A/N: Blah Blah Blah.. Not much to say.

- 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. The concept of Annie being Sirius's squib/muggle twin sister belongs to Kaydi. Annie's personality, however, belongs to me.

Chapter Twenty Three
Outcast


Harry exclaimed, lost for words. Cellie's not like that! Ron looked at him strangely.

How would you know? He asked, puzzled. Hermione nodded her agreement.

You see— But just as Harry was about to voice his next word, Cellie jumped up from the Slytherin table and walked away coldly.

I'll tell you later, Harry muttered, about to get up to follow. Hermione, however, grabbed ahold of his arm.

Harry, don't! She whispered, so that Ron couldn't hear her. Don't leave now. After all that rubbish printed about you in the paper, the last thing you need to be seen doing is going after a Rivera.

What rubb— Harry started, but Hermione cut him off.

Just trust me. She'll be alright. I'll find her after dinner if you really want. Hermione seemed to be in a brighter mood about Cellie than Ron was, so Harry took her word for it, and lowered himself back in his seat.

Ron asked. Come on, what were you going to tell us? Harry's shoulders sagged. He couldn't effectively argue with Ron about how Cellie was probably not at all like the former American Minister in the Great Hall without attracting attention, which Harry absolutely didn't want.

It's about this summer, He said in a low tone, But I can't explain here, there's too many people. Ron seemed to accept this explanation.

Tell us in the Commons? He asked, quietly. Harry nodded.





Cellie fumed as she shut the Great Hall doors firmly behind her. Let the teachers come, she thought. Currently her anger was enough to probably blow up the castle, so a few teachers wouldn't bother her.

She wasn't exactly sure why she was so angry, except the tone that the Third Year had used to speak to her.. it was like the girl had feared her, because of her stupid name.. What did her ancestry do?

Cellie walked over to the base stairway, and past it to a small nook bathed in shadow. It was there she collapsed, her hands over her face.

This wasn't supposed to happen, She whispered softly to herself. I'm supposed to be in Gryffindor.. I'm supposed to be meeting Harry's friends right now, and eating a feast, not in this dusty corner.. She sniffed, and leaned back further into the nook.

Come on, Cells, She told herself. You're supposed to be the strong one, member? So what if that stupid hat has a personality problem? Make the best of it. You're at Hogwarts. You're finally away from your dad. However, this didn't serve to cheer her up. She wiped her eyes, and got up.

Goddamn castle. She said, and kicked at the small nook. Goddamn Slytherin. Another kick. Goddamn hat. Kick. Goddamn emotions. This time, when she kicked, she felt her foot go all the way through.

What the.. But Cellie didn't get to finish, as she fell straight through the wall.



Cellie moaned, rubbing her head. Stupid! How many times had James and Sirius told her that this school had passages everywhere? Kicking something was sure to bring her to a passage, or..

Her thought trailed off as she opened her eyes, and stared. In front of her was a roaring fire, surrounded by lounge couches. She could make out a table made entirely of glass, sitting by the fire, with several books and what could only be a wizard's chess set on it.

Looking to the left, she saw a broom closet, and many shelves surrounding what looked like a giant cauldron. On the shelves, many different vials stood, and closer to the fire there were several larger packages.

Cellie shrugged, and her eyes strayed to the right side of the room, which had two sets of bunks against its wall. Each had the lavish blankets she had seen house elves washing one time when James had taken her and Harry down to the basement of Hogwarts, and several huge throw pillows. Over each set of bunks, there were inscriptions. Cellie squinted, and her jaw dropped when she read what was written over each bunk.

Moony and Wormtail ------- Prongs and Padfoot

And, as she looked straight up, she saw scripted on the entrance rafter:

The Hollow

She began. Suddenly, she noticed a lump under one of the covers. And it was moving.

Oh, hell.. She breathed. Oh, bloody hell.. She got up quickly, backing into the wood of what she assumed was the door. Cellie reached for the handle and pulled—falling again backwards into some sort of pit.

Please state your destination. A voice rang out.

Wh.. What? Cellie asked dumbly.

Destination. What would you call it, Sirius? Her eyes widened as she realized she was on a rafter of such size that it would fit comfortably in the Great Hall. Only, it had seats. She got up shakily and sat in one, as she heard a new voice's response.

Er.. Place, Moony? You know, like the Gryffindor Commons? Cellie froze. The first voice was not entirely recognizable, but the second sounded very much like her uncle, her age.

This is not happening, She said under her breath.

Eh, what was that? Sorry, didn't catch it.

 Cellie pondered. She got that she had probably stumbled into the wrong door, which probably held this.. device. The way the voice she couldn't identify was carrying on, she assumed it was an elevator of sorts.

Anywhere in the castle? She asked.

I assume that's not a destination, so I'll take it as a question. Yes, anywhere in the castle, passworded or no.

Uh.. Slytherin Commons. She said hurriedly.

Yes, Ma'am. And the rafter jolted. Cellie held on for dear life as it zinged upwards, sideways, and back. After what seemed like an eternity, it halted.

Slytherin Commons. If this is Sirius, I suggest that you check and make sure you actually have your prank materials, for once. Cellie muffled a laugh, before getting creeped out again. She looked at the solid wall in front of her, and frowned.

If you've forgotten, the password's dissendium. The voice said.

Cellie said, simply. The wall didn't move.

With your wand, Peter.. said Sirius's voice. Cellie's eyes flashed.

I knew that, She snapped. And I'm not Peter. She took her wand out, and said the word. Magically, the bricks peeled away in a similar fashion as Diagon Alley's entrance, revealing several burning torches in a room furnished in silver and emerald. It was lushly carpeted, but other than that, the room seemed damp.

People have decent conversations in here? She asked, shivering. It's practically the temperature of a Nova Scotian winter!

I don't know where Nova Scotia is, but I'm afraid I'll have to agree with you. A voice said from behind her. Cellie whirled around, and came face to face with the black haired teacher from the Great Hall.

She stuttered. The teacher smiled. I wouldn't have wanted to stay there either. Big crowds aren't my thing. Cellie managed a small smile.

They don't mind? She asked, of course, meaning Dumbledore.

Nah. Professor Dumbledore seemed to have sensed something was wrong. The raven-haired woman said. So he sent me down here to find you. Though I do wonder how you got the password. Cellie looked at the floor.

I.. uhm.. She mumbled. Revealing that she had found a hideout of the Marauders was not an option. However, the Potions professor just smiled.

I figured as much. You went galavanting with Padfoot earlier this summer, didn't you? Cellie nodded meekly. So the professor knew him?

Almost as if in answer to her thought, the professor nodded. I'm.. eh.. an acquaintance of Sirius's. I'm Cassie, by the way. Professor Woods. Though, she rolled her eyes playfully at the name professor. Cellie grinned. At least she didn't have to worry about Snape, and Cassie seemed half decent, for a professor.

Here's your schedule, Cassie said, handing her a strip of faded parchment, And something from Si—er, your uncle. Don't ask me what it is, She told Cellie firmly. I honestly don't have a clue, anyway.

Said Cellie gratefully. Cassie waved it off.

Ah, twas no worry, Celestia. She said, cheerfully.

Cellie. Not Celestia. Cassie seemed mildly surprised, but shrugged it off.

Well, then, Cellie, your dorm is up there.. She pointed to the winding staircase on the left. Dorm Five, I think.. your trunk and possessions will be there. Cassie gave her a warm smile. And don't be daunted by your schedule. It's only for a couple of weeks. Now, I better be going. And Cassie left through the small dungeon door, leaving a befuddled Cellie behind. What was only for a couple of weeks?

She looked down at her schedule, and her eyebrows raised. For every day, it read:


Tutoring - See Professor Dumbledore during first class, 9/2, for more instructions

Lunch

Flying: 1st Year CMB Gryff/Slyth - Quidditch Field - Mme. Hooch

Occasionally, Flying was replaced by Divination, or Care Of Magical Creatures, but tutoring was five days a week.

Is there anything else to make me more of an outcast? She asked, frustrated, to the empty Commons. Upon getting no answer, she trudged herself up to bed. Not that she'd get much sleep.




Harry waited. The Commons were silent, except for Hermione's cat Crookshanks's purring in a lounge chair, one eye open, and the crackling of the dying fire. The rest of dinner had gone without incident, with the exception of the new Potion Professor's exit and entrance. No one really noticed that, though. After all, what was so interesting about a professor leaving dinner for a few moments?

Suddenly, he heard a creak. Nonchalantly, Harry dropped a single slip of paper on the floor. He reached down to get it and casually looked behind him as he picked it up. Ron and Hermione were creeping down the stairs, Hermione looking frazzled. Harry turned, and motioned for them to come down.

I don't see why we have to try and get expelled our first day, Harry, Hermione said irritably. Ron shoved an elbow in her direction as they both reached the bottom, and walked over to Harry.

He asked, excited. What is it? Harry shifted uncomfortably. Now that he had thought it over, he had to wonder what they would say if he just outright told them his dad was back. Remembering the look Hermione had given him the last time he'd mentioned his dad, he gulped.

Well.. Trust me, alright? They nodded, mystified looks on their faces. And he told them. Harry, against his defensive nature for his friend, left out any mentions of Cellie. At the end, both were looking mildly skeptical.

It's not that we don't believe you, Harry, Hermione said carefully.

It's that you think I hit my head a bit too hard somewhere, right? He challenged. Now Ron was looking uncomfortable.

Well, if we had some proof.. Ron said slowly. Harry's eyes lit up.

Well, if you can wait until tomorrow.. He said, I know where James is staying. We'll go before breakfast.



James and Sirius sat across from each other, Sirius on his own four poster, and James on Arabella's.

Where in the bloody name of Gryffindor is she? Sirius thundered, abruptly. I'll meet you for dinner tonight, Sirius; I'll only be a moment, Sirius; I've got to run down to the bloody Great Hall to see Dumbledore, Sirius.. He said, mimicking Arabella to perfection.

Maybe she got caught up in her work? James suggested, half heartedly. Sirius glared at his friend.

She's been bloody WORKING all summer. I haven't seen her for more than ten minutes at a time, and even then, we don't talk. So, I finally get to schedule a dinner date with her, and she says she'll be ONE bloody moment, and she's been gone for two hours. Sirius growled. The little Cirrus who was previously eating the remainders of a Cream Tart on the bureau next to his four poster fluttered over, looking at its owner strangely.

Its voice fluttered. Sirius gave the kitten a half smile.

I'm not yelling at you, Leo.. He said kindly, and the kitten let out a loud purr before settling itself down onto Sirius's lap. James raised an eyebrow.

.. Leo? He asked oddly. That wouldn't have anything to do with the time we tried to— Sirius glared at him.

Remember that rule about sixth year, James? He asked apprehensively.

Why do I bother.. James said, and dropped back against the huge body pillow Arabella had on her bed. Look, Padfoot, Arabella probably just had to get something. Mayhaps she's—oh. He sat up abruptly.

Sirius asked. Oh, what? James simply pointed to the large wall calendar.

So? What's the date got to do with anything?

It's the first of September, Sirius. As in, Hogwarts is officially open for business. Sirius groaned.

He muttered. Just what I need. James took the moment of silence to flick a pesky black fly off his arm.

Harry.. He's in Gryffindor, right? James asked, out of the blue. Sirius nodded.

Yes, James, I've only told you this about a million times.

You suppose Cellie will be put there? Sirius's face broke into a smile.

I say we should find out, Prongs. I doubt our lovely lift system has gone to disarray in the nineteen years we've been absent from the castle.. Sirius walked over to the fireplace, and muttered, Dissendium Padfoot. Instantly, the fireplace vanished. In its place was a long slate of wood with two chairs in it. Sirius eagerly took one, and James got up and took the other.

Well, the shouting charm still works, James commented to Sirius. You suppose any of our other suprises have been triggered yet? Sirius raised an eyebrow.

You mean—oh, nah, I don't think so. The Hollow can only be accessed by fellow pranksters, or members of our bloodline, and neither have become skilled enough in the castle as of yet to find THAT place, though those Weasley twins have come pretty close. James nodded, slightly. From what Cellie had told him of George and Fred, they were becoming very close to the level of the Marauders indeed.

The Great Hall. James said, clearly, and then as an afterthought: Sirius blinked.

Why unseen? He asked, and then in turn, answered his own question. Because there's a thousand odd kids that think I'm a murderer and you're dead. Point.

Yes, very much a point. James said amiably. I don't think it would do much good to have Sirius Black and James Potter appear in the middle of the Great Hall, especially at the opening feast. Sirius grinned evilly.

It would make an excellent prank, though.. He replied, his eyes getting a misty look. James rolled his eyes as the lift suddenly jerked sideways, and started to zoom back up.

Snape isn't here, Sirius, and you know that's who you meant it for. Sirius made a face.

Oh, yes, Snapey has gone back to the Death Eaters. Joy. I should have asked Dumbledore if Snape could pick up a certain rat, while he was there.. James looked at his friend, and was suprised. Sirius's face had hardened, and a deep hatred, more than he had ever shown for Snape, was emblazoned on it.

James started. Did you.. I mean, Peter.. Did you ask him why? Why he did it? The convict shot James a death look.

Did I ask him WHY? He exploded. What's there to bloody ask? Peter did this for power, James, he did it because he was tired of never standing out. He did it because he was a bloody COWARD, James. That's why. Sirius was practically shaking in his seat, and James had never seen him any more angry than he was right now.

Many things flooded James's brain at that moment, but what he said was not at all what he had meant to. You're mad at him.

Sirius looked at James like he had gone mad, and didn't speak for several seconds. When he did, it came out in a croak.

He put me in Azkaban, James. He killed you. He killed Lily. He desecrated Remus's name. Why shouldn't I be mad with him?

Because he's Peter, Sirius. Underneath what he did, he's still our friend. Sirius gave James the oddest look he'd ever seen.

I don't see how you can say that. Sirius said, shuddering. You know what he did, you know how he betrayed us all, and you have the nerve to say that he's still our friend. Jesus, James, he— James held up a hand.

He may have been a traitor, a skive, a wretch, and someone you would kill without a second thought, but he's still in some part, Peter. Sirius frowned.

James, you don't know him now. You remember Peter from our Seventh Year; sweet, innocent Peter, the Peter we'd all give our lives for. But don't dare to assume that the Peter that I know now has any traces of our old friend left in him. I told you how he cut Harry? How he sliced his arm and used the blood to revive Voldemort? James nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Well, his revivation. It needed one more thing. A bodily part from a willing servant. WILLING, James. Completely and utterly. Peter gave him his hand, James. Whatever shred of dignity was left in Peter, he gave it away that night.

James said softly, and the formings of a plan sparked in his eyes. You said that Peter gave Voldemort his hand? Sirius nodded.

Then.. Sirius, does Dumbledore know this? James asked excitably. Sirius nodded, weakly.

But, why— James turned his head to Sirius, as the platform arrived at a wall. On the outside, this wall held quite a large picture, filled with dancing and singing townsfolk. What no one in the castle, save the Marauders knew, was that four of the townsfolk had no eyes anymore.

Don't you see, Sirius? James exclaimed. If Peter gave his hand as the sign of a willing servant, that means Voldemort is indebted to him. Sirius gave James a funny look.

Yes, I realized that, James. So what? James grinned.

If the servant becomes unwilling, it could cause certain.. complications. Sirius's gaze deepened, but his eyes shown with slight understanding.

The.. The blood rites book, right? Sirius asked slowly. James nodded.

When we all took the blood oaths of friendship, there was a warning at the bottom. A faint smile appeared on Sirius's face.

Something about the rite being rendered useless, should one of the members ever defect completely away by doing a horrifying act.. Sirius's eyes lit up. And THAT's why Remus couldn't understand my thoughts, after Peter.. He naturally assumed I had been the one to break the circle, but.. James. Do you realize what this means? James nodded.

We need to get Peter back to the side of good. Suddenly, Sirius let out a yell of surprise. He had stood up and was looking through one of the sets of eyes that had been hollowed out.

Arabella's a PROFESSOR?!



A/N: And the plot bunnies fall into place. Betcha never saw THAT one coming.. I dunno, originally this conversation was just so James would have something to do (He used to be the main character of this fanfiction, and now I've sort of been shoving him aside -_-;), but while I was typing, this came, and I can't resist a challenge (which turning Peter (while keeping Sirius from gutting him) will be), and besides, it gets me away from the whole Harry Potter will be the savior of the world, he will defeat Voldemort again and everybody will live happily ever after plot range that I despise. Besides, now Sirius and James have been reinstated as main characters of the story, and that's always good.. Don't expect them to go after Peter for some time.. Or even remember about the idea until later.


ra-chan: Hm, hazing.. Nah, I don't suppose so. Malfoy might give her a bit of a hard time, but.. I don't like Ren's french teacher (Cellie, as I've now come to realize, is based quite a bit on Ren. Or, at least, Cellie's school life is. Otherwise, I wouldn't know who half of the teachers are in that dammed school.. x_x) that much either, but I suppose she'd miss her some.. Not a lot, though. :p That line could actually go either way. The way I put it, I was using it as a comparison, basically saying Following him would be like eating griffin dung. The other way around is more of a Point Blank statement. Either's correct, though. Well, maybe not exactly twenty chapters.. I'm really not sure how long this story will really be. After all, we're 23 chapters in, and Cellie hasn't even finished her first real day at Hogwarts yet. XD But expect the chapters to move a bit swifter after school starts, though. Nope, no library review, far as I can see.. ;P


WhetherRose: Yeah, I wanted to write about Ron and Harry, and slowly (as the Rivera family got weirder in my head) I realized that Harry couldn't tell Ron about Cellie before he found out who she was at the Sorting Ceremony (I don't know why, but there's a strong instinct in my gut saying Do NOT make Ron and Cellie friends, at least for now), so I covered all of that with Herm, and everything. x_x; I'm debating how Harry and Cellie are going to stay friends.. They are, believe me, but I still have to figure some things out.. The Snitching, for instance (but that's for a later chapter, and you aren't supposed to know about that.. :P) Not all Riveras are evil, that's true, but I don't know if Cellie'll be the one to show it.. She's a pretty bad prankster. : I really should write a Grindlewald fanfic, shouldn't I? There aren't really any on FF.net that I've seen—plenty of Tom as a kid fics, but no Grindlewald ones.

Shinigami: Yes, poor Cellie indeed.. I'm toying around with the idea of letting her be resorted, but I dunno.. and even if I do, don't be so sure she'll be in Gryffindor. ;P

Moselle: As I said to ra-chan, not exactly twenty.. I'm supposing that Dewdrops will be around 34, mayhaps 36. And then, of course, there's going to be a sequel to that, as well.. I have much in store for this timeline.. Glad you liked the line! ^_^;