A/N: --UPDATED-- Silly FF.net being down.. It's just another diabolical plot to disable this story, I know it.. Now, where was I supposed to meet Professor Moody? :

Oh, and this is SUPER IMPORTANT, I lost my whole contact list, so PLEASE E-MAIL ME AT celestialspectre@mac.com IF YOU STILL WANT UPDATES!

- 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. The Potters, and anyone else I may mention are property to J.K Rowling, and her alone—I swear, never trust a marauder—That's nice, Cassie.

Chapter Nineteen
Exploration


For the remaining week of vacation, Cassie remained rather hidden, down in the dungeon. Of course, she usually roped Remus into staying down there as well, so his friends saw very little of him. On this particular day, though, she had finally decided that the cramped Potions room was a bit too.. roomy for her. As were the lovely gaseous smells. So she started off for Remus's office. However, Cassie being Cassie, she got lost. Very lost.

Um, excuse me, She asked a painting of two twin boys, Would you happen to know where the Defense Against the Dark Arts room is?

That way. The two boys pointed in opposite directions. The first boy shook his head at the second.

No, Archie, it's this way. The second boy pouted.

No way, I know my Defense Against the Dark Arts rooms. It's that way.

No, Archie! That's the way to..

Uh, thanks. She said, and walked away rather hurriedly, leaving the boys in the argument. So much for asking the paintings. She was so immersed in thought that she didn't see the person charging forward. And, of course, their paths collided. Cassie and the stranger were both knocked to the ground.

You'd do best to watch where you were going next time, you imbecile, she muttered as she got to her feet.

Beg pardon? The voice asked, which had a slimy tone to it. She looked towards the voice and its owner, which had smashed into her. The man had chin length greasy black hair, and a sullen face. He gave her a quick once over, and sniffed. I'm sorry, I didn't know that they still allowed relics in this institution. Cassie growled.

Who do you think you bloody well are? She exclaimed. Not the king of France, I should hope. You have no manners, which I suppose would suit you well in France, but your hair is too greasy, even for them. The man sneered at her.

Well, well, the relic has a temper. So you're Albus's new window display. What are you, a ghost? Cassie narrowed her eyes, and muttered something. Instantly, the man fell over in a full body bind curse, the shock evident on his face.

You'd do best to remember that I am a teacher here, whomever you are, and that no one at all insults me. Period. So shove off, unless you can tell me where the Defense Against the Dark Arts room is. The figure made a grunting sound, and she waved his mouth unbound with another wandless spell.

Yes, what is it? She asked.

So you're the new Defense teacher? Hopefully you'll teach these brats something. Cassie snorted.

Defense? Me? No. See, if the class was called Offense Against the Dark Arts, then that would be a different story. Remus Lupin is teaching Defense, I believe. The man's eyes widened in amazement.

Lupin? That— She growled at the figure, and shut him up again.

You don't say bad things about Remus. To anyone. Now, good day. Hope someone finds you.. eventually. And with that, she walked on.





After about thirty minutes more of wandering around, she finally found the third floor corridor, and with it, Remus's classroom. However, upon entering it, she saw the man she had frozen in the corridor talking—well, yelling was more like it—at Remus.

Remus, she could tell, was having a hard time not falling asleep. She walked in, silently, glad that the man's back was turned, and waved at Remus. That shook him out of his stupor, and he grinned softly.

Are you listening, Lupin? The greasy haired man's voice cut in.

Yes, of course, Severus. Continue, by all means. Severus, who she assumed to be the greasy haired man, scowled.

Look, Remus! This girl is a terrorizing force! She froze me! Without a wand! Cassie smothered a giggle, and pointed to herself, mouthing, Who, me?, so that Remus could see it. He went into a sudden coughing fit.

Severus said, the scowl deepening on his face. Get over it! Remus straightened himself up, shooting a glare Cassie's way.

I'm sorry, Severus. Must have caught something in my throat. Anyway, what is it of my concern that a ravage' girl is romping around the school? I thought you weren't working here anymore, so what is it yours, either? Severus glared at Remus.

She mentioned your name. Remus chuckled.

Oh, did she? And what, perhaps, did this girl look like? Severus scrunched up his face.

A female image of Black. I don't understand why on earth the headmaster trusts such characters. He spat out, the scowl on his face growing even more intense. Cassie, taking this as her cue, walked down the steps.

Characters? Why, Severus, I'm flattered. No one has called me a character since I was around two. The greasy haired man spun around, his eyes widening.

What are you doing here? He questioned, a sneer on his face. Cassie went over to Remus and rested her head on his shoulder.

Just going to see a friend.. She said, smirking. My dungeons are too cold. Although she didn't know what reaction that would provoke, the one that did was certainly a spectacle. Snape's face turned purple.

Your.. YOUR DUNGEONS? You—You're teaching potions? Cassie nodded simply, throwing a look his direction.

Well, yes, I mean, potionmaking is such a fun game.. what with the explosions I've made so far, and the students haven't even arrived yet! Severus balked, his jaw dropping open, and as gracefully as possible (which wasn't much), he ran up the steps, and out the door. Cassie burst out laughing.

Who is that man? Did you see his reaction when I mentioned potions? My gosh, is it that much of a sacred thing to him? She asked. Remus grinned lopsidedly.

He's the man whose job you're taking over; yes, indeed I did, quite amusing; and knowing Severus.. Remus gave her a lopsided grin. Cassie snorted.

You're kidding. He's the man whom I'm replacing? Remus nodded craftily.

Grinning, Cassie reached into her pocket and took out her partially finished wand, toying with it.

Oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he discovers his storerooms.. perfect. Remus put his arm around her, a smirk upon his face.

Cassie, my dear, my friends will adore you for this. She gave Remus a dangerously prankish look, a look he shuddered upon. It was a perfect imitation of Sirius.

But of course, Rem—Hey, something wrong? His smile had faded at her grin.

Er.. No, no, I'm fine. He muttered, all too quickly.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow, glancing into his flecked eyes, which gave a vastly different expression than his words of protest.

She asked innocently. Don't tell me you've started to feel compassion for that Severus character.. Honestly, has his hair always been like that, or does it get especially unruly when he's mad? A corner of Remus's mouth turned upward, and the previous topic was momentairily dropped.

Yes on both counts, I believe, Remus replied, with the straightest face he could manage. Cassie ruffled his hair, admist his protesting swats.

Remus, you joker, no one's hair can look that bad all the time. Remus was about to retort, but was cut off by a hauntingly familiar tone of voice.

Moony! So, this is what's been keeping you occupied.. a man who made Severus's hair look halfway decent rang out from the top of the stairs, a bit of a hurt sound in his voice. Guiltily, both Cassie and Remus stepped away from each other quickly.

What was that about your friends adoring me? She whispered. Remus grinned sheepishly in response, though Cassie wasn't sure whether it was directed at her, or the man.

You could've told us, Remus.. He said, his voice lowering as he climbed down the stairs. We wouldn't have teased you.. Not much, that is. We are older.. Cassie saw Remus's shoulders sag out of the corner of her eye. Even though she wasn't sure why exactly Remus hadn't told his friends (Though she supposed that one of them being Sirius Black had to do with it), she decided to cover for him. This once.

You could've tried knocking, Cassie said in mock anger. For all you know, Remus here could've been wrestling down a mountain troll for his Defense class, and you just decide to BARGE in? Remus studied a spot of green Wraith goop on the desk intensely, looking like he wanted to melt into the floor. The man looked slightly taken aback, and he chuckled, of all things.

Remus, I like her. She's the first person in this castle who hasn't stared at me like I was a relic. The man commented offhandedly.

Well, ditto to you. Cassie replied, the anger still visible in her speech. He raised his eyebrows, barely noticeable in the mop of black hair that sat atop his forehead.

Really. Were you a Ravenclaw, back in Hogwarts? I don't know, but you remind me slightly of Melly.. Now it was Cass's turn to look at the man oddly.

Er, I didn't attend Hogwarts. And even if I did, I think I'm a bit out of your timeline for you to recognize me, or know me. She said plainly.

Cass, cut it out, Remus muttered, studying the desktop harder than ever. She gave him a strange look.

Why should I? Is he that important? She said airily. The man's eyes narrowed.

Now, hold up a moment, what did I do? He asked. I'd at least be informed of my charges before being sentenced, Miss.. Cassie rolled her eyes.

Woods. Cassandra Woods. She saw the man's face go into a harrowed thinking look.

Are you sure I don't know you from somewhere? He asked, abruptly.

Not unless you knew Mariah and Jonathan, Cassie muttered. And you lived in the early Twentieth Century. The man raised an eyebrow.

So.. You're a TimeTraveler..? Cassie gave him an odd look, paired with a weak chuckle.

Relatively speaking, yeah. Remus seemed to've dug himself out of the blank stare at the goop, and refocused his attention on the man.

Look, James.. He started, but Cassie cut him off at the name.

James? As in James Potter? I thought you said.. Remus shook his head and began to open his mouth.

It's complicated. Don't ask. James Potter intercut, saving Remus the trouble of explaining. So, why are you at, uh, Hogwarts?

It's complicated. Don't ask. Cass replied simply. James blew out a frustrated sigh.

Alright, at least explain to me how you know Remus.. That can't be classified, can it? Shrugging, Cassie fiddled with the wand in her hands.

Er.. he was guarding me in Azkaban. She watched James's mouth fall open with some amusement, and grinned over to Remus. The sandy haired man just shook his head in disbelief.




So, the Sorting Hat didn't try to kill you? Cellie asked incredulously, as they walked down another endless corridor, which supposedly was a shortcut' to the grounds, where Cellie was to meet a carriage to take her and Harry to Hogsmeade. There they'd take an Express train (All this magic and no flying cars? She had asked Harry, who mumbled something that sounded distinctly like Mr. Weasley.) to Diagon Alley, supposedly the best place to buy wizarding supplies.

James had originally wanted to come along, but Mr. Dumbledore—Professor Dumbledore, Cellie reminded herself—had destroyed that idea, pointing out that most of the Wizarding world thought him dead. James reluctantly agreed, so the two had set off 20 minutes ago for the carriage. Except, it seemed to Cellie that they had gotten lost, though she didn't dare mention it to Harry.

Just then, Harry stopped and gave her a skeptical look, throwing her from her thoughts.

What, is it required that every magical thing has to try to kill me at least once? He said, sarcastically. Cellie nodded in complete sincerity.

Of course. First there was the Mirror of.. Erides? Harry groaned, slapping his palm to his forehead.

Cells, it didn't actually try to kill me.. He said, valiantly. She scoffed.

Oh, so trying to make you stare at an image for your parents for all eternity, that's just inviting you over for tea and crumpets, right.. And then there was that Diary that turned out to belong to bloody You-Know-Who.. He stared straight back at her.

Voldemort. Vol-Di-Mort. It can't be that hard to say. Cellie fiddled with a button on her shirt. Rolling his eyes, Harry stepped up to a statue of a one-eyed hump-backed witch to their left.

Have it your way, then.. He called back, reaching for his wand. He started examining the statue with the utmost care. Cellie raised an eyebrow at the witch, and then her friend.

Ladies and gents, Harry's finally gone nuts.. She muttered. He gave her a dirty look.

Let's not have that now, it'll sound like one of Rita Skeeter's articles. The Boy Who Cracked'... Cellie snickered while Harry turned back to the statue and reached into the back pocket of his pants, retrieving his wand. They were both clad in muggle clothing, Cellie because she had nothing else, and Harry simply because his robes had again gotten too small for him to wear. The much needed growth spurt was finally taking effect, but at the cost of his robes.

Harry was dressed in a pair of worn jeans that actually fit, for once, and an oversized sweatshirt of Dudley's that had been charmed by Fred and George last year to read Smeltings Lacrosse — MVP: Dudley Dursley — I put the Smell in Smeltings!

A well worn Chudley Cannons cap covered most of his hair, and flattened down his bangs so that his scar didn't show up. Harry had confided in her that the last thing he wanted was publicity, and privately, Cellie agreed. As far as she knew, her father knew nothing of her whereabouts, and she intended to keep it that way.

In comparison, Cellie was wearing waterproof shorts and a green tank top, with an equally green bandanna tying back her hair. Each teenager had a small key around their neck, which Harry explained unlocked each particular Gringotts vault.

Harry tapped the hump of the witch twice, and said, to it. Even though Cellie shouldn't have been surprised that the statue moved away, revealing a secret passageway, she was very much so.

Eh.. Nice shortcut. She commented to Harry in the calmest voice possible. Harry grinned, and climbed through, motioning for her to follow him down into the dusty passageway.




What are you saying, Albus? Cornelius Fudge was in the fireplace, his head looking very angry.


I simply said, Minister, that Harry is safe and sound here, at Hogwarts. Fudge narrowed his eyes.

Who brought him over? Arabella—

—was assigned to bring him over here for the remainder of the summer. Now, about the other matter.. Fudge sighed.

You know as well as I do, Albus, that we cannot accept transfer students, and on top of that you can't accept those over eleven! It's too much material! She won't be able to learn it in time to take OWLs at the end of Fifth year. Dumbledore smiled eerily.

Oh, I have no doubt that Miss Granger would certainly be willing to help. She is, after all, Dumbledore pointed out, the highest scoring student Hogwarts has seen since Miss Evans.

Oh, that's not the point, Albus. If you let Rivera in, the school board will have a fit. They're angry enough about that.. disaster at the Triwizard Tournament, and you're lucky that the Diggorys did not chance to try Harry—

The Diggorys have no right to try Harry. It was not his wand who performed the Avada Kedavra, and you know it, Cornelius. Fudge's small round face turned a startling shade of purple, and he began fiddling with the goatee he had started to grow.

Well, er, if you'll excuse me, Albus, I have another fire. We will continue this discussion later. And Fudge winked out. Albus smiled, slightly, and continued sucking on a raspberry sugar quill. At least he could still win the small victories around here, even if the Ministry flat out refused to listen to him.

Ah, well, Fawkes, He commented to the Phoenix, It seems I may have to put matters into my own hands..




Cellie and Harry arrived at Platform 7 1/2 right on schedule, and weaved themselves throughout the throngs of people to get out of King's Cross.

Just like my school halls! She yelled at Harry, who chuckled weakly. Being in big crowds was really not his thing.

If anybody thought it odd that two fifteen year olds were struggling to get over to the exit with the nastier' part of town behind it, no one showed it. They managed to weave long enough to slip through the exit and into grubby London. Cellie shot Harry a glance.

Nice place.. Real nice. She said sarcastically. Harry rolled his eyes, and beckoned her to follow him as he turned the corner into a small pub that Cellie had to look at three times to make sure of its existence, and even then, she walked into the doorframe twice before slipping inside.

The Leaky Cauldron, as the sign outside read, certainly didn't look leaky. In fact, it looked relatively respectable. It seemed to be a relatively slow Saturday, because only a few patrons were in the bar. The keeper (who must have been nearing his eighties) smiled a gap-toothed grin when he saw Harry.

He started to say, but her friend shook his head wildly. Nodding, the barkeep motioned for them to come closer. Harry walked up to him, with Cellie trailing behind, taking in the smell and sight of the place.

Thanks, Tom.. Harry said gratefully.

Anything for a friend, Harry.. Say, I was wondering when you were going to come in.. Ron n Hermione have already been in and out for supplies, so I— Tom stopped short as he caught sight of Cellie. Who's this? Snapping out of her gaze, Cellie grinned.

Celestia Rivera, nice to meet you. She said brightly. Tom's eyes widened ever so slightly, and Cellie thought he muttered something that sounded like American'.

.. Well.. Rivera, eh? Well, I'll be dammed, I thought your family died out, young Celestia. Cellie looked uncomfortably embarrassed to say anything more, so Harry broke the silence.

Tom, d'you suppose you could book us two rooms, one night only? Cellie and I both have to catch the Express tomorrow.. Tom nodded slightly.

Sure thing, Harry. Before Harry could point out that he didn't have any money as of yet, the barkeeper smiled warmly. I'll be putting this on your tab until this afternoon, all right? Harry grinned.

Thanks again, Tom.. C'mon, Cellie, we still have a billion things to get.. And she followed him into the storage room.

Harry pulled out his wand again, and started tapping random bricks in a secure stone wall. Eyebrows raised, Cellie got the shock of her life upon seeing the wall simply roll away, revealing Diagon Alley.

The small cobblestone street was massively crowded with stores, carts, wizards, witches, and teenagers of all ages. Not more than two feet away a small child with blond hair was pawing at a glass display, which inside lay some of the most wondrous chocolates Cellie had ever set her eyes on.

The models were all enchanted chocolate versions of structures, and as Harry led her through the crowd she caught a glimpse of one made to look like Harry himself, though she dared not mention it to him. From what Harry had told her about his misadventures, he didn't seem to like publicity much.

Harry had to pull her away from at least five more window displays before they reached the oddest looking marble building she'd seen in her life. It had a definite swerve to it, but somehow just looking at the structure, Cellie thought that nothing could possibly be stronger than it.

What is it? She asked Harry wonderingly. He chuckled, slightly. Gringotts. It's where we're going to get our money from. Money. Cellie had almost forgotten about that factor. She took a fresh gulp of air as they entered the massive building. What if Dumbledore was wrong? What if her father had cashed in all his money already? What if—

Harry said urgently, breaking her out of her thought train. They were at the front desk, where the ugliest looking creature she'd ever seen sat there.

Uh.. Yeah? She replied, distracted. The.. thing shuddered slightly. Apparently, it didn't like her speaking very much.

I need your key.

Oh, yeah, sure. She slipped off the key and handed it to Harry, who in turn gave it to the monster.

Cellie shuddered inwardly. If the thing thought her accent was bad, his could be qualified as molten gravel. A smaller version of the one sitting behind the desk popped up next to Cellie, suddenly, who gave a small yelp of surprise.

How serve I? The smaller creature asked, in a squeakier tone than the first.

Take these humans down to their vaults, please. Weavel nodded, grabbed the two keys from the boss, and motioned for Cellie and Harry to follow. Both did, but at a very safe distance.



The cart ride to Harry's vault was something both exhilarating and horrifying, so Cellie had basically enough and could barely stand when they arrived at the vault. Harry himself was a bit green, but held himself up better than Cellie was feeling.

As Weavel opened the vault with Harry's key, she got only a glimpse of the contents from her seat in the cart, but it was enough to make her jaw drop open. Coming from a relatively down to earth family—no spending unless it was absolutely necessary—she'd never seen that much in her lifetime. Harry spent relatively little time in the vault before coming out again, a grin at Cellie's speechless expression.

That's.. I mean.. Wow. She managed to babble out. Oh wonderful, sound like a complete idiot, Cells. Harry gulped slightly.

It's not that much, really.. He tried to explain, embarrassed. Snapping out of her stupor, she gave him a grin.

You need not be bashful about that kind of a fortune, Harry.. Jesus, I dunno how you can't stop yourself from buying Diagon Alley with that. And no arguments, She said kindly, wagging a finger at Harry. Some people just are better off than others. Like me, Cellie thought inwardly. She covered up the envy quickly, though, and helped Harry climb back into the cart.

You know, I'd rather just walk, He told Weavel as the creature jumped up to the front of the cart.

I seeeeeecond! Cellie yelled, as Weavel started up the cart again, throwing both to the backs of their seats.



Where IS he? Sirius muttered, kicking at the carpeted floor of the Library. Honestly, James.. I'll only be gone a moment, Sirius, I just want to find Remus, he'll love this.. A mew of protest from the Library table turned Sirius back to his forgotten charge. The small winged black kitten mewed again, impatiently. It was no bigger than a baby owl, and one of the more forgotten ways to send post.

Imagine Sirius and James's surprise to find that one had been prowling the old passageways. It wasn't really a kitten of course, adult Ciruses took on that form and were usually close to a thousand or so years old.

In sixth year, upon Remus's findings that little winged kittens were somehow abundantly found in the Forbidden Forest, the trio (Peter, the bastard, had feigned illness—fear of the forest was more like it) set off to take a picture of one with an enchanted camera and then compare it with their Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them books.

They successfully took a picture of the elusive creature, but it was nowhere to be found in the book. It was only after they showed the picture to Hagrid that they found out about Ciruses from him. However, Hagrid had refused to help them capture one, and so the kittens were forgotten. Until now, that was.

The thing mewed again, nudging against Sirius's shoulder. He jumped in surprise at the kitten just flapping there, six feet in the air, before taking it in his hand.

You hungry, huh? The kitten nodded its head.

Well, we'd better go to the kitchens, then.. James'll just have to catch up with us. The kitten brightened at the word kitchen, and its mewing increased. Shh, you little devil.. Say, what d'you eat, anyhow? The kitten grinned, showing several rows of sharp, pointy teeth. Sirius all but recoiled.

Er.. So, uh, that's how you stayed alive.. The kitten shook its head.

.. No? Sirius asked. The kitten nodded.

So those teeth.. you don't eat house elves? It shuddered.

.. Guess not. Uh.. How about some, ah.. Cream tart? Sirius suggested, digging out a napkin wrapped tart from his last fiasco with the elves. The kitten's eyes lit up, and it dug into the tart with fervor. Sirius chuckled.

Kitten, we're going to become great friends..




The cart stopped again at Cellie's vault what seemed like hours later. Her stomach heaving, Cellie got out of the cart with difficulty.

Rivera Vault, Number One Hundred One. Weavel announced. Come with me, please. Cellie walked up shakily to the door of the vault, where he put in the small silver key into the single lock on the door. It swung open—revealing a solid stone wall. Cellie's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Er.. Weavel? She asked, hesitantly.

Yes, ma'am?

How do I.. Weavel nodded, and pointed to the wall. An imprint of three sets of hands was there that hadn't appeared a second ago.

Warily, Cellie stepped up to the imprints, reading the stamped name under each of them. Evan Rivera.. These handprints were rough, and had many crinkles in them. She smiled slightly, and looked at the next set.

A smaller, more delicate set read, Annie Black Rivera. Cellie gulped, swallowing tears. True, it had been less than a month that Cellie had found out her mum was not really her mother, but it still hurt her enormously.

She wiped her eyes quickly and went onto the last set. These were incredibly small, the size off an infant's, and read Cellie Rivera in big, sloppy kid print. Cellie raised a hand hesitantly, and to her surprise, the handprint widened, and conformed to look like she had put it into the stone herself. It turned a blinding red color, and then she felt a—tug—and felt her hand in the cold stone.

The wall melted away, revealing a small room filled with some of the oddest things she'd seen—they had to be a wizard's toys. A small broom was propped up in the corner, and several toy wands laid on the floor. Cellie stepped into the room, amazed. She noticed a shimmer to her left, and turned—to come face to face with a pile of galleons—the wizard's twenty—as high as she was. Cellie's Hogwarts Money was carved in over the piles. Her heart caught in her throat, and she stood there, dumbstruck.

Harry's voice came from outside the vault. You alright?

She said softly. Yeah, Harry, I'm fine.. I'll be out in a few. She gulped in a couple of breaths, trying to get herself to calm down. Slowly, she took the satin bag she was given to collect her money and put several handfuls of Galleons in it. She closed the bag, and took another longing look at the vault, before exiting.

I'll be back.. I have to be back.



A/N: Alright, so there you have it. I tried to get my beloved HP characters (which are not mine) to get back into character, not sure whether it worked or not.. Well, it's certainly been an experiment. Two months of story time equal to nineteen chapters.. imagine how big the school year's going to be.. o_o;

ra-chan: Oops! ^_^; You're right, Dobby does speak in the third person.. I just haven't read the books in awhile (Blasphemy! :p).. And.. O_O I don't know what gave you that idea, but Remus is most certainly NOT Sirius's grandfather.. Now, that would be traumatizing.. AOTC is shortform for Attack Of The Clones—really great action stuff, but ba-ad script..

Phoenix Silverwind: Heh, I know.. I don't like sand, ri-ight..