Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

After months of writing and revising, I have finally finished my newest and probably best story yet. Yeah, I know, it's one of the most overdone stories on here: a fifth year fic. But I guarantee that this one will hold your attention for at least the first fifteen minutes, is Mary-Sue free, and has everything you could possibly want. I've got Romance, Drama, Angst, Action, Humor, Horror, and Sci-fi components all in one.

Please read this story. It's the only one hat I've ever done that I really like, and I would greatly appreciate it. Reviews would also be quite nice. I will be posting every few days. (Please note that I am still revising some parts and that may cause delays.). I will also be posting a parody (my first ever). A Harry Potter parody of the Goo-goo Dolls' Broadway (is Dark Tonight).

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter names, places, characters, etc. mentioned are not mine but JKRowling's, and all associates. I claim no credit for them and do not intend to gain anything from this story other than self-satisfaction.

This story begins in the early summer after Harry's fourth year.

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Chapter One:

Harry potter, the boy who lived, opened his eyes to bright sunshine. This startled him, considering that ever since he had returned home (if you can call it that) from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his dreams had been infected with nightmarish visions of death, guilt, fear, pure hatred, and a stronger, deadlier Voldemort rising to power and conquering the Good Side.

But for one reason or another, Harry had not dreamed at all last night. There was no dull ache in his scar and no guilt burning in his throat.

It was June, still early into the summer holiday. Birds chirped peacefully out side of Harry's window. How, when everything to perfectly peaceful, could so many things be going wrong with the world?

Just for starters, Lord Voldemort, known by most as You-know-who, had returned to his body after thirteen years of waiting for a servant, one of his supporters, return and assist him. Harry had, in fact, been present when Voldemort was rebirthed, though quite against his will. His companion, Cedric Diggory, was killed. Harry had dueled with Voldemort . . . but that wasn't a memory he wanted to think about.

When Harry returned to Hogwarts, he was quite annoyed and displeased that people like Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, didn't believe him. Dumbledore was currently traveling the world, trying to convince as many people as possible that the Dark Lord had indeed returned, but some people just didn't want to believe him.

Dumbledore was gathering allies: the giants, the merpeople, the goblins . . . but not the Dementors, the guards of Azkaban. He didn't trust them, not at all.

Harry had been in close contact with Dumbledore this summer, Dumbledore wanting to know about any unusual activity. But so far, it had been just another boring summer at the Dursleys.

Harry got out of bed and walked over to the window. He looked around at the perfectly average-looking street . . . a dog was barking somewhere . . . a man a few houses down was trimming his lawn . . . and there was elderly Mrs. Figg, walking down the street for one reason or another. Just yesterday, Harry had been forced to spend the day with her when his relatives went out on a company picnic for Grunnings, the Drill Company Uncle Vernon worked for. It had been most uneventful. The only upside was that Harry got to watch television while Mrs. Figg made sandwiches. The rest of the time, he was forced to listen to her talk endlessly about her cats and friends from her childhood. Harry nibbled his ham sandwich and sipped his 'punch'. (If truth be told, the punch burned his throat and was only vaguely sweet).

Mrs. Figg must have sensed his gaze, because she glanced at his bedroom window. A slight smile passed over her face as she waved merrily at him, something she had never done before. Harry just kind of stared at her, but after a few seconds, he hesitantly waved back. Mrs. Figg turned and continued on her way, being watched by Harry until she disappeared around the corner. How very odd . . .

"Boy!" barked Uncle Vernon's voice from the kitchen. "Breakfast!"

Harry pushed aside his thoughts and bounded down the stairs to get something to eat. In the kitchen, Uncle Vernon was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper and grumbling about "ruddy company managers" and "lousy blundering incompetents." Dudley was staring at the television on the kitchen counter and Aunt Petunia was standing over the stove cooking bacon in a skillet.

Harry plunked himself down in his usual chair and closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the calmness he rarely was privileged . . .

Miles away, however, things were certainly not calm. Death Eaters were beginning to go back to their favorite games of murder and torture. So far, no deaths were reported, but plenty of people had gone missing. Officials at the Ministry of Magic were at a loss. They were trying to keep things running as smoothly as possible, but that proved to be quite difficult when only half of the people there actually believed Voldemort had returned.

Arthur Weasley of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department was closely helping Dumbledore gather supporters, convincing his colleagues of the truth. His son, Percy Weasley, had been appointed head of the Department of Magical Cooperation after everyone had found out he had practically been running it last year anyhow, during Crouch's absence. Unlike everyone in his family thought, Percy was not at all pompous about his position. He, in fact, seemed almost scared about it.

Dumbledore . . . well, no one really knew what he was up to. He was organizing . . . something.

But no one knew where Voldemort himself was hiding. Not the Aurors, nor the Magical Law Enforcement team, nor the Unspeakables, not even Dumbledore knew where the Dark Lord was biding his time.

Harry was in his room a good part of that day, perfectly normal for him. He didn't want to go to sleep for fear that he would once again have to face that awful scene . . . Voldemort, small and weak, bundled in robes . . . Wormtail's stump of an arm . . . Cedric dead. . . Voldemort rising out of the cauldron . . . the duel . . . the pain from his scar . . .

So, Harry had to busy himself with the holiday homework his professors had given him. He was in the middle of a particularly nasty essay for Professor Bins on the reasons behind the classifications of merpeople and centaurs in the beast division, when a knock on his window told him that Hedwig was back. She had two letters. Another, beautiful light gray owl accompanied her.

Harry took the letters as he opened the window and the owls soared over to Hedwig's cage. One, Harry saw, was from Ron. Another was from Dumbledore. The letter from the strange owl was folded and closed with a wax seal. The one from Dumbledore read:

Dear Harry,

I am afraid you will not be able to visit Ron until at least mid-August. Right now, there is more pressing news I must tell you about.

As you know, I gave Hagrid a summer job at the end of last year, along with Madame Maxime (from Beaxbatons). They were to go into the mountains and find the giant- community there and make peace with them before the Dark lord convinced them otherwise. I received an owl not long ago from Hagrid that he had arrived, but I have not yet heard if it was successful.

Sirius is staying at Remus Lupin's house, along with some other guests. We have held a meeting and have decided that it would be wise if you would join us here. (Harry re-read this part over quite a few times to make sure it was what he thought).

I would prefer if you didn't leave your relatives' care, but being close to me is the next best thing. At least I'll know you're safe. I will arrive for you on the twenty-fourth of June. There is no need to reply.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Ron's letter read:

-Harry,

Dumbledore said you can't cone over until August. I don't see why, though. How could our house not be safer than with the muggles?

I hope you're enjoying your summer. Hermione wanted me to tell you that there hasn't been anything in the Daily Prophet about You-know-who's return. Fudge's probably refusing to let them write anything about it.

A strange thing happened the other day that Fred and George wanted me to tell you. I woke up one morning and halfway down the stairs, George thrust new dress robes towards me. 'Keep them. Call them a gift,' they said. 'And tell harry we did this.' They're up to something . . . there have been more explosions coming from their room than usual.

I'll talk to you later (hopefully before school starts again.)

-Ron

Next, Harry picked up the strange letter and eyed it curiously. Who would send him a letter like this? After a short debate (curiosity got the better of him), Harry slid his finger up the seal and unfolded the parchment. The letter read in bold fancy script:

Dear Harry Potter,

Thank you again for saving my sister from the lake. It was a very noble thing to do and you were very brave.

I would like to tell you that I will be staying at Hogwarts next year (I graduated at the beginning of summer) as an assistant to Professor McGonagall. I hope to improve my English there.

I just wanted to inform you.

Love,

Fleur Delacour

Harry enjoyed getting all of the letters and thought it was nice of Fleur to tell him. He was incredibly anxious about Dumbledore's arrival in a week. He would have to make sure to tell Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia in the morning. Harry wasn't much in the mood for schoolwork anymore so he put his books and parchments away and climbed into bed. The owls soared out the window together, and since it was warm, harry didn't bother to close it.

Harry finally submitted to sleep when he saw that the clock said three a.m. he could no longer support the growing weight of his eyelids. Unfortunately, the nightmares came back.

Harry was in the air, soaring high over the countryside. He was passing over whole cities in seconds. He began slowing down as he neared a large castle. It wasn't warm and inviting like Hogwarts; it was dark and cold looking, not to mention the spooky, jagged rocks surrounding the base. Harry was approaching the castle at an alarming rate. He thought he would crash, but at the last second, he rocketed upwards and into the window of the tallest tower.

Harry came to a halt in a corner of the round room. (Actually, the room was round and had no corners, but it was a shadowed area).

Harry was so oddly aware of everything that he found it hard to believe he was asleep, because this certainly had to be a dream. There were four visible figures in the room: one was sitting in a chair, facing a fire, and appearing to be in deep thought. Another was standing close by. One was standing in front of the only doorway legs spread and hands behind his back, standing stock-still like a guard. The last was on her hands and knees on the floor in an open area.

"Stroie," came a cold voice from the chair. Harry knew that voice. It had to be Voldemort. And that man had to be Wormtail. The woman on the floor pulled herself up and approached looking terrified.

"M-master . . ."

"You were caught . . . passing the Ministry information on us. Now, why would you do something like that?" Voldemort's voice remained calm, but you could sense the fury in his voice.

"Please, master. I-I am forever loyal to you. I-I-"

"SILENCE!" Voldemort hollered. Wormtail cowered. "You will pay now. Crucio"

Stroie fell to the ground and began twitching. Her eyes rolled back and her screams were drowning out any other sound that happened to be going on then. Finally, Voldemort removed the curse, but it was several minutes later when her breathing became regular again. Just when she was about to stand, Voldemort whispered, "Aveda Kadevra." He laughed insanely as a green light flashed and Stroie fell to the floor.

"Avery!" Voldemort said suddenly. The guard at the door turned his head. "Where are your manners? We have a guest and you just let a carcass sit here?" Harry looked around and Avery did the same. Harry saw no one else. Avery was as baffled as he was.

"Guest?" Avery asked.

"Of course!" exclaimed Voldemort almost jovially. "Harry Potter!"

As soon as the name was shouted, Harry's scar began to throb. It was almost as bad as at the maze. Harry clutched his forehead.

"What's the matter?" Voldemort asked, rising from his chair. "Aren't you even going to say hello?" He was walking ever closer to Harry, Avery and Wormtail looking on curiously. "Finally, I will do away with you. You know, you put up a good fight a couple months ago. Not a bad dueler, you are."

Harry was blinded by the pain, but he sensed Voldemort was only meters away. Harry, in a split-second decision, tried sprinting away. But Voldemort was quicker.

"Accio Harry Potter!" Harry's body was suddenly propelled backwards, towards Voldemort's outstretched arms. In the same second he would have been caught, Harry's eyes snapped open, back in his bed on Privet Drive.

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A/N: Whew that was a long chapter. Originally, I had that as two, but it was too short so I combined it. Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I couldn't resist. Let me know what you think. I will be posting again in the next few days. Thanks for your time.

~Morning Twilight~