Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling, I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters & I don't make any money off of this.

Authors Note: This is my first Snape mentors Harry fic! Constructive criticism welcome, starts at the beginning of Order of the Phoenix. This is basically an introductory chapter to set up the rest of the story, very similar to the first chapter in the actual book. Will divert from chapter two. I'm usually used to writing Star Wars fics so this is going to be a nice change. Snape introduced at the end, will try and keep everyone in character as much as possible! :)

The Phoenix & The Serpent: Book One

Chapter One: Dementors in Little Whinging?

Arabella Figg didn't have a lot in life; widowed, a Squib and with no children, she mostly kept to herself and was happy with her cats. For the past fifteen years however, she had watched over Harry Potter and his relatives – a task which she considered of paramount importance to aid the Order of the Phoenix.

She sighed in relief as the summer heat finally started to withdraw for the day. If she felt incredibly hot, how did her poor cats feel? The small black cat that perched lazily on her lap looked up at her and meowed pathetically.

"I know, I know. I'm hot too." Mrs Figg glanced at the clock on her wall. It was only half six, she still had time to pop to her local shop and grab a few items for dinner. Gathering her purse, she stroked the cat one more time before hurrying out of the house.


Harry Potter, The Chosen One and saviour of the Wizarding world was currently lying down on his stomach in a flower bed, straining to hear the news through the open window. Between his Uncle's loud guffawing down the phone and his Aunt's incessant humming, Harry was having a hard time making anything out from the telly.

He sighed and glanced over his shoulder as he spotted Mrs Figg shuffling past slowly, purse clutched tightly to her chest, her tartan slippers slapping quietly against the pavement.

"Mr Branning is sure to give me a promotion, I can just feel it!" Vernon Dursley's loud voice cut across what faint news Harry was able to hear.

"Is that who you were on the phone to dear?" Petunia asked demurely.

"Yes. He was very impressed with my recent work." Harry could hear the distinct sound of the sofa creaking as his Uncle sat down. The TV suddenly started blaring, and Harry sighed in relief at finally being able to hear the news properly.

"Where's the boy?" Vernon asked gruffly, not really caring.

"I'm not sure." His wife replied. That was the extent of their concern for their nephew. Scowling, Harry ignored them and tried to concentrate on the TV.

"The forecast for tomorrow is more sunshine, similar to today's weather..."

Harry let his head fall onto his arms, despairing at how useless the news was. He needed to know what was happening in the Wizarding world. The letters he had received from his friends were vague and talked instead about studies and the mundane things they were getting up to over the summer. It wasn't that Harry didn't like hearing from them, but he was constantly on edge, wondering what was going to happen – when something was going to happen.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack that disturbed the peace in Private Drive, startling the nearby birds and residents. Harry's mind had immediately jumped to a possible attack and he had sprung up from the ground, wand in hand as he looked wildly around.

Vernon came hurrying over to the window on spotting his nephew, and with one big meaty fist had grabbed the young man by the collar and half pulled him inside the living room.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" Vernon was furious, and his slowly reddening face confirmed that fact. "Put it away!" spit was flying wildly from his mouth, landing on Harry's face and glasses.

"Get off!" Harry reared back and fell onto the pavement, standing up and glaring at his Uncle, he tucked his wand away just as a woman from across the street opened her door and peered out disapprovingly.

"Frightful noise wasn't it, that car back firing. Gave us a fright!" Vernon called, a strained, manic smile on his face. A few tense seconds passed where the woman's eyes swivelled between the dishevelled Harry and the red faced Vernon before she smiled awkwardly and slammed her door shut.

"What were you doing under our window?" Petunia hissed, half hiding behind Vernon so the neighbours couldn't see her.

"I was listening to the news." Harry snapped, growing more and more agitated by his relatives.

Vernon drew himself up to his full height, his moustache bristling in indignation at the thought of Harry lying in the dirt on their lawn. "Do you know how many people might have seen you?"

"And your lot wouldn't be in our news!" Petunia added, her usually neat hair slowly unravelling out of its bun. "Get inside now before you're spotted!"

"What about those – owls you receive, boy? Aren't they telling you the news?" Vernon eyed him suspiciously, not believing a word Harry said.

"They're not telling me anything." Harry replied curtly before marching off, sick to death of his useless Aunt and Uncle. He kicked a stone along the pavement, hands in his pockets as he let the breeze cool him down. Harry was in a terribly bad mood, the letters he had received this morning from Ron and Hermione had done nothing to improve his mood. In fact, they had made him feel more miserable than ever.

Harry, we can't tell you too much obviously – in case our letters go missing or fall into the wrong hands. It's pretty hectic over here, we'll speak properly when we see you...

When we see you. Harry was seething as he flung himself down onto the low brick wall that surrounded the park. They were obviously together at the Burrow, hanging out, having a blast without him. What did they mean by things were hectic? Why did they get to be in the loop, whilst Harry had been ignored and starved of information?

I'm the one who has to defeat Voldemort! He fumed, viciously kicking another stone. He sent it flying towards the other side of the road. Sirius' letters had been just as useless. Of course, it was nice to hear from his Godfather, but he gave Harry not information either. Instead they just contained warnings to 'keep his nose clean' and to 'not get into trouble'. Harry scoffed to himself – how could he get into trouble when he was so isolated?

"See ya, Big D!" Roused from his thoughts, Harry turned and squinted into the park. The large, lumbering figure that was slowly walking away from him was unmistakeably his cousin Dudley. Harry sauntered after him, hanging back until the rest of Dudley's gang had dispersed. As they neared a tunnel, Harry called out to him.

"Oh, it's you." Dudley eyed him in disgust before continuing on his way, he seemed to be in no mood to torment Harry. Too bad for him that Harry was spoiling for a fight.

"Nice nickname, although you'll always be duddykins to me." Harry smirked as he noticed Dudley's hands ball into fists. He hadn't missed the way Dudley had eyed his wand that was sticking out of his back pocket.

"Shut up." he muttered, increasing his pace a little. Harry easily kept pace with him, the need for confrontation not having passed yet.

"So how old was your latest victim? Eleven? Ten? And you still need your four body guards to help you beat up a kid. Pathetic." Harry was surprised by the rush he felt as he said that. He wanted to rip Dudley to shreds with his words, to leave him a blubbering mess. It would make him feel better, he was sure of it.

"You can talk, always crying at night about Cedric. 'Don't kill Cedric!'" Dudley whimpered, letting out a bark of laughter at the distressed look on his cousins face.

"You're lying." Harry felt like a lead weight had dropped in his stomach. The world seemed to stop as Dudley continued his high pitched impression of Harry, happy to have found something that hit his a nerve.

Before he knew what was happening, Harry had grabbed Dudley by the front of his shirt and slammed him up against the tunnel wall, his wand pointed at the older boys throat. Dudley instantly paled and started stammering incoherently.

"What are you doing? Point that thing away from me!" His voice wobbled dangerously. They both knew that he could easily overpower Harry, but the thin piece of wood that was pressing into his neck stopped him.

"Don't ever mention that again. Understand?" Harry whispered, the warning in his voice was obvious. He hand shook slightly, the urge to hex Dudley was strong. He could feel all the years worth of hatred that had built up in him begging to be let free, to be unleashed on the trembling boy in front of him.

Dudley suddenly gasped, his face paling considerably. He nearly collapsed if it weren't for Harry holding him up. For a split second, Harry wondered if he had unintentionally cast a spell, but he knew that that couldn't have been the case. Then he felt it. An unnatural cold had permeated the very air they were breathing. It made his bones feel cold.

Harry knew what it was. It was a Dementor. He could hear its rattled, drawn out breathing as it noiselessly glided towards them.

"What are you doing? I'll hit you if you don't stop, I swear!" Dudley uncharacteristically squeaked.

Harry shushed him, trying to determine from which end of the tunnel the Dementor was coming from.

Stars exploded in front of Harry's vision and he stumbled to the ground, his wand clattering to the floor as Dudley had hit him on the side of his head.

"You idiot! You're running towards it!" Harry gasped out, hands desperately scrabbling around for his wand. Fumbling for a second, Harry managed to get a grip on his wand and he cast lumos. Dudley was huddled on the floor, shaking as the Dementor slowly lowered itself towards him.

"Expecto patronum!" A small wisp escaped his wand before fizzling out pathetically. He tried again but the same thing happened.

I'll never see Ron or Hermione again -

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry roared, his voice echoing around the tunnel. The stag he had produced thundered towards the Dementor, bucking at it with its antlers. The Dementor slowly dissipated into mist. The cold left as suddenly as it had came, and at once the tunnel was stiflingly hot.


The last thing Mrs Figg expected to see on her walk back home from the shops was Harry Potter, casting a Patronus charm at a Dementor, with his fat cousin shaking on the floor. She dropped the flimsy carrier bag she was carrying in shock, cat food and various tins rolling to the floor.

"Don't put it away idiot boy!" She gestured at his wand, "What if there are more of them!" She shrieked, running towards Harry.

"Mrs Figg?" Bewildered, Harry ran on auto-pilot as he followed her instructions and helped to pick Dudley up.

"Mundungus Fletcher was supposed to be watching you! I'm going to kill him!" She panted harshly, struggling under Dudley's weight.

"I was being followed?"

"You don't think Dumbledore would let you wander around unprotected, did you? Being a Squib I can't do much, but Fletcher was – argh!" She let out a strangled noise of frustration before she dumped Dudley on the ground outside of his house.

"Wait, what's going to happen now?" Harry shouted after her.

"I'm going to alert Dumbledore." And with that, Arabella Figg trotted off, one slipper missing as Harry stared after her in shock. Looking down at Dudley, he sighed and helped him inside the house.

"Dudley, there you are – Dudley? What's happened?" Petunia's voice steadily rose until she nearly at screaming pitch. Dudley took one step inside the living room by himself before throwing up.

"VERNON!" he immediately came thundering down the stairs, the whole house seemed to shake with the force of his footsteps.

"What happened Dudley? Was it the freak? Did he – did he use it on you?" A weak nod was all Vernon needed before rounding on Harry.

"It wasn't me -" Harry didn't have a chance to say anything else because Vernon had physically hit him across the face. Harry stumbled back and landed in an arm chair, dazed and confused. Vernon had man handled him in the past but he had never gone this far before. He could feel the warm blood dropping down his face from his nose as he sat there, wide eyed and staring at his Uncle. Suddenly, an owl swooped in through the chimney, landing on the window sill lightly. He stuck his leg out, and Harry numbly took the letter and unfurled it.

...We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm in the presence of a muggle...your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...destroy your wand.

Harry froze, his mind suddenly blank. Expelled? Destroy his wand? The way he saw it he had to options: he could either stay here and let them come and destroy his wand, or he could make a run for it. He was leaning towards the latter of those two options. He was broken from his jumbled thoughts by Uncle Vernon's menacing voice.

"I'm not done with you yet boy." He took one step towards Harry before another owl flew in through the chimney. "RUDDY OWLS!" Vernon roared, making a frenzied grab for it. The owl pecked him angrily and dropped of a hastily scribbled note to Harry.

Dumbledore is going to fix this. Don't leave your Aunt's house. Arthur.

How on earth was Dumbledore going to fix this? Harry suddenly bolted out of the chair, ducking under his Uncle's meaty arms and flying up the stairs to his room. He dove under his bed and pulled out a thick, leather bound book that Hermione had gifted him for his birthday. It was a book of Wizard myths, fables and magical artefacts.

Harry had thumbed through it and had come across a particularly interesting page. At the top it was simply titled The Pendant of Time. Apparently, one of the more coveted dark magic objects was the Pendant of Time, which was capable of taking the wearer back to one point in time, permanently. The wearer would replace their past self, and continue to live their life from that moment. Many people wanted the Pendant, and there were all sorts of rumours about where it was: some said it was in an Arabian cave, guarded by a dragon, and others said it was lost deep beneath the sea.

The latest 'sighting' however, was listed in the book as being Alnwick Manor, located in Britain. It was better than nothing, Harry thought. Clutching the book, he absent mindedly wiped some of the blood from his face and and disappeared out the of the house, ignoring Vernon's roaring from behind him. He could go to the Manor, make camp and think of a plan - and if he was lucky, he might even find the Pendant.

Mrs Figg must have a fireplace with access to the flew network. Harry ran down the street to her house, nearly falling over as he came to an abrupt stop. He sidled up to the window and peered in; all he could see were three cats, lazily curled up and asleep.

Using his wand, he unlocked the front door and paused, straining to hear any noise that indicated Mrs Figg was in. Throwing one last glance behind him, Harry headed into her living room and immediately spotted the small pot of powder that indicated it was indeed part of the flew network.

How come I never noticed when I came here for tea? Harry wondered idly. A cat meowed from behind him, as if telling him to hurry up. Harry took a fistful of power and threw it into the fire place.

"Alnwick Manor!" He shouted, and disappeared in a lick of green flames.

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace onto a cold stone floor. Grimacing, he rubbed his aching knees and stood up. The manor house certainly looked abandoned; the room was dark, cold and shabbily decorated with the bare essentials. A threadbare, faded carpet lay on the floor, the windows were covered by holey curtains which let in a draft and there was a single, lonely looking chair. Shrugging, Harry made his way to the only door and opened it with a creek. He jumped out of his skin when he saw Professor Snape standing there, hand outstretched to open the door.

Two seconds of stunned silence passed before a murderous look entered Snape's eyes.

"Mr Potter, what an unexpected surprise."