Potters through time
Chapter five: Ongoings, part 2
Remus Potter led the small party, consisted of his older brother, his would-be grandfather, his adoptive uncle after whom he was named, the boy that would grow to betray his closest friends, serve devotedly to the most vile thing the world had ever encountered, and ultimately, to deliver the victory on silver platter to the side of light and sacrifice himself so Remus' father could finish the dreadful war once and for all; and finally the last, but not the least, the legendary, indestructible, Sirius Black, well, at least indestructible in spirit.
The Marauders had to admire the skill with which the pair of young timetravelers scaled the castle. Not once had the two of them been caught off guard, and they managed to evade every ghost, hide from every professor, and warn James and Remus Lupin of every sneaking attempt of the students, with uncanny proficiency. Their knowledge of the passages, and shortcuts however, was nothing short of miraculous. They led the confounded Marauders thru no less than three passages of which's existence the senior members of their little party had not even the faintest idea of.
And then, they arrived to their destination. The familiar tapestry of Barnabas the Bramby (sp?), aviated them. Instead of making the usual three passages, however, Remus and James simply approached the third troll on the right, and took turns to whisper something on it's ear. The troll, rather regrettably, moved aside, to revel a small niche. Without a blink, Remus plunged his hand into the niche, and several moments later, the door to the room of requirements appeared.
With a lopsided smirk at the astonishment of marauders, he made a small bow to his brother and asked in mocked courtesy:
"Would you wish to do the honors?"
The quality of James' ability to act oftentimes surprised Remus, and his love for making acts in mostly every situation severely irked him; this one time, however, he greeted it vehemently.
"Thou are most kind, young one. I would be honored beyond merit to do so." He answered in perfect middle English court accent.
Then he turned to the four, already shocked, youths, and with a grin as wide as quidditch pitch, pronounced officially.
"Gentlemen, welcome to our humble abode." Before he dramatically swung open the door. The first thing that came to anyone's mind, when encountered by that particular room, would be cozy. Actually, it was so cozy that it should've been illegal. Thy myriad of colors, instead of being offensive, and kitsch, was ingeniously matched, and set up, so it pleased the eye effortlessly, and eased the mind simply by it's presence. There was something about it that, in some mysterious, inexplainable way, forced everyone into leisure behavior.
Dominating the wall above the fireplace, was a large, scarlet curtain. By James' off hand comment about the nice touch, when he looked at it, there was indication that usually it wasn't there.
The two of them almost had to drag the completely breathless Marauders inside. Finding seats for everyone was not a problem at all, since multitude of soft, plush chairs were scattered throughout the spacious chamber, not to mention the three comfortable sofas, and at least two dozens of large, soft sitting-pillows.
While they nearly forced the Marauders into the chairs and sofa, the two young Potters, however remained standing. They gave the four ample time to come over their shock, before they began. Or rather, before Remus began, since, more or less, all James was doing was offering some kind of symbolic support, by standing next to his brother, while the later did all the talking.
"Before any of you asks. Yes, this place is real. It is a recreation of the den, back home." He made a pause there, so to let them digest the info, before he continued. "I think that the easiest way to answer most of the questions asked back in that dungeon chamber, is to show you, and since I don't believe in all that, step by step nonsense, I present you, our family." As if on cue, which it probably was, come to think of it, the curtain separated and moved to each side, reveling quite large family portrait beneath it.
The portrait presented a bespectacled man of some thirty years with messy, jet black hair, and sparkling emerald eyes, sitting upon the couch in exact replica of that same chamber, although it was the other way around, next to red-haired woman of about the same age, with warm chocolate brown eyes. Upon their collective lap, there were five little children of about five or so. Two barely older were sitting in front of that couch and playing. Sprawled on the back of the sofa was a short, black haired girl of nine or ten. Of to the left were two nearly completely identical boys, holding a red haired girl upon their shoulders. Of to the right was a small mountain of a blond, serious boy. And upon the ceiling perched in a sofa, that mirrored the one with their parents and younger sisters and brothers, were the quads, some three years younger, and gravitation, apparently, had no effect upon them.
Before the senior occupants of the chamber had even the slightest time to take in what they were seeing, The younger Potter brother started to make the introductions.
"Since you gents are already acquainted with the four of us, it seems pointless to begin with the oldest, so I'll reverse the order and begin with the muffins…" His brother collapsed back on sofa at that particular title. "… or better known as the Quintets. Those would be the five on mum's and dad's lap. Starting from right to left, the first would be Leo. As you've probably already deducted, it is shorten form of Leonel, and he seams to have grabbed a bucketful from Grandmother's part of gene-pool. His female counterpart is Loren and the tiny one next to her with black hair is our little Jenny. I swear, Jennifer is the sweetest kid to ever grace this world. The little red haired imp would be Denny, or Denzel. You know, you four should be really proud of him, even now he already shows a mischievous streak, six miles wide. And the final one is Riana, and yes, she is a girl, albeit short-cropped hair and scraped knees and elbows. The DIS-identical twins that are playing in front of the couch are Brian and Connor. Bri, the red haired one is older, but Con is the grouchy wry cynic. Than, the kind milady, that looks like feminine image of dad, that is, oh, so graciously, sprawled upon the sofa back would be Samantha, Sammy for short. The only one of us without a twin. She is also the only person that I know of that could stare down a giant, and send him to clean up his cave. That is not a metaphor. She really did that. The giant was semi civilized, but still… You get my point. And, to complete upon the potter spawn would be the triplets. Our easy-go-lucky, flirt of a sister Amanda, and her two twins, who are, rather unfortunately completely missed the point of having any rationality within them, resulting in them being incapable of thinking about anything but quidditch, food, quidditch, girls, quidditch, and did I happen to mention quidditch?"
Speaking in harsh, serious tone, his older brother reprimanded him.
"That was completely out of the line!"
Remus had cast one look upon his frowning face, and then broke out in howls of laughter, James not far off behind him.
Sirius, Remus and Peter regarded the two writhing figures on the floor with unconcealed confusion and fascination. James, on the other hand rose up from his sitting position, and, in shaky steps approached the portrait. More by instinct, than any kind of purpose he lightly put fingers upon the image of his would be son. He stood there, lost in his own, personal universe, while his future grand-sons were rolling all over the floor in gales of laughter, and his best mates observed his forementioned grandsons' wacky antics.
And then, as his eyes flew all over the painting, absorbing all of the faces, one face stuck his mind. The blocky, serious, blond boy of to the side of the couch. He turned to his grandsons with a frown upon his usually cheerful face.
"You said that you have finished with introducing us with your siblings? Than, who is the large boy of to the side?"
It took Remus additional half a minute to shake off the laughter enough to respond to his grandfather.
"I was getting to that, before this buffoon…" at that point he nudged his, still recovering, brother, with his foot "… Had sent me into laughing marathon. That baby giant of a boy would be our cousin, Clinton. Dad had saved him from his parents, dad's first cousin by mother's side and his wife, who absolutely despise magic, before Clint was even a year old. Ever since, Clint is living with us. He is our brother by all but blood. And house. The chap had to be dreadfully intelligent, logical, and rational and end up in Ravenclaw. Still, we managed to corrupt him somewhat…"
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Albus Dumbledore was a man with great many years of experience. He had seen much, heard much, felt much, and lived thru entirely too much to be easily caught off guard. Few believed that there was anything that could surprise him any more.
That made the presence of the boy in his office, as well as the boys story quite noteworthy. But what even more surprised the great wizard was boy's attitude about the whole matter. Most normal boys his age would be confused, and at least a bit disconcerted. The boy, who claimed his name was Sirius Potter, was patient, fluent, passive, and a bit tired. His face didn't abandon the business like expression during his complete narrative. In short, Dumbledore got the feeling that the sole reason for this visit, was to tell him: We're her by accident, we know the rules, and don't get in our way, we'll figure a way back for ourselves.
Sirius had finished his tale, rose from the chair he had freely taken during the exchange with the older wizard, and made a curt nod. And, without waiting, he abandoned the headmaster's office.
All Dumbledore could manage after the boy had left was a single, perturbed: "Peculiar."
As if responding to his companion's anxiousness, the phoenix chirped a few divine melodies. The last one had a distinct feel of inquisitiveness.
"Strangely, Fawkes, but I find myself believing him word for word as well…"
Lily Evans, a headgirl, and a star pupil, found herself at an unwanted puzzle. Like with all puzzles, her mind, both conscious and subconscious parts would simply not give her any peace until the puzzle was solved. The sole problem was that the said puzzle was one James Potter, a conceited and troublesome, albeit highly intelligent and charming boy. She did find him rather attractive, but his arrogance and bulling made her nearly despise him. At least as much as it would be possible to despise James Potter, and not turn it into religion like one Severus Snape did.
And now, he was also a headboy to her own headgirl. It severely complicated matter, and in some ways, also made things much more simple. He seemed to take his new responsibilities seriously, which was highly unusual for him, and that change troubled her.
When she finally couldn't take it anymore, she decided to do an impromptu patrol of the towers. It was highly improbable that she would find anyone there on the first night of the year, and the view would help her collect her thoughts.
Yet, as fortune would have it, from the top of the very first tower that she decided to visit, subdued sobs and weeps were heard. A distinctive sounds of someone crying.
Not stopping even to consider alternatives, she rushed up the remaining stairs to the chamber to find a form of an unknown girl crumpled against one of the walls. Instinctively, she gathered the sobbing girl into her arms and tried to comfort her. While her mouth murmured soft comforts, her subconciousnes marked down 'another puzzle that needs to be solved'.