when Cellie rattled the knob again, it was still locked.

She yelled.

Harry took her curse the wrong way, and mouthed back (the glass was not only chair repellant, it was soundproof) something like I'm TRYING, DAMMIT!

Sirius, who Cellie could see had managed to wrench his head up from the battle, looked alarmed that Cellie hadn't gotten inside yet.

What the hell is going on? Why aren't you in? A voice appeared in her head. It startled her at first, but she realized it was Sirius.

She tried sending a thought back his way, hoping it'd work. Some sort of repelling thing. It won't let me in, or James and Harry out.

Bloody fantastic, the wards.

Wards?

To keep Remus from getting inside the house. Cellie blinked. Surely she had heard wrong. The wolf wasn't—it couldn't be—

Bingo, kid, Sirius sent, his thought channel a bit remorseful. Cellie took a deep breath, and tried to think clearly. Her mother hadn't been a witch, she had nothing to rely on, what would she have done? Gone to the people who could help, of course. But what good were Harry and James, if they couldn't even get outside?

Suddenly, Cellie was hit with an idea. Sirius? She called, hopefully.

What is it? He asked, a bit annoyed. Cellie supposed that it was due to having a wolf as a wrestling partner. Her poor uncle didn't exactly look good, but he was keeping Remus away from here, which was a good thing.

Is the whole house warded?

No, just the first floor. We figured that Remus couldn't jump that high while in his werewolf form. Cellie nodded, a grim resolution on her hands. She turned to Harry, and signaled for him to stop the barrage of spells.

Second floor! She mouthed. Harry nodded, and went over to James, telling him something. He got up, suddenly, and both Potters disappeared from view.

Of course, Remus took that moment to escape from Sirius and come running towards her.

This is bad. She said to herself, looking for anything to climb up on the side of the house. Really bad.

Suddenly, the crashing of glass was heard above her, and Cellie had just enough time to dodge the barrage of pointy glass fragments—and a big, dark figure that flew out the window, landing on the grass. The wolf stopped itself in its tracks, and padded back a couple of steps. Cellie glanced up, and her breath caught in her throat. A magnificent stag was illuminated on the grass by the moonlight, larger than any deer that she had seen. But where, exactly did you find a deer in a house, even in one such as Remus's?

Guess who, Cellie. She jumped, and flicked her eyes to the stag, who bobbed its head. She blinked in astonishment. It seems that Remus did as well, for the wolf just stood there, a look of surprise etched onto his face. Suddenly, Cellie heard a voice from the second story balcony.

Cellie! Grab on! Harry's voice yelled. A makeshift rope of bedding dropped itself down to her eye level, and she grabbed it, using the rocky wall of Remus's home to travel up the rope. It seems upon hearing Harry's voice, the wolf came out of its stupor, and charged at Cellie. Both stag and dog were up there in a flash to prevent that. That isn't to say that it was easy for Cellie to climb up. On the contrary, she slipped and nearly fell several times.

She finally made it up to the balcony, and Harry helped her over. They both looked at the animals on the lawn, stag and dog forming a circle around the wolf, trapping it.

You don't think.. They won't KILL Mr. Lupin, will they? She asked Harry. He shook his head.

According to Sirius, they used to do this all the time when they were at school. Bit of fun, for them. Cellie let out a sigh of relief.

Say, Harry?



They'll come in eventually, right?

Ah, yeah, sure. They just need to make sure that Remus doesn't hurt anyone. Cellie nodded, but all the same, she stayed out on the balcony long after Harry had gone back in, just watching her uncle and former professor pacing around a wolf in a procession of sorts.



The wolf was hungry. The wolf saw a girl, and ran to attack the girl. Remus cried out, Stop! Remus tried with all his might to stop the wolf, but it was too determined. It had been hurt by the female race today. It wasn't in a good mood. Suddenly, a dog smashed into the wolf. That made it even more unhappy. It shut out Remus's pleas. It went after the dog, and was making quite good progress before it realized that the dog was just a distraction. It wanted human meat. It wanted it now.

Of course, the wolf was not expecting to see the stag smash out of the window. And those precious few seconds Remus was able to snatch up as a memory. The memory of a giant stag silhouette.. Had Harry cast a Patronus? But why would he? And it looked so real..

But the wolf snatched up control again, and Remus's thoughts were once again erased. All for that persistent memory, of the stag..


The Present: August 3rd, 1995

Remus woke up in the early morning with several large cuts and bruises on his arms and legs. He turned his head away from the bright sunlight that was filtering itself in through a window. He remembered absolutely nothing from the the previous night, which, for Remus, was a very bad thing. It meant that he had either gotten very, very drunk—or there had been a full moon. Considering what had happened the day before, Remus wasn't sure which one it was. Perhaps it was both, his head certainly hurt enough.

He sat up, groaning, recognizing the familiar smell of his bedroom. However, it looked oddly different—there was a big black dog sitting on the end of his bed, and another human was curled in the corner.

Oh, no, what've I done.. Remus muttered. He didn't recognize the figure, though the dog was easily identified.

He croaked, moving his feet to wake the dog up. Sirius, wake up. The dog lifted one eyebrow, gave him a dirty look, and went back to sleep. The other figure, however, stirred, unbeknownst to Remus.

Sirius, get up. Hey! The dog rolled over, trapping Remus in his bed.

Padfoot, you stupid slug, get off poor Remus. He froze. That voice was too familiar for comfort. Remus took a glance over towards the stranger, and then snapped his head back, sucking in a series of ragged breaths.

For Godric's sake.. I'm drunk, aren't I.




A/N: I don't think I'll show Remus's reaction.. otherwise, I'll end up making it like Sirius's, I know it. Besides, I still have Peter's and Dumbledore's reaction, so..


Bess: ROFL! I haven't seen Ocean's Eleven, so I'll take your word for it. Blah, I don't want a trained expert. I want my sister—and maybe some school board administrators—to suffer.. :p

A Mary Sue is basically the classic do-gooder. She is an American transfer student that falls in love with Harry, Ron, or Sirius (don't ask), saves the day on more than one occasion, and ends up showing up Hermione in class, making her terribly mad at her. The other option would be to make her Harry's sister who magically reappears and is usually living off in a cave or palace somewhere so no one really knows who she is. This version of Mary-Sue is usually called a Leia.

Tarawen: I dunno, I figure that Voldie and Dumbledore must have some kind of connection—I doubt Dumbledore gets all his information from Snape.

Weasley, Weasley, and Jordan: Number one, read the answer I gave to Tarawen. Number two, I think that the Voldie in my story is probably just an illusion of sorts.

ShortySC22: I'm writing as fast as I can! :p

Jelli Bean: That's the deal with my stories—always complicated, all the time. I should be a writer for an evening show on the WB. :p

Time Twins: Glad you love it!