A/N: *Comes out with a rather large plexiglass shield.* -_-; Jeez.. What's wrong with Slytherin? .. Nevermind, don't answer that.

IMPORTANT! Every single chapter has been given an overhaul and a rewrite. Some have been changed slightly, others, not so slightly. I do suggest that you re-read Chapters 1-20 again, as minor details have probably changed that will affect the story later. Chapters 1-10 have the most changes, 11-20 have smaller ones.

- Cellie

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

Disclaimer: Anyone you don't recognize is most likely mine. The concept of Timekeys are mine, as well as how they're used. The Cirrus species is all mine. Everything else (Harry, Peter, Voldie, James, Remus, Arabella, Sirius, Dumbledore, McGonnagal, Flitwick, Snape, and all the other Wizarding people) belongs to J.K Rowling. Styx and Queen belong to themselves, as does J.R.R Tolkien. The concept of Annie being Sirius's squib/muggle twin sister belongs to Kaydi. Annie's personality, however, belongs to me.

Chapter Twenty Two
Slytherin Number Thirty



Cellie blinked roughly. The hat must've made a mistake! She hadn't wanted to go into Slytherin, not really.. Yet somehow the members of the Great Hall had heard the shout just as well as her own ears had. Cellie chanced a glance at Parvati, who looked horrified. She tried to scan the Gryffindor table for Harry as she got off the stool and handed the hat to McGonnagal as cooly as possible. However, as she walked slowly to the Slytherin table, where she spotted Malfoy giving her a shrewd look (not menacing, but there was something strange in his glance), Cellie didn't have much time to stare over at the Gryffindors.

Cellie walked up the table, looking for an empty plate. But, as many would do to a new student riding the bus, spaces that before looked quite large suddenly appeared too miniscule even for a rat to squeeze in-between. First passing by the Seventh years, then the sixth; barely giving her own year a glance, she passed straight past them toward a vacant seat in the Third Year section of the table that several third years had been too thunderstruck to close.

Without giving the third years much of a glance, she sat down and looked expectantly at Professor Dumbledore as if to say, Okay, I'm fine, can we eat now?'.

He smiled warmly. Welcome, Miss Rivera, to Hogwarts, and I'm sure you'll have a fine time in Slytherin. The chilling stares Cellie received from the rest of the student body definitely looked as if the opposite of Dumbledore's speech was true. She didn't exactly feel welcome, nor did she really think she'd have a fine time in Slytherin. But, she put on as much of a grin as she could muster up, hearing that little voice in the back of her head reminding her that she could very well be back in California right now, instead of Hogwarts.

A pang struck her, as she glumly noted that Arts High was due to start in a few days. She thought of her friends; of Ally, Max, and James.. Oh, James was the one she'd miss the most. Cellie could always send owls, sure—but she had never been a great letter writer, and she doubted she could just summon up that hidden ability right then and there.

And LACHSA itself—She'd miss that incredibly. Her crazy teachers, the speeches—she'd even miss her french professor, however scary Madame could get.

Just then, Dumbledore interrupted her train of thought by introducing Remus and the other two unfamiliar teachers.

Well, I suppose you are all wondering about the additions to the staff, so I might as well tell you before I get bombarded with cursed hats, Cellie saw Fred Weasley out of the corner of her eye, he was smiling weakly, as if taking admittance for the prank, I assume all of you Third Year and up recognize Professor Lupin— The Professor was interrupted by a large cheer from the Gryffindor table, and Cellie couldn't help but grin herself. Dumbledore nodded, and Cellie couldn't help but see a faint smile on his face as well.

Yes, yes.. now, if anyone is opposed to having a lycanthrope as a teacher, the door is that way. He said, chuckling. No one left, but several of the Slytherins Cellie's age grumbled. Co-teaching with Professor Lupin will be Miss Arabella Figg.

I also suppose, Dumbledore said, That the Slytherins are wondering where their Head of house has gone. I'm saddened to announce that Professor Snape will not be joining us this year, as he is on sabbatical, and Miss Cassandra Woods will be taking his place, both as the Potions teacher for all years, and the Head of Slytherin house. Cellie was one of the few that clapped, but that seemed to alienate her even more from her newfound house, as most of the other Slytherins looked horrified. Cassie stopped clapping quite so vigorously, her shoulders sulking slightly.

Well, I am told that this pretty much covers this year's school topics, but before I dismiss myself and let the wonderful food of the house-elves take over, I must remind everyone of the coming threat on our world. Many would not acknowledge this, but it is, indeed, coming. Choose your side wisely. Now, let's eat.

And food of all shapes and sizes appeared. Cellie had only a moment to ponder the remainder of the Headmaster's speech before hunger overtook her and she grabbed what she could on the table. However, it seemed that most of the more delicious looking foods had already dropped themselves on some of the more menacing students's plates. Cellie grumbled inwardly, but the strained cheery expression didn't leave her face.

Meanwhile, the Third Years were strangely quiet around her. The other parts of the table were avidly talking, but they said nothing at all. Cellie bit her lip, thinking of conversation starters.

So, uh.. Any of you like Styx? Blank expressions. Uhm.. Queen? Even blanker. I'll take that as a no? Stares. Cellie gulped.

Uh.. J.R.R Tolkien? She tried miserably.

Why are you talking about muggle things? A small blonde haired girl asked, rather nastily, in Cellie's opinion. Are you muggleborn?

My parents were a witch and wizard, thanks, Cellie replied angrily. What's it to you, anyhow? Would I be any less worthy, She spat the word worthy as if it were a curse, of Slytherin house if I were? The girl shrunk slightly.

'Tis not as if I care, she said, but most of the others do. Your blood is the first thing they examine in this house. It's pathetic, really. She noticed that the other third years who sat next to the girl tried to slide as much into the fourth year section as they dared. It was obvious that she was a bit of an outcast of the house for her opinions.

Well, I— But the girl cut her off.

Also, you'd best not talk to me, Rivera, unless you want to be waited on.

Cellie said rather loudly, getting several nasty looks in her direction. The girl looked at her maliciously.

Yes, waited. She hissed. Third Years are expressly groomed to wait upon Fifth Years, and if you want to keep your throat, Rivera, you'd best not let this slip among persons of other houses. Her face lightened slightly. That lovely piece of information doesn't come from me, of course, but from the Dragon. She said, like they were discussing how lovely the food tasted, instead of threats on Cellie's life.

Cellie echoed, for the second time (and Cellie was not usually an echoing person, her father had reprimanded her early on that original thoughts were what got you places), much softer than before. The girl took a sip from her goblet, and wordlessly passed one of what looked like to Cellie one of the best chickens to a burly fourth year, who promptly traded that with a scraggly chicken leg which occupied his plate and handed the leg back to the blonde haired girl.

At Cellie's flabbergasted stare, the girl chuckled slightly.

'Tis why we Slytherins sit in sections, She stated softly, All the students at the front of our table grab the worst food, and then trade the youngers for the best. Cellie looked appalled.

But that's awful! She exploded, as quietly as one can explode. Her voice squeaked a bit at awful, making a Ravenclaw to the back of her turn and cluck softly, but said nothing. Why do you stand it? Why not keep your food on your plate? The girl snorted.

And what, have the Dragon's cronies after you before you can blink? I think not, Rivera. Cellie growled softly.

Who the hell's the Dragon? She asked in a sharp tone. The girl raised her index finger slightly, and then pointed it to Cellie's right. She followed the Third Year's finger to the target of her pointing. And her jaw dropped.

She whispered furiously. The girl had pointed to Draco Malfoy. He's this Dragon you're all so worried about? That boy can barely hold his own in a fist fight! The kid shrugged, though a slight smile came to her face.

Ah, so that's where the blue spot came from. And how did you come upon the information that he participated in a fist fight? Cellie held up her fist slightly.

This was the fist that punched the face that looked so scared of me, She recited almost gleefully. For the first time, the slightly sour look on the girl's face disappeared, replaced by something that Cellie couldn't quite see.

She said, almost mystified, I guess outcast status won't be taken from my person as of yet, Rivera.. With a right hook like that you may just get placed on Draco Malfoy's right hand group of followers. Cellie looked Malfoy's way and made the most disgusting of faces possible.

I'd sooner follow him, she said with distaste, than I'd eat griffin dung. The girl's eyebrows raised clear into her bright blonde bangs.

She said with a mix of awe and distaste in her voice. You'd turn down the chance to be adored by the Slytherins? Feared, even?

Anyone who wants to be adored by this bunch is completely.. Cellie bit her lip, thinking of a word. Completely.. Well, something. End of story. And Cellie seemed to close the issue by taking a big bite of the chicken she had on her plate, which, as bad as it looked, was not at all untasty. The Third Year chuckled.

Me mum's right. said the Third Year. Americans are mad.

Of course we are. Cellie said dryly. Why would we want to be mindless slugs, like the English? It was a low blow, even for her, but Cellie was in a particularly bad mood. With that, she stood up and left the hall.



Harry's mouth remained open in stunned horror even after Dumbledore had finished his speech, and delicious food filled the table. Slytherin? But Cellie—she wasn't—that couldn't—

Harry, snap out of it, Ron said bluntly. You look like a drowned fish.

But, Ron— Hermione started to say, but he held a hand up.

Yes, I know. Fish live in water, so how can they drown? One of life's great mysteries. Maybe you'll solve it this year. Ron said, a bit too harshly. He was still a bit hurt, Harry supposed, that Hermione had turned down his invitation to come stay at the Burrow for a few weeks during the summer to keep him company.

Mostly to keep me away from Percy, Ron had told Harry earlier, on the train ride. Fred and George were away then—they were offered summer scholarships at Zonko's—and Ginny, you're great, He said, addressing his sister, who was in the compartment with him, But you're just my sister.

Oh, thanks a bunch, She said, sarcastically. Ron sighed.

It's not like I don't appreciate you, or anything, but I hadn't talked to you or Hermione yet, He said, gesturing to Harry, And I talked to you all the time. Ginny just shrugged, not choosing an emotion, and sat back in her seat next to Harry.

And, I mean, she could've at least told me where she was going, so I could've written her, Ron said. Instead, all she says is: Sorry, I've already made plans. Not like I don't know who she's made plans with, s'probably her and that ruddy Krum! Apparently Ron hadn't forgiven Viktor Krum as much as Harry thought he had. Ginny, right then, however, had spoken very softly.

She didn't go to visit him, She said quietly.

Ron said.

Hermione didn't go to visit Viktor, Ron. Didn't you, the quidditch fan extrodinare, even look? Bulgaria had training all this summer. If she had gone, she would have barely seen him for two days if she had stayed for a month. This seemed to cheer Ron a bit, but he tried not to show it.

Where'd she go off to, then? He asked. Pig never delivered my letters—not that the stupid oaf delivers them normally.. Ginny snickered.

She said, smiling craftily. That was partly my doing. Ron stared at her, flabbergasted.

You? What? He sputtered. Why would you do something like that? Ginny shrugged.

Well, I wasn't supposed to tell you, Hermione wanted to break the news to you herself, but—Oh, well—Ron, Harry, she's— Ron interrupted.

Hurry up, Ginny, we haven't got all day for your muttering. She sneered.

Why should I tell you, if you're going to treat me like that? She said in an innocent tone.

You've been taking lessons from Fred, Ron said stonily.

George, actually. She happily replied. He gave her a lowly look.

Come on, Ginny.. Please? Ron pleaded. She acted like she was thinking about it, then nodded slightly.

Alright, fine. Fred and George weren't the only ones with summer scholarships. She said. Ron frowned.

That's a load of help, he said bitterly. Ginny glared at him, and continued.

Hermione wrote me a week into vacation that she'd been offered a full fledged summer scholarship to Bagott's World Wizarding Library. She explained, an air of awe in her voice. Harry didn't know the name, but from the look on Ron's face, his friend certainly did.

Ron blinked, surprised. The BWWL? Herm— His expressions changed, quick as the boggart in Harry's Third Year. But those scholarships—Ginny, those are only given to Seventh Year students! She nodded.

Yeah, I know! But McGonnagal and Dumbledore both gave her powerful recommendations, and Flitwick too, and well, even though it's just an elementary scholarship, because she's so young, she was still working there all summer, and they want to offer her a job there when she's graduated—well, she asked to not let Pig deliver your letters, because all owl post there is monitored, and all scholars and trainees aren't allowed mail, because— But at that moment, a flustered Hermione burst in. Both Harry, Ron, and Ginny looked up.

Sorry—Can't stay long—prefects— She gasped, obviously out of breath. Harry saw, suddenly, the small silver badge on Hermione's robes.

Wow, Hermione, congratulations! He exclaimed. She blushed a deep crimson, rather reminiscent of Ron.

She said breathlessly. Mum and Dad were really proud when they received my Hogwarts letter, they— But realizing what she had just said, she fell silent.

It's okay, Hermione, we know, said Ron. She blinked.

You do? She said, oddly, and looked towards Ginny. Oh, Ginny, you didn't.. Ron's sister smiled sheepishly.

Only just now, Hermione.. I'm sorry.. She said earnestly. Hermione smiled, slightly. It was obvious that she wasn't really mad at Ginny. However, now that the truth had come out, there was an awkward silence in the compartment.

Well, er, congratulations on that too, Hermione.. Harry said at last. The, uh, BWWL is lucky to have you. In truth, Harry hadn't a clue what the BWWL was, other than a library, but he assumed that it was some kind of honor for Hermione to receive a summer scholarship there. Hermione blushed again.

Yes, well, it was quite unexpected, really.. She explained, trying vainly not to sound incredibly excited about the whole thing. Just then, Ron spoke up.

So, what did you do there? He asked quietly. This seemed to be exactly the question Hermione wanted to answer, for she went on and on about the books she had discovered, and the thesis the BWWL Head, Miss Peters, had her write, and what a fantabulous Head she was.. Harry tried to listen attentively for the first ten minutes, but there wasn't much of interest in hearing about how wonderful a library really was, even if it was the biggest in the wizarding world.

He could tell that Ron was close to dozing off as well, and looked ass if he was quite sorry to have asked. Ginny seemed interested, though, so Hermione continued telling about her adventures with the BWWL until the Hogwarts Express blew a warning whistle. She stopped midsentence with a noise, and smiled sheepishly.

Oh! Sorry, but I must be getting to the Prefect's Compartment.. I'll try and visit later. And with that, Hermione was gone. Harry and Ron looked at each other, mystified.

You know, Harry, Ron said slowly, I do think we shan't mention the BWWL around Hermione this year. Harry nodded silently in agreement. Ginny, who had taken out her diary (a plain muggle one with a locking charm she had her mother teach her), giggled softly.

You both are too funny, She said. If you didn't want to know about it, why did you ask? Ron rolled his eyes at Ginny.

Why did you ask? Honestly, sometimes I wonder why we let you sit with us, Ginny. Ron said, feigning frustration. A knock came on the door and Neville Longbottom opened the compartment door cautiously.

D'you mind if I sit with you all? Neville said. All the other compartments are full. Ron shrugged, and beckoned for Neville to come in.

Because of Neville and Ginny's presence, and Hermione's lack of one, Harry never really got around to telling Ron about James and Cellie. A bit too late, now, Harry supposed, bringing himself back into the Grand Hall, because Ron was looking at Cellie with disgust.

He growled. How can an American—a Rivera, no less—show their face in this school?

How do you know if she's so bad? Harry asked. Ron gave him an annoyed look

Oh, sorry.. I forgot you don't know much about Wizarding politics. replied Ron. Harry frowned.

What do you mean? He asked. Hermione cut in.

Well, Harry, in the mid-ninteenth century, during Grindlewald's rule, English wizards were being attacked by him, and slaughtered by the thousands. But in America, the Wizard Samuel Duncan thought that he had a way to overpower Grindlewald once and for all. Ron nodded.

Yeah, see, Duncan was a whachamacallit—a Fiesist—

Physicist, Ron, Hermione corrected. Ron rolled his eyes.

Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyway, a Physicist's job is to mess around with seeance—

Science, Ron! Honestly, maybe I should tell this part. Hermione replied, looking annoyed. Harry would've chuckled, but his friends looked deadly serious.

Alright, fine. You tell it. Ron said, in a huff. Hermione cleared her throat.

Anyhow, Mr. Duncan worked on the Manhattan Project—the atomic bomb, and such—

Atomic bomb? Ron asked, cluelessly. This time it was Hermione who rolled her eyes.

You know, you really should sign up for muggle studies, Ron. The atomic bomb has enough nuclear power to basically destroy a city and its occupants, and would desecrate the land it was dropped on for years to come. Ron's jaw dropped.

He said simply. I knew that.

Hermione said crisply. Now, then, Mr. Duncan had ideas about mixing magic with science, and he ended up creating something called Duncan's Hand. It was magicked so whatever it touched, instantly was poisoned with radioactive nuclear materials. So they sent Duncan to personally deliver it to the current English Minister of Magic. Now, Ron cut in.

And, you see, well—Harry, the American Minister was a traitor.

What do you mean? He asked, cautiously. Ron frowned, a grave tone to his voice.

I mean, Harry, that American Minister was supposed to have picked a secure spot to perform the drop off—the English Minister himself came—and Grindlewald, Ron said with a deadly aura, He was waiting for them! He murdered Duncan on the spot, and stole the Hand. Then.. Ron took a shuddered breath. He touched the Minister with the Hand. He was dead almost immediately, but Grindlewald didn't stop there. He invaded Diagon Alley and waved the Hand over it, and many, many people were murdered. Hermione nodded, and her face was tense.

The Diagon Alley Massacre, that was, She said, softly. of 1939.

Did.. Did they catch the American Minister? Harry asked, the look on his face horrified. Ron shook his head.

He whispered, They didn't. Hermione looked down at her food, as if she was withholding something.

Hermione, what is it? Harry asked. She looked up, and her face was shaking with anger.

I just.. She started, but took a moment to take a breath. I just don't see how he could have done it.

Harry asked.

The Minister. He wasn't originally American, you know. He attended Hogwarts. Ron nodded, shooting another horrible glance Cellie's way.

They never could find the rotten sneak, said Ron, Though many people thought he went up to Canada. Godric damn him, Felix Rivera.


A/N: Cellie's statements about the following History Lesson' given in this chapter:

1: Cassie and Lizzie grew up in the mid-Twenties/Thirties.
2: In my story, Grindlewald was around about the same time as WWII was taking place. I don't know if that's where JK has him or not, because she never really said.
3: I have no honest idea if someone named Samuel Duncan worked on the Manhattan Project or not.
4: If indeed, he did, I dunno if he's a wizard or not either.
5: Unlike Mr. Duncan, I am not a nuclear Physicist, nor do I know much about WWII or atomic bombs. So, if I unknowingly described a H-Bomb in place of an A-Bomb, or something, feel free to whack me with a wet fish and correct me.
6: Cellie's family sucks, doesn't it? -_-;

Peacockgirl: The sorting hat's gone a bit.. strange, though you won't find out what's wrong with it for at least another twenty chapters..

WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Eheh.. Yeah. But it was kind of impossible to put her in Gryffindor..

Moselle: ^_^; Yeah, I know, I'm horribly mean. The sorting hat has something odd going on with it, though, as I told Peacockgirl, you won't find out why for awhile.. You don't really have to read 1-20 again if you don't want to.. nothing important to the plot's changed, just a lot of the scripting. The chapters most important to pro'lly reread would be 1-4, 10, and 18.

WhetherRose: *nods* Well, I need to put poor James in somewhere! Jeez, he used to be the star of the story, and all the plot lines have shifted. ^_^; Well, boys will be boys, and besides, if you haven't seen your best friend for two months, what would you do? Malfoy gets enough torture in this story for you to be happy, believe me.. *nods* I don't know, originally I just wanted Cellie in Slytherin, but my horizions broadened a bit.. And there was this annoying little plot bunny.. ;P I won't tell one way or the other if Cellie stays or gets out.. that's completely up to my mind, which is as of yet undecided. I'm glad someone commented on that scene.. The poor Patil twins get shoved off in almost every story, so I wanted to show a bit more human side to them than in the books.. You'll definitely see more of Padma, just not for awhile..

Tarawyn: Hee.. The Silmarillion should be placed in every person's home in the world with an order to read it, or face death by Sauron. ^_^; One other thing to keep the Slytherins from bothering her too much is her name, as you'll find out in this chapter.. Oh, I have quite the scene planned out in my head involving house ties, but you're going to have to wait until chapter Thirty or so.. Rivers was just an error the hat made. It almost didn't want to hear correctly that a Rivera was back at the school..

Marauder chick: ROFL, Cellie's anything but a preppy popular kid.. in fact, she'll earn near outcast status very soon. I don't think that many students at Hogwarts were severely afraid of Remus after they found out, just their parents. After all, the Remus in class they know would never hurt anyone, so.. lol, probably, knowing Ron. Hermione appears in this chapter, and yes, she was in the Prefect's cabin.

Emory: Well, thanks very much ^_^ I'm glad you like them..