Disclaimer: I own nothing; it all belongs to J.K.Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

CHAPTER NINE

"A muggle place?" James asked incredulously. "The goblins hold their High Council poker game in a muggle place?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know Prongs, you should say that a bit louder. I think there's a nice couple a few blocks away who couldn't hear you."

"Sorry," James blushed as he followed Harry and Sirius in a door and then up a staircase.

"Why is it here?" Sirius asked, observing the dirty stairwell curiously.

"The bank below is one of their muggle branches, and it has two conference rooms. One the muggles running the bank know about, and another that's for the goblins." Harry explained. "Besides, the good TV is here."

"The goblins watch TV?" James questioned.

Harry just looked at his father curiously and knocked on the door four times in a short-short-long-short pattern.

A small window slid open and a gravelly voice on the other side rasped out, "Password?"

"Oh cripes, are you doing this again?" Harry whined.

"Password!" the voice insisted.

Harry nodded to his father and godfather. "You guys too, I'm sure." He turned towards the door and intoned, "I swear on my magic I will not cheat tonight." Harry flickered briefly in a swirl of magic and grumbled. "You can bet your arse I'm going to lie a lot though."

James and Sirius repeated the pledge and promise to not cheat.

There was a grinding sound of a metal sliding and the door swung open. "Harry!" the goblin on the other side cheerfully smiled. "Always a pleasure."

"Evening Claptrap," Harry said with a rueful smile. Harry addresseed the half dozen goblins in the room. "Gentlemen, I'm not sure if any of you remember these two jokers with me, but I would like you to meet Prongs and Padfoot."

Sirius and James waved weakly, when a particularly irate looking goblin waddled right up to Sirius and yelled, "How dare you! I am a goblin elder! I deserve the respect that I have earned. And you, you, you wizard! You come here knowingly in front of me, in front of us, and you wear purple! No! This cannot go unpunished. Guards!"

Sirius looked down at his shirt. He didn't think it was that bad but right now he was worried. "Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "I thought it was lavender but these true color halogen lights do make the tone seem richer."

"Harry!" Sirius yelled irritated at the complete lack of help that was.

"I demand reparations!" The goblin insisted. "Bring me an axe!"

Sirius began pleading for understanding and was quickly pulling the shirt over his head, when he heard an exceptional amount of snickering. It was the raspy quality to the snickering that caught Sirius' attention.

Sirius poked his head out from his shirt and saw the previously irate goblin was smiling widely at Harry. "Damn Harry. I yell just about anything loud enough and I think these two will believe it."

Harry was shaking his head. "Sorry Padfoot, but I gotta agree that's a pretty horrible color on you."

"My apologies, Mr. Padfoot," the goblin said. "I do enjoy ribbing wizards on their ignorance of goblins when I can. Don't take it personally, but your blouse was too tempting a target for me to pass up. You may call me Logjam."

"It's not a blouse," Sirius whined. "It's a shirt, Logjam."

"Oh pardon me," Logjam grinned as his eyes seemed to twinkle. "I'm just so ignorant of your wizard couture."

Sirius had a feeling he was being mocked and given the grin on James' face, he wasn't the only one.

"Prongs, Padfoot," Harry introduced and was pointing towards specific goblins. "This is Claptrap, Hoodwink, and Brickhouse. And you have already met Griphook, Crackhead, and Logjam." Harry turned to Logjam. "I take it Ragnok is another no-show?"

Logjam nodded. "Said he needs to wash his hare."

James guffawed at the ridiculous of that excuse.

Claptrap shook his head solemnly. "He really does. His pet rabbit is quite filthy."

James and Sirius exchanged another look as though they were being mocked.

"I'm ready for a game, ladies." Harry suggested as he sat down at the poker table and began shuffling one of the decks.

"Where's the remote?" Brickhouse inquired as he began checking under seat cushions.

"You do watch TV!" James exclaimed.

"Of course," Crackhead assured. "We must constantly monitor the various worldwide markets and economies." He pointed to the TV which was on an American news channel.

"So this is the famed 'cable' I keep hearing about," Sirius said reverently looking at all the moving tickers.

"Good heavens no," Crackhead gasped. "We're goblins, not savages. We have a satellite."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean a dish?"

Crackhead smiled widely. "No. I meant satellite."

James had no idea what they were talking about, but as a man, he decided he wanted one too.

"Ah-ha!" Brickhouse declared upon discovery of the remote.

"What's on?" Harry asked.

Brickhouse enthusiastically responded, "The perfect poker background noise. Our baseball team is playing tonight." He flipped through a few channels before landing on a sports one.

"You guys own the Yankees?" Harry asked noticing the game.

All the goblins proudly smiled. Hoodwink puffed up and added, "And the Red Sox too."

"That…" Harry considered, "explains a lot."

And that was the end of the shop talk for now. It was time to play some cards.

"Muggle cards?" Sirius asked. "And they're not even nudies?"

"There aren't even any pictures to move!" James exclaimed.

"Well I know one person who doesn't have any face cards," Harry smarmily pointed out.

"What's with the muggle cards?" Sirius asked.

Claptrap explained, "These aren't simple muggle cards. These cards are completely resistant to magic as we find it necessary to keep Harry from cheating."

"I haven't cheated you guys even once." Harry insisted with an evil grin.

Griphook grumbled. "And you haven't lost even once yet either."

"Don't be glum Griphook," Harry cheekily grinned. "Maybe tonight's your night. Go ahead and rub Padfoot's upper thigh for luck."

Griphook's eyes widened and he scooted his chair a little further away from the wizard sitting next to him.

"I don't mind if you rub it." Sirius shrugged and sadly whispered, "Someone's got to."

The awkward silence after that comment lasted until Crackhead opened the betting.

Three hours later, several hundred thousand galleons had shifted around the room. The baseball game had ended, but no one really pays that much attention to it while they're playing anyway. It's just a comfort to have it on. Currently, there was the night's biggest pot in the middle and it was down to a familiar two people staring each other down.

Harry had a small grin while Griphook maintained as stony and expressionless a face as he could. "Griphook, my friend, I don't say this often, but I think you should fold."

The other goblins at the table all exchanged looks at this.

Griphook saw the worry on the faces of the other goblins and the restrained smile on Harry's face. "Fine. Take it." He grumbled out mucking his pocket pair. "Why? What did you have?" He inquired hopefully.

Harry snorted. "I didn't have anything. I just wanted you to fold."

"What?" Griphook sputtered. "But… you… argggh!"

James, Sirius, and all the other goblins were laughing at Griphook purpling in anger.

Harry chuckled as he raked in the pot. "Well hell, if it's that easy. Griphook, my friend, I think you should give me all your chips."

Griphook snarled. "Evil untrustworthy wizards! That's it! I'm petitioning for a rebellion!"

Logjam looked at the angry goblin. "Griphook, my friend," he chuckled. "I think you should surrender." It appeared as though the rebellion lost its steam as everyone had a few more good laughs at Griphook's expense.

Griphook's eyes lit up. "I think this evening, given the resurrection of two guests, most certainly counts as a special occasion."

"That's right!" Brickhouse exclaimed victoriously. "You promised Harry! Next 'special occasion' you said."

Harry smiled and sighed. "Alright, but you're all drinking with me." He turned to his father and godfather. "You two, as well."

Sirius lifted his glass proudly and pointed to James' bottle. "We've been drinking all night."

Harry shook his head. "No. We're drinking Goblin Whiskey now. It's probably a mite stronger than what you're used to."

Brickhouse set everyone up with a shot and a half filled glass to sip. They all prepared to take the shots and Harry advised James and Sirius, "Err… if you've never tried this before, you might want to lean forward."

Brickhouse counted down from three and they all knocked back their shot of Goblin Whiskey. As expected, Sirius and James were not prepared for the strength of the alcohol, nor the speed with which it goes through your body. And like every rookie drinker, flames shot out their arses.

"Ahhh!" Sirius yelled as he jumped up out of his chair. His throat felt like it was on fire, and without even realizing it, Sirius had fallen to the floor and was dragging his toasted rear on the carpet scuttling forward on the ground.

James' eyes were watering heavily and he worked his hips, rubbing soothing circles onto the slightly burnt chair.

Harry and the goblins could only laugh at the two men's predicament. Harry was having to wipe his eyes both from tears of mirth and from the extremely potent beverage. "Padfoot," Harry whined. "Do I smell burnt hair?"

Sirius only now realized he was dragging his butt across the carpet at a poker game, as well as the fact that he was being laughed at. "Sorry bout that," he mumbled as he stood up, clenched, and ambled his way back to his seat. "That's one hell of a kick in that whiskey."

Claptrap cheekily mentioned, "There's actually more goblin in it, than whiskey."

James could only make a pained face and unconsciously began to sip from his new glass. He coughed and choked yet again, before continuing to knock back what was affectionately christened the Goblin Sauce.

It was also at this point where the game, as well as the rest of the evening, became a bit blurry in the minds of the three wizards. Harry was in slightly better shape than James and Sirius, but even he was arguably incohesive. One thing the wizards discovered was that Goblin Whiskey does not make you tired, but actually energizes you and makes you more awake. It also slows motor functions, induces occasional hallucinations, and relaxes your inhibitions. But it doesn't make you drowsy. Needless to say, the stakes were raised.

It was seven-thirty in the morning before they finally called it quits. Everybody seemed pretty frustrated that an inebriated Harry played even better than a sober one, and he was the only one who came out ahead for the night.

Sirius asked Harry how much he won, and Harry complained that it was too early in the morning for math. Griphook answered him irritated, "Almost a Malfoy and a half."

James let out a low whistle. "Not a bad night's work."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Most of it, from you two though, so that's a little less impressive."

"I tried asking Griphook to fold," Sirius shrugged. "I guess he just likes you better."

"I hate you both," Griphook insisted. "Though probably Harry more."

"I'll see you ladies later," Harry said as he put a hand on each of his drunk father figures and apparated the three of them away.

The men were vainly hoping no one would be waiting up for them. They had mentioned that the game might run past midnight. Of course, they weren't sure the girls understood just how late 'past midnight' actually translates to when it comes to poker night. The three drunken men reappeared and found themselves surrounded by three angry females.

Ginny screeched. "Harry James Pot-" was as far as she got before Harry's stunner slammed into Ginny's abdomen.

"Good god, she's loud," Sirius complained rubbing his ears. "Don't you girls have any idea what time it is?"

"What?" Hermione indignantly retorted. "But… we… augh!" Perhaps lack of sleep left Hermione unprepared for her argument to be preemptively turned around on her."

"Relax Hermy," Harry slurred. "It's all good. I'm going to need to apologize to Ginny a couple times but that's cool."

Lily looked at her smiley son. "Are you drunk?"

Harry giggled. "Does a Pope shit Catholic?"

Sirius found this to be just about the funniest thing all night, followed closely by the smile on Lily's face as she tried to act angry, as her husband lovingly hugged her lower legs. All of sudden, Sirius remembered the advice Hoodwink had given him and he lunged forward and shoved Lily. James' playful hugging unfortunately now prevented her from being able to adjust her balance and she fell backwards to the floor with the grace of a stoned penguin.

"What the hell was that for?" Lily growled from the floor.

Sirius shrugged a little disappointed. "Hoodwink told me muggles love getting drunk and tipping cows. Maybe I didn't do it right."

Lily answered the only way she knew how, with her shoe. Exhaustion must have caught up with Sirius, as he was beaned in the head, fell to the floor, and immediately began snoring.

"You've been drinking and apparating?" Hermione frowned. "Harry! You know that's illegal!"

Harry nodded and smiled right back. "That reminds of something I had an idea about. I'm going to try it on you now, Herms. So do you us both a favor, and don't move."

Hermione did not like the sound of this, but feared moving would mess up whatever ridiculous idea Harry had or more likely, endanger her health.

Harry was standing approximately six feet directly in front of Hermione was concentrating heavily on her. You could feel the magic in the air swirling and tensing, building up to something big. "Ahh," Harry gulped and the tension seemed to disappear. "Okay, that wasn't right. Give me another shot here." The magic was building up again.

"Harry," Hermione asked, feeling the massive amount of ambient magic in the air. "What are you trying to do?"

Harry was focusing his eyes on Hermione, and chewing on his bottom lip. "I'm… trying… to…" He paused and took another deep breath maintaining his concentration. "Apparate…"

Hermione looked at him oddly, as he gasped out the last word, "you." Hermione's eyes widened and she watched the entire world around her shift and then snap back into place, with her five feet to her left.

"What the hell was that?" Hermione explained confused by the sensations.

"Oh my god, it worked!" An elated and still drunk Harry cheered. "I can't believe it worked and I haven't passed-"

Nicholas appeared with a pop and caught the fainting Harry Potter. "I got him." Nicholas smiled and shook his head. "I'm not sure Harry and Goblin Sauce make a very good team."

Lily was clutching her heart at the sudden appearance of Nicholas Flamel. "Goblin Sauce?"

Nicholas shrugged. "Goblin Whiskey if you prefer. And trust me, Harry's an idiot, and will be magically exhausted for a little while. Though I must admit to being impressed he managed to pull that off."

Hermione was looking at what she knew had to be a from-the-future Harry, and asked, "What the hell did he do? I find it hard to believe that he actually apparated me, because the idea is ridiculous and it felt different from normal apparition."

Lily nodded at the old man. "Yeah, I could have sworn I felt it too but I wasn't pulled into Hermione's field I know."

Nicholas was blushing, having to explain this one to Hermione. "He's not usually this dense, and he would have known better than to try this if he were sober. But he…"

Hermione was smirking happily. "What?"

Nicholas sighed. "He thought he could give off the appearance of apparating you, my snuggums, if he only concentrated on apparating himself, and everything else on the planet, except you, and shifting us all five feet to your right."

"He apparated us? The whole planet?" Lily asked, ignoring the snores from her husband at her feet.

Nicholas shrugged. "I somewhat doubt he did the whole planet, but he certainly got this room. Probably the building. Maybe the Alley, Maybe the town, the island, I don't know. But hopefully enough to call the experiment a success and know better than to ever try it again."

Lily looked at her unconscious son. "He is brilliantly stupid, isn't he?"

Hermione flashed Nicholas a victorious smile and agreed that Lily was at least half-right.

"Bessie, if you wouldn't mind taking your unconscious husband to bed, I'll tuck in Padfoot, and then help my little lady tucking in your brilliantly stupid offspring."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I think I can take care of him."

"I agree," Nicholas said as he levitated Sirius snoring body. "But I don't trust you."

Hermione huffed and dragged Harry towards his room the muggle way.

"I'm going to head to bed as well," Lily said as she levitated her husband. "Should we do something for Ginny?"

Hermione waved Lily off. "I'll take her home when I leave, Bessie. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks Hermione," Lily replied. "And thank you and Ginny both for staying up with me. We should strip down to our skivvies and have pillow fights more often."

Nicholas pretended not to hear that, but he did bang Sirius's floating body into the doorframe.

Harry was dreaming. He could tell. He was also conscious of the fact he only ever dreamed like this when he was seriously magically exhausted. He must have done something pretty stupid.

The biggest clue informing him that he was dreaming was the fact that he was the only wizard around in sight. And he was completely surrounded by a large crowd of angry, yelling house-elves.

A high-pitched voice drew Harry's attention towards a fenced in area. It was an area Harry recognized immediately. And only now did Harry realize he had stumbled into the house-elf underground fighting circuit. Actually the idea that there was an underground house-elf fighting circuit didn't really surprise Harry that much. But what the announcer called out did.

"And in this corner, weighing in at thirty-two and a half pounds…Dobbbbbby!"

Harry's ears immediately perked up and he noticed a much younger version of his apprentice and friend.

"And in this corner, weighing in at thirty-seven pounds… Dubbbbyaaaa!"

Harry looked at the most odd looking house-elf he'd ever seen. He was almost human-looking despite his massive ears. "Dubya?" Harry repeated trying the name out.

Dobby looked nervous, while Dubya was eating up the attention.

"Fight!" A loud voice echoed as a bell rang, and the two elves sprinted straight at each other and began grappling in some sort of wrestling battle of strength. A quick pop and Dobby grabbed Dubya from behind. Dobby squeezed Dubya in a bear hug and slammed him backwards onto his own head.

The angry crowd cheered the violent house-elf battle, Harry cheering on Dobby the loudest.

Dubya got up off the ground and sprinted straight at Dobby. Dobby spun away from Dubya's bull charge, and grabbed one of Dubya's ears as he went past. A twist and whip of his arm and Dubya was flung viciously onto the ground.

Dobby smiled at the crowds and was flexing both his arms showing off his rippling muscles. Harry wasn't exactly impressed, but Dobby seemed proud. Dobby wasn't paying attention to his opponent who had made his way to his feet.

Dubya snarled angrily. A quick pop and he was right behind Dobby. He drew his little foot back and booted Dobby right in the arse knocking Dobby headfirst into the ground.

"Heh-heh-heh." Dubya snickered. "Dubya is a Dobby ass-kicker. Dubya ass-kicks Dobby. Heh-heh-heh."

Dobby got back up and snapped back, "Yous better kick your ass goodbye, because Dobby going to kiss it from here to the holy land."

"Heh-heh-heh," Dubya cackled. "Yous going to kiss my what, where?"

"Ass," Dobby retorted. "Holy land."

"Heh-heh-heh." Dubya evilly giggled knowing Dobby was making a fool of himself.

An ear-piercing shriek of a woman attracted Harry's attention. A few looks around and Harry realized no other house-elves heard that. With a shake of his head, Harry woke up in his bed, strangely alert. Another squeal and scream and Harry ran into his living room. He immediately saw the problem and tried to calm his frantic mother. "Bessie!" He yelled. "Lily! Mum!"

Lily looked terrified and tore her gaze away to make eye contact with her son.

"Mum, relax." Harry looked over at his friend. "Trust me… he's more scared of you right now, than you are of him."

Lily thought her son might be crazy, but was accepting that reality concerning him was more than a tad bit skewed. "Really?" She asked weakly looking over at the massive creature.

"No, not really," Bob calmly replied. "But if it will calm you down, you go right on ahead and believe that."

"Aieieee!" Lily squealed again, completely unprepared for a dementor to speak normal English.

"Stop it, Bob," Harry frowned. "You're not helping."

Bob shrugged and settled himself down on the couch. "And you've got a hole in the seat of your pajamas. Goblins get you drinking again?"

Harry groaned and clutched his head at the reminder, ignoring his exposed bottom. "Bessie, meet Bob. He's not exactly the sort of dementor you're probably used to. Bob, this lovely lady is my mother, Bessie."

Bob waved from where he was seated. "I'd get up and shake your hand, but you still look like you're tempted to run screaming away, so I'm just going to wave from here."

Lily looked between her son and this gentlemanly dementor named Bob. "Err… thanks."

Bob nodded. "Sorry I startled you. Nicholas told me I should just drop on by, and that you would be expecting me."

Harry smiled ruefully. "Nicholas would say something like that."

Lily just laughed weakly, still uncomfortable with the idea of a friendly dementor.

Bob saw Lily's apprehension. "Don't worry, Bessie. I'd never hurt any of you, but I can see I'm making you nervous. So I'm just going to go watch Sirius sleep." Bob got up and glided into Sirius' bedroom.

Lily paled remembering Sirius' horror stories from Azkaban.

Bob's amused voice called out from the Sirius' bedroom. "Hey! You hit him with a Venerio!"

"Erm, Bob," Harry asked nervously. "Why are you looking?"

"Oh shush, The-Boy-Who-Loved-Boys," Bob called back. The complete lack of screams of terror indicated Sirius was an extremely sound sleeper.

"You okay, Mum?" Harry asked his mother cautiously.

Lily nodded and looked a little ashamed. "I'm sorry Harry. It's just that… Bob looks so scary."

"Yeah, and don't mention anything about him to anyone, if you don't mind." Harry explained. "The wizarding world isn't ready for the idea of a normal, courteous dementor."

Lily nodded agreeing heartily. "I was going to make myself a late lunch. Would you like something?"

Harry nodded. "Sure. Just make two of whatever you're having. You don't have to grill up any of your sisters for me. But if you don't mind, I would like to talk with my apprentice about an underground cage match he fought in, back in his youth."

Lily just nodded, still acclimating to life around her son, and walked to the kitchen.

With a pop and a fearful look Dobby immediately appeared. "You… you know about those, Master?"

Harry looked at his apprentice and raised an eyebrow. "Those? You were in several?"

Dobby gulped and bowed his head.

Harry smiled at his little friend. "Relax Dobby. I've fought in a few illegal full contact cage matches myself. I'm just curious about this part of your life I've never heard of."

"You found about one? How did you find out? House-elves are supposed to keep them secret!"

Harry shrugged. "I probably got it from you actually. I don't think there's been a whole lot of Master-Apprentice bonds between wizards and house-elves. It was just this past night or morning I guess, I dreamt about you in a cage match with a really weird looking elf called-"

"Dubya!" Dobby interrupted and his eyes flared. "Dobby hate Dubya! Dobby really hate Dubya!"

"Dobby so angry Dobby talking house-elfish," Harry interrupted.

Dobby paused and composed himself. "Sorry Master, it's just a part of my life I try not to think about."

Harry smiled. "You know I don't care if you talk house-elfish or not. And I didn't mean to bring back bad memories. You don't have to explain it to me, if it bothers you at all. But as your friend, I am curious."

Dobby popped away for a second and reappeared with two butterbeers. He handed one to Harry and chugged a few mouthfuls from his own bottle.

"It was back with the bad Masters," Dobby began, regaling an old war story.

"No punishing yourself," Harry reminded. "You know that one's permanent."

Dobby nodded and sipped his bottle. "Yes. I know." He took a deep breath and continued in a squeaky voice, "Old Master used to just tell Dobby to punish himself for no discernible reason. Dobby was not only elf who got told this. This been a practice for a long time. So house-elves sometimes get together and help each other punish ourselves, as well as work off our extra energy. It's also sort of fun, but it only works if Masters don't know how much fun punishing ourselves is. They just see us with bruises and cuts and are satisfied."

Harry shook his head with a grin. "You house-elves are so much more devious than people realize. And I won't pretend to know how bad it was for you with those people, but I'm glad to hear you had some fun."

Dobby nodded and was enjoying his butterbeer.

"So why do you hate Dubya? And is he a normal house-elf?"

Dobby snarled, and briefly Harry imagined Dobby as an angry drunk. "Dubya," Dobby spit out the name, "was always mean to Dobby. He made fun of me and mocked me any time he could. Made me look stupid."

"Yeah," Harry smiled. "I think I heard you talking about kissing his ass holy land."

Dobby blushed and dropped his head. "Yes Master. That's why I was so happy you took me on as an apprentice. So I no longer will be caught without a snappy comeback again."

Harry smiled, realizing his student of the craft was exorcising some old demons. Metaphorically, this time, thankfully. "So is Dubya a normal full blooded house-elf? Because he looked… off."

Dobby smiled. "No he is not all house-elf. It was a topic of discussion for some time, but according to Dubya, he is half house-elf, half goblin, and half tree."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Isn't that three halves?"

Dobby nodded. "Yes. We think it's the tree."

Harry could only agree as he enjoyed his butterbeer. "So did you win that match? I woke up shortly after he booted you in the buttocks."

"Oh that match!" Dobby nodded. "Yes, luckily, I won that one. Thanks be to Potty."

Harry grumbled knowing Dobby would claim to be praising toilets, throwing the cheek back in Harry's face. "Why was that lucky?"

Dobby was briefly lost in thought. "Oh, sorry, Master. It was lucky because Dobby and Dubya had a wager on that match. Loser had to become president of the uni-"

"Aaaaahhhhhhh!" A shrill scream cut into their conversation.

Harry smiled. "I think Padfoot woke up."

"Aaaaahhhhhhh!" the scream continued trailing off into whimpers and gasps for breath. "Oh God, no! James! Lily! Nooooo!"

Harry was snickering when Lily came rushing out of the kitchen. "Is he going to be… alright?"

"Harry!" the voice cried, in obvious anguish. "Oh Harry. I failed you. It's all my fault. Oh Harry." He sniffled.

Harry smiled and shrugged. "I hope so."

"Oh God!" the voice continued wailing wildly. "What have I done? It was just a baby. She never hurt anyone! Oh God, I'm a monster!"

Lily was wavering between staying out here and learning more about whatever Sirius was screaming now, or running in there to help the man who sounded like he was in severe emotional turmoil. She ignored her better judgment and decided to help her son's godfather. She hurriedly ran to his bedroom. "Sirius! Padfoot! It's okay! You're safe!"

She burst into the room and saw a widely grinning Sirius sitting fully clothed and calmly on his bed. "Oh Lils," he shook his head ruefully. "There's a fucker born every minute."

Lily huffed angrily, once again promising to never care about Sirius ever again. She was secretly punishing him slightly by not correcting his verbal mistake.

"Honestly," Sirius grinned. "A fake dementor in my room when I wake up? Was that the best you guys could come up with?"

Lily looked over at Bob, who wasn't moving, but merely sitting down looking amused. Lily explained, "Err… Sirius? That's not a fake dementor."

"I think I've spent enough time around them, little Bessie," Sirius chided. "We'd both be feeling a bit cold this close to a dementor."

"Not with Bob," Lily said with a nod to the dementor. "He's not what you expect from a dementor."

Sirius looked over towards Bob and saw the unmoving dementor.

Bob waited about five seconds, lulling Sirius into thinking Lily crazy. Then he jumped out of his seat and extended a bony decaying hand. "How you doin', Padfoot?"

"Aaaaahhhhhhh!" Sirius yelped falling to the floor and scrambling backwards away from the creature. "Oh my God! Aaaaahhhhhhh!"

Lily looked over at the imposing and massive creature. "I'm starting to like you, Bob."

"Sorry, Bessie," Bob joked. "But my heart belongs to another."

"Oh… err, I didn't…" Lily stammered. "I mean…"

"Although if you ever find my heart," Bob asked scratching where his chin should be. "Do let me know. I would like it back at some point."

Lily just sat there dumbfounded. "Alright." She agreed.

Sirius had stopped scrambling away once he'd backed into a wall and hadn't remembered about lateral movement. He seemed a lot less freaked out and was trying to remember something. "I swear I know that voice," Sirius was saying to himself.

"Yes you do," Bob agreed. "Though I'm not too sure how well your memory held up."

"Wait a minute," Sirius realized. "You're real!"

Bob nodded. "So I'm told."

"I always thought I was hallucinating playing gobstones with a dementor!" Sirius exclaimed.

Bob shook his head. "Nope. You were always my most aware opponent."

"If I recall correctly, I think I won a whole lot more than you did," Sirius added with a smirk.

Bob shook his head. "There's that memory loss I was talking about, Padfoot."

"Hey now!" Sirius complained. "I'll beat your decayed rotten arse again, if you got the stones for it."

Lily smiled remembering a curse. "Because we know you don't have them right now."

A sleepy voice from another bedroom yelled out, "Dammit Padfoot! First with the screaming, now with yelling! Some of us need our beauty sleep here!"

"Hey Prongs!" Sirius yelled back. "I've got an old prison buddy out here!"

"Really?" a slightly worried voice yelled back.

"Hello Prongs," Bob yelled. "I'm Bob."

James hastily put on some clothes and came out of his room calling back, "Hi Bob. So what were you in for?" James walked into Sirius' bedroom and saw his wife, his best friend, and then noticed the fake dementor thing standing right next to him. He ignored whatever odd fetishes Sirius had now due to that wretched prison. Thinking the coast was clear he whispered towards Sirius. "What was Bob in for?"

Sirius' wicked grin in response worried James, so he was able to keep his composure when he felt a hand on his shoulder. A large hood leaned over James shoulder, turned his head so he could see his face, and rasped out, "Identity theft."

"Oh Bob," James groaned. "Identity theft? From a soul sucker? That's a horrible pun." James shook his head in disappointment. "Maybe you do deserve Azkaban."

Bob was thoroughly flabbergasted at the lack of fear from James. He took his hand off James shoulder and walked back to the kitchen, wondering at what point he had lost it. Back when he had it, that would've had three out of four people wetting themselves, but today, nothing. He didn't even get a flinch. Bob didn't know it, but he was having a bit of an identity crisis. And right now he could use a hug, so he went looking for Harry.

Sirius and Lily were shocked at the complete nonchalance James responded with. They felt cheated out of him squealing in fear, but they were also completely impressed.

"Bob seemed nice," James stated happily. "Was he… err… human? Because that tongue thing and lack of skin on his face was a bit intimidating."

Sirius goggled at him. "Bob's a dementor."

James looked back down the hall the direction Bob went. "That? No, that wasn't a dementor."

Lily shook her head at her husband. "Whatever you say, honey. Though, I should point out you have a piece of diseased dementor flesh that seems to have rotted off and landed on your shoulder there."

James look over and saw a grayish-orange lumpy hunk of something on his shirt. He picked it off and looked at it curiously. He raised an eyebrow at his best friend and wife. "This? Is a piece of dementor?"

Sirius reluctantly nodded, a bit disgusted by the way James was squeezing it between his fingers.

"Right," James said with a roll of his eyes. He quickly tossed the chunk of Bob into his mouth and made a show of chewing it up.

Lily and Sirius just stared at James in abject horror. Lily shook her head. "Oh you stupid man. You take after your son."

"He's your son too," Sirius pointed out.

Lily disagreed. "When he's stupid he's all James' boy."

James' gag reflex finally kicked in as the taste buds in his mouth reacted violently to something he was chewing through. He began spitting out all over the ground and was scraping his own tongue with his fingernails in an effort to clean it. "Oh god. It tasted like boiled feet."