A/N: This story begins in the summer after 5th year, and is rendered AU after HBP.

Oh, and all hail to J.K. Rowling, disclaimer, etc. blah blah, I make no money from this.

The story is rated M for drug use and violence, as well as a wee bit of shagging later on – oh, and language. Did I forget the language?

Enjoy.

Chapter 1: Birthday Adventures

Harry Potter of Number 4, Privet Drive, lay on his bed, a crumpled parchment across his chest. A cold, unseasonable mist pressed at the window panes, and the dull glow of streetlamps slanted across the dirty carpet in the darkness.

Harry stared up at the ceiling, his belted back itching, and ran over the letter again in his mind.

Dear Harry,

I do hope you are enjoying the summer holidays.

If you are agreeable, an Order member will call to collect you at 1 o'clock on the morning of July 31st.

Please send your reply as promptly as possible; this matter is of the utmost import.

Albus Dumbledore

Harry had scribbled a reply and sent Hedwig off out the window. Unfortunately it had been at this point that his uncle had chosen to check on him; hence his third beating in two days.

It was 12:30. His trunk was packed at the foot of his bed, he was dressed and his wand was in his jeans pocket. Standing up and stretching, Harry fished a lighter from his back pocket and lit Dumbledore's letter, dropping it in the bin.

His jeans and hoodie were still too baggy, but he had grown over the month he had been at Privet Drive; his shoulders had filled out from the fighting and he was roughly on par with Ron for height; his hair had grown and his jaw and nose were more defined – Jasper had said he looked more man than boy now.

Dragging his trunk downstairs was an ordeal, but he managed it without too much noise, until he stood in the hallway. He pulled a piece of parchment out of his back pocket and taped it to the front door, smirking at it.

I won't be back. Oh, and fuck you.

Harry

He unlocked the door; the keys left hanging in it, and checked his watch. 12:40.

Pushing it open, he winced as his trunk scraped over the threshold, then he straightened painfully, grimacing as the scabs on his back cracked.

Leaving his trunk on the low garden wall, Harry strolled down the street to where an old Peugeot waited. As he drew near Jasper got out. His blond dread-locks were matted but he was sober; he made to clap Harry on the back, but thought better of it.

"You leaving?"

"Yeah, some fucker from school's gonna be here at 1." He smiled at the bereft expression on Jasper's face. "I'll be in London next summer, and I might be in town at Christmas. I'll get in touch if I am."

Jasper grinned and the two shook hands. "You watch it, Sparky."

"Yeah," he smirked, "and you watch the fuzz, crack-head." Jasper laughed and got back in the car. It reversed into the bumper of the one parked behind it and tore off down the street.

It was a moment before he noticed his audience.

Leaning on the wall to his left, tall and silent, Severus Snape folded his arms across his chest. His hair was drawn back in a scruffy ponytail, strands of it falling across his face – which was unshaven and stubbled.

There were shadows beneath his eyes, and he was dressed in dirty jeans and a muggle jacket and t-shirt. The only things reminiscent of magic were his dragon-hide boots and the ash wand poking out of his belt.

"Hey, Snape," he greeted.

"Potter," acknowledged Snape with a faint sneer, "eloquent as ever, I see." Harry was astonished at the lack of a rebuke.

He fell into step beside Snape as the Potions Master headed back towards Number 4. "So…where're we going?"

"To initiate you into the Order of the Phoenix, Sparky." Harry glanced at him sharply.

"Fuck you," he muttered. But instead of exploding, Snape snorted with laughter. "I'm really joining the Order?"

Snape smirked. "Yes. But first we're going to Knockturn alley, and then you and I are going to have a chat at Grimmauld Place – no, don't ask why, imbecile." He sneered. "I can tell you, though, that we'll be taking Narcissa Malfoy and the owner of Borgin & Burkes' with us." Harry nearly choked. "They have vital information about Hogwarts' defences, and we've been ordered to apprehend them."

Harry stopped dead. Snape turned to look at him. "What are you playing at, Snape? You're being…nice." There really was no other word for it. "What's going on?"

He hadn't expected an answer, and he certainly hadn't expected Snape to glance away. When Snape spoke, his voice was soft. "In the past month I have been watching you four days a week for the order. I have also been spending too much time with the Headmaster. These…happenings… have brought me to a realization." Snape looked at him now, his gaze almost painful. "That you are not your father."

Before the summer Harry would have laughed in his face – but a month of street-fights and shady alliances had changed him more than he knew. He stuck out his hand, and to his shock Snape shook it without a word. He opened his mouth to -

CRACK!

Harry stumbled and a strong hand closed about his biceps, pulling him upright. The alley in which they found themselves was dark and reeked. "Asshole," he said under his breath.

A light drizzle fell, dampening the filthy cobble-stones and rusty gutters as Harry followed Snape through the winding labyrinth of moldy stone. He gripped his wand tightly up his sleeve, taking a moment to wonder at the strangeness of the night's events.

"When we get to Borgin's shop there will be no more talking. It is imperative that we take them both – or my position with the Dark Lord will be forfeit."

Abruptly Snape slowed and stuck out a hand to stop him. His palms were sweaty as the tall man pointed silently to the dangling sign: Borgin & Burkes'. The pair moved forward slowly, Harry turning to survey the empty alley at their backs as Snape inched open the door, sliding an arm in and up to seize and hold the bell before it could ring.

He jerked his head and Harry obediently slipped in, Snape following him, closing the door softly and releasing the bell. Harry glanced uneasily at Snape, who motioned him to move off to the left, himself taking the right. Then he was alone in the dark and dust.

Reminding himself of all the street fights of the past month, he picked his way carefully down the row of low shelves. The counter was before him, and from behind it drifted the hushed tones of voices.

"Have you seen the Daily Prophet? It's all over the country, the Dark Lord is furious-!"

"Lucius was in disgrace for it – but now he has the key to Hogwarts' defenses. I need to speak to Azrael!" Harry inched closer, wand at the ready. He could see them now, muttering furiously across a small table. Narcissa Malfoy was immaculate as ever, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes gleaming, and she kept gesticulating angrily.

Borgin's oily hair was slicked back, his sallow skin shiny in the light from candles on the table. He shook his head violently.

"Azrael is not here, and he would kill us as soon as look at us, you foolish woman." The pair turned away and Harry glanced frantically around – where was Snape?

Narcissa Malfoy stepped over to the fireplace, reaching for the floo powder. Harry leapt forwards.

"STUPIFY!" The spell caught her in the back and she fell forwards onto the hearth as Borgin turned, wand slashing down, mouth open.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry hurled himself left and crashed into a book-shelf, a jet of green light shooting over his head. He pushed himself up, brandishing his wand with a wild cry.

"INCENDIO! REDUCTO!" Borgin twisted to avoid a jet of flame and conjured a shield to stop the second spell, sending a bone-breaking curse back at Harry. There was a loud crack as it impacted with his chest, throwing him back to slide across the wooden floor-boards, Borgin stepping forwards –

A shadow detached itself from the wall to the right, wand slashing down silently. Borgin staggered back with a cry, his chest deeply cut by the spell. He turned frantically to his attacker, only to be sent crashing into the mantle-piece by a stunning spell of blistering speed.

Harry struggled to his feet as Snape stepped over the broken table, muttering, "Incarcerous." With a flick of his wand the pair were bound tightly, and he turned to Harry, who was clutching his side. "Could you not perhaps have used a shield, Mr. Potter?"

Harry sneered at him. "Well, you know, it might have negated the need for me to be fussed over at Headquarters. Wouldn't want me to lose the spotlight, would we now?"

To Harry's astonishment the Potions Master snorted. "Come, Potter, hold this," said Snape, handing him a finger-glove from his pocket. Snape bent to touch both Narcissa Malfoy and Borgin, and then placed a finger on the portkey. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but the world was lost in a whirl of color and pain from his broken ribs.

TBC