Hello.

This is my second attempt at a Harry Potter fanfiction, the first one has not been abandoned, though I feel like I'm running out of ideas.

Anyway, I'm not gonna give any summary for this one; let's just jump right into it.

Disclaimer: My name is not JK Rowling, nor does it rhyme with said name. Just in case you haven't figured it out, I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

-x-x-x-

Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Triwizard Champion, one of the greatest Seekers in Quidditch history stared blankly at the ceiling as he laid on the hard bed of his cousin's old room. His muscles felt stiff for laying motionless for hours.

Nothing had gone right from the past year. Starting right from nightmares about the man who murdered his parents, or visions more like it, to the attack at the Quidditch World Cup, that was more of an excuse to escape from Durskaban, rather than the actual wish to see the game, right to the Triwizard Tournament.

Oh, the Triwizard Tournament. Harry thought bitterly. He had held high hopes of a stress-free, near-death-free year, and all of it came crashing down like a ton of bricks when his name came out of that bloody Goblet of Fire. He turned out to be the fourth champion in a Triwizard Tournament, a tournament that was known for, and banned for it's high mortality rate. For some reason, someone had decided to bring back that damn thing and he had to participate because it was a 'magical contract' and any violation of said contract could result in 'dire consequences'.

Not to mention nearly every person in Hogwarts believed that he had put his name into the Goblet and had written him off as an 'attention seeking prat' and as the oh-so-wonderful Hufflepuffs put it, 'Glory Stealer'. Really, of all the Houses that Harry thought would be his least favorite, Hufflepuff was the least likely. Even in his Second Year it had been that way. They were always the first ones to think the worst of him.

Of course, what had really shocked and hurt him was the fact that his own house looked at him like he had kicked their puppy. Heralded right up front by Angelina Johnson, his current year Quidditch Captain, something that made him contemplate quitting the game, and everyone who had seeming forgotten the fact that he had risked his life several times for their sake.

...Not to mention my so-called 'best mate' Ronald Weasley... Ronald Bilius Weasley had apparently forgotten everytime they had gone on a life threatening adventure, and how he had saved him so many goddamn times, plus the fact that he had gone to face a thousand year of Basilisk that could kill you with just a look to save Ginny, the git's little sister. His jealousy had nearly cost him Harry's life by telling him some crap about Seamus and Parvati or someone. If he didn't meet Hagrid later, Harry was sure that he would have been nothing more than dust.

Harry had accepted Ron's half-hearted apology, but had kept him at arm's length. Harry was sure that both of them would never be as close as they were before, nor did he want to be. He had to deal with Ron's stupid jealousy problems for a long time, and was kind of sick of it. The only reason he still let Ron be his 'friend' was because he was his first 'real' friend.

Then the freaking Third Task happens. Tom Marvolo Riddle, known to most of the Wizarding World as 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', or to the less-stupid ones, as Lord Voldemort gets resurrected by his servant Peter Pettigrew, the man who betrayed his parents, framing his godfather Sirius Black.

Harry's guilt at practically being the cause of Cedric Diggory, who he considered to be the rightful winner of the Tournament, was something that would be similar to war heroes. Harry's gut clenched every time he thought of the handsome Hufflepuff.

He was no idiot, he knew that some of the Hufflepuffs probably suspected him to be responsible for Cedric's death, and the irony was so bitter that it almost twisted his tongue. For the first time ever, the Hufflepuffs suspected him, and they would be right.

Cedric Diggory was loved. Nobody loved him. Cedric Diggory had parents. He had no one. Cedric Diggory was famous for the right reasons. He was famous for the wrong reasons. The entire school wept when he died. No one would cry for him when he died.

Cedric Diggory was what Harry wanted to be like. He wanted parents. He wanted to feel the love of a parent. He wanted to be famous, not for being the survivor of the thing that killed his parents, he wanted to be famous because he deserved it.

Harry glared at nothing in particular as he remembered the past few days. It had been hell, well, something short of it. His 'Aunt' and 'Uncle' had been their usual selves, but were scared whenever Harry threatened to call Sirius. Dudley seemed to be positively avoiding him, but nothing seemed to make his mood better. There was nothing he could do, other than brood and wallow in his own misery and 'I'm a nice guy, what did I do to deserve this' shtick. Nothing to take his mood off of his guilt.

Of course, the Dementors, soul sucking guardians of Azkaban had made an appearance here in Muggle London and as usual targeted him, forcing him to defend himself.

That led to where we are now. Harry, gotten tired of staring at the wall, was now staring at the charred remains of the envelope from the Ministry official that had sent him the letter to 'kindly' inform him that he had been expelled for using a Patronus Charm.

I hate my life...

Harry stiffened when he felt someone's presence outside the door to his 'room'. No one knew this, but Harry could feel Magical signatures, but could not recognize who they belong to. It was how he had avoided many detentions from Filch when he was wandering around in the corridors before he got the Marauder's Map.

There were nine signatures outside the door. His instincts kicked in, and Harry grabbed his wand. Hell, he had already been expelled, there was little they could do to hurt him now... well, they could send Aurors, which would be bad, but he did hold his own with Voldemort, so he would like to take his chances...

Well, I got nothing left to lose... He thought darkly, springing out of his bed. He ignored the fact that he had nothing up except for knee length shorts. The windows were closed, there was no breeze inside the house, making his body slightly sweaty, his emerald green eyes seem to glow in the dark as he stood by the door, watching as the knob turned. He narrowed his eyes, clearly expecting someone here to finish the job.

...I'm not going to turn over for any bastard. He thought with absolute conviction.

The knob turned completely, and the door opened. Harry's breath hitched as he heard footsteps walk into the doorway.

'Very clean, these Muggles.' A female voice whispered. Harry saw the telltale sign of a Lumos spell bringing light into the dark room. Harry had not bothered to open any window or turn on the lights, having gotten used to the dark after ten years of spending time calling a cupboard your room.

'Where is he?' The same woman asked as she looked around the room. Harry could not recognize the woman, even with the Lumos on, as her back was turned to him. He only saw spiky pink hair on the top of her head, making her look somewhat like an anime character.

'He's supposed to be here. He would not leave this place.' A deeper voice, probably a man said, his voice indicating that he was slightly confused. The woman looked around with her brow furrowed, taking in the room, not that there is much in it. Harry saw his chance as she turned around. Quickly and with the grace of a gazelle, he moved away before she could see him and snuck behind her. A vivid electric blue eye saw his movement and smirked.

'Well, well, a man after my own heart. Eh, Potter?' The man said sarcastically. Harry recognized the voice, it was Mad-Eye Moody. Still, he did not want to take any chances. He grabbed the woman's arm, eliciting a startled yelp from her and twisted it. She definitely seemed to realize what was going on, as she struck her other hand out, clearly to punch him, or push him away, he did not care. He twisted the arm around painfully behind her back and pointed his wand at her neck.

'What the hell?!' The woman demanded. Harry narrowed his eyes, she was definitely familiar, but familiarity would not win any points here. Not now, during a time when he always felt like he was being watched. Not when Voldemort was back.

'This is the hell, punk rock.' He said putting the wand to her neck, 'Who the hell are you? You got five seconds to explain before I start cursing you.' He threatened. He felt the woman's leg move, and instantly knew that he had to cover his manhood. He clutched the offending leg between the sides of his knees. He removed his hand from the painful grip he had on her, and instead wrapped his around her neck.

'Goddammit, you are squishing my tits!' Harry valiantly fought down and felt proud to say that he did not blush even for a second when the woman commented that. Now, he definitely knew who she was. It was clear evidence with that comment, and he finally recognized who that hair belonged to.

'Better I squish your tits, than you squish my life, Tonks.' He said, grip not loosening. Tonks winced at his tight grip, as she mentally berated herself for being caught off guard by a fifteen year old. She mentally groaned as she realized that Moody was right there, and that he was going to give her hell for this.

Dammit, Harry! She cursed him, mentally.

'Potter, let her go. Dumbledore sent us to rescue you.' The man with the deep voice said. Harry grinned ferally.

'Sure, sounds like a perfect excuse for Death Eaters to get me out of here. What do you have to say Mad-Eye?' He asked the ex-Auror sarcastically. Moody grinned at him, his grizzled face looking that much more terrifying with that.

'...Impressive that you get of hold of Tonks. Constant Vigilance, that's good, son.' He praised. Harry momentarily felt proud at getting complimented by Alastor Moody himself, and no Barty Crouch Jr. does not count, before he shoved it down.

'That's all well and good, but how do I know that you are who you say you are, Mad-Eye?' Tonks groaned.

'Harry, let me go! Seriously, we were sent here by Dumbledore.' She said, Moody narrowed his eyes at the girl.

'Yes, Harry, let-'

'Kingsley, stop it.' another man's hoarse voice stopped the dark-skinned Auror dead in his tracks, a voice that Harry recognized immediately.

Remus Lupin emerged from the dark, flames in his hand, just like the time when he had first seen the man. Harry looked at his former teacher with wide eyes. Though still quite young, Lupin looked tired and rather ill; he had more gray hair than when Harry had said good-bye to him, and his robes were more patched and shabbier than ever. Nevertheless, he was smiling broadly at Harry.

'Moony?' Remus looked momentarily surprised that Harry had used his Marauder name rather than 'Professor Lupin', Tonks used his surprise to use her other leg and kick him in the left shin. Hard.

'Gah!' Harry cried out in pain, not at all stopping to rub or clutch his shin, but simply pointed his wand at Tonks. However, he was shocked to find a wand pointed right at his neck, the tip glowing a dim red. Tonks was holding her wand, pointing right at his neck.

Tonks smirked as she pushed the wand into his neck, and saw his Adam's Apple bulge and reduce as he swallowed nervously. Never in his life, had he been outclassed so easily. Every duel he had been in, not counting Voldemort, had been slightly challenging to dead easy, with opponents ranging from Daphne Greengrass, though her Potions were probably her best skill, to Ron and Neville, as harsh as it sounded, both had always been easy for him. Harry had always had the upper hand with his cunning spell casting and agility that he had gained by running from Dudley and his gang, as evidenced by the fact that he had caught Tonks, probably the strongest woman in the Order of Phoenix off-guard. Not to mention a trained Auror, though a rookie.

He had always had the upper hand with every opponent, but this time, Tonks had horribly out-matched him.

There are much stronger people out there, damn she caught me off-guard so easily... He mused idly. Harry watched the pink-haired Auror nervously, but outwardly he had a blank face on.

'If I was a Death Eater you would be dead.' Tonks said in a cheerful tone. Harry deadpanned.

'Yeah, only you can be so cheerful while threatening someone, Tonks.' Tonks smiled at him, and was about to speak, but Remus spoke up quickly.

'Well, Harry?' Harry was pretty sure that all of them were not Death Eaters, but... why not ask the question.

'What is my Patronus form, Remus?' Harry asked. Remus smiled a bit.

'It's a Stag.' Harry nodded.

Harry sighed in relief as Tonks lowered her wand, and rubbed her neck, 'Alright, alright. You've convinced me.' Harry said, Remus smiled broadly and walked forward and instead of shaking Harry's hand, he hugged him. Neither of them had hugged a lot of people, but Remus noticed the way Harry tensed immediately, but made a rather valiant effort of hugging him back. Remus let go and Tonks took a good look at Harry wearing only knee length shorts.

'Ooh, you've grown up well, Harry.' She said huskily. Harry gulped, a faint blush rising in his cheeks, he was about to reply but was cut off by the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat.

'Tonks, for god's sake.' Moody growled. Tonks gained a sheepish look on her beautiful face.

Remus looked between the two, 'You two know each other?' Tonks nodded happily.

'Yep! He was in his First Year when I was in my Seventh. He looked so adorable coming to me and asking my the direction to the Charms class.' Harry scowled at her, but inwardly felt warmth, realizing that Tonks had remembered him from all those years ago.

Remus nodded, 'Well, come on out and we'll introduce you to the rest.' He said. Tonks nodded in agreement.

'Alright, Harry. Get dressed! We'll meet you outside.' She informed him, and Harry nodded, shoving his blush down and rummaging around for the clothes that fit him as soon as he heard the door click shut.

Putting on some black t-shirt and a black wristband that Bill Weasley had given him last year, along with some blue jeans and white sneakers, he into the living room of Number Four. Harry paused for a moment to open the window and felt the cool breeze on his pale skin.

Harry felt very conscious of all the looks he was getting from the others, and he tried his best to give them all a polite inclination of the head. He stopped in front of them and gave Tonks and apologetic smile, 'Sorry about that, Tonks. I just... get a bit paranoid.' He said to the Metamorphmagus.

Tonks waved him off, 'It's all good. I just don't like the fact that you got to feel me up but didn't return the favor.' Harry stiffened, heat rising in his pale cheeks. It was true, his arm had squeezed her breasts as he held her hostage. Tonks grinned in victory while Moody shook his head.

'We are leaving, aren't we?' he asked. 'Soon?'

'Almost at once,' said Lupin, 'we're just waiting for the all-clear.' Harry looked confused.

'What are we waiting for, a whistle?' He asked dryly. Remus chuckled.

'You'll see. Anyway, I'm sure you know, this is Alastor Moody.' Harry nodded awkwardly.

'Yeah, good to see the real you, Prof-Moody.' He stopped himself from calling him Professor. The man who had taught him for an entire year was not Alastor Moody, but Barty Crouch Jr., not really a great memory.

'If you say so, sonny.' Alastor grunted.

'You already know, Tonks.' Tonks threw an arm around the boy, ignoring the tensing of his body.

'And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt' — he indicated the tall black wizard, who bowed — 'Elphias Doge' — the wheezy-voiced wizard nodded — 'Dedalus Diggle —'

'We've met before,' squeaked the excitable Diggle, dropping his top hat.

'— Emmeline Vance' — a stately looking witch in an emerald green shawl inclined her head — 'Sturgis Podmore' — a square-jawed wizard with thick, straw-colored hair winked —'and Hestia Jones.' A pink-cheeked, black-haired witch waved from next to the toaster.

Harry inclined his head awkwardly at each of them as they were introduced. He wished they would look at something other than him; it was as though he had suddenly been ushered onstage. He also wondered why so many of them were there.

'A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you,' said Lupin, as though he had read Harry's mind; the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.

'Yeah, well, the more the better,' said Moody darkly. 'We're your guard, Potter.'

'We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off,' said Lupin, glancing out of the kitchen window. Harry too, looked out of the window, but blinked when he didn't see anything. What exactly were they waiting for?

'How're we getting — wherever we're going?' Harry asked. The Burrow was out of the question, since he was sure that it would've been the Weasley's who would come to pick him up.

'Brooms,' said Lupin, seeing Harry's flat look, he added 'Only way. You're too young to Apparate, they'll be watching the Floo Network, and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorized Portkey.'

'Remus says you're a good flier,' said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep voice. Harry blushed slightly.

'Eh, I'm not bad, I guess.' He waved it off awkwardly, 'But I guess flying is better than Portkeys.' He added, making all of them look at him weirdly. Tonks looked surprised, before she laughed.

'Come on, is Harry Potter scared of portkeys?' She crooned. Harry glared at her.

'More like I absolutely hate them. I wonder how many times they make you trip, Nymphadora?' He replied. Tonks blinked, before she growled and her hair turned orange. Kingsley sighed, hoping that the woman would not kill Harry, but her response surprised him.

'Don't call me Nymphadora, baby green!' Harry's eye twitched at the nickname the woman had given him during his First Year.

'Whatever you say, punk rock wannabe.' He quipped. Tonks glared at him.

'Baby Potter, let's go to our hideout so we can change your diaper.' She mocked him. Harry scowled.

'Watch out, now, you might have to breastfeed me if I'm a baby.' He mock threatened, before realizing what he just said and flushed a bright scarlet. Tonks, too flushed brightly, before opening her mouth to say,

'Damn, I didn't know you had such fetishes, Harry.'

'No comment, Tonks.' He said with a still flushed face as the rest looked on in amusement. Remus recovered from his laughter quick at their by-play.

'We've got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, I've left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry —'

'No, they won't," said Harry, dismissively.

'That you're safe —'

'Sure, they might have a field trip.' He replied sarcastically.

'— and you'll see them next summer.' Harry groaned.

'Do I have to?' Lupin smiled but made no answer.

'Come here, boy,' said Moody gruffly, beckoning Harry toward him with his wand. 'I need to Disillusion you.' Harry blinked, but went towards him cautiously. He wouldn't be surprised if the man suddenly cast a Stupefy at him to enforce 'Constant Vigilance!'

Moody noticed his tense look and snorted, 'Relax boy, I'm not going to curse you.' Harry scoffed.

'Constant Vigilance, remember?' He said, fingering his wand. Moody grunted in agreement, and hit Harry on his head, hard. Harry felt like the man had smashed an egg on top of his head, and he felt a tingling sensation in his body.

Harry looked down, noticing that his body had become like that of the Chameleon he had seen on the TV sometimes.

'...Cool.'

-x-x-x-

'So, is this like the Batcave or something like that?' Harry asked Tonks, lightly. He had lost track of time, and wondered how long they had been flying; it felt like an hour at least.

Tonks snickered, 'Nope, just a regular house I'm afraid. A bit gloomy, if you will.' Harry saw the grim and foreboding look of the fronts of some of the houses, and could very well see that to be the case. Some of them had broken windows, glimmering dully in the light from the streetlamps, paint was peeling from many of the doors, and heaps of rubbish lay outside several sets of front steps.

'...Dracula's castle?' He guessed.

'Something like that, a bit less though, blood, that is.' She replied as Moody gave Harry a piece of parchment. Harry stared at it.

'What's this...?'

'Don't ask too many questions, Potter.' He growled, Harry's brow furrowed and he read the paper and blinked.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. He read it in his mind, so as not to annoy Mad-Eye Moody, of all people, any more than he already had.

Alastor snatched the paper out of his hand, making Harry stare at his hand, dumbly. The other's shook their head resignedly as Moody set fire to the parchment. Harry didn't really know why exactly did the ex-Auror did that, but he didn't say anything. Barty Crouch's imitation of Moody might be convincing, but the real Moody took all of that acting and took it to an extreme never heard before.

Harry looked around at the houses again. They were standing outside number eleven; he looked to the left and saw number ten; to the right, however, was number thirteen.

'But where's — ?'

'Think about what you've just memorized,' said Lupin quietly. Harry thought, and no sooner had he reached the part about number twelve, Grimmauld Place, than a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way. Harry gaped at it. The stereo in number eleven thudded on. Apparently the Muggles inside hadn't even felt anything.

Harry looked at it with a look of awe in his eyes. Fidelius Charm He realized. He had read about that Charm out of mild curiosity. Though he didn't know much about it, he knew that it conceals the location of the place that only the Secret-Keeper knew.

'...Nice.'

'Come on, hurry,' growled Moody, prodding Harry in the back.

Harry walked up the worn stone steps, staring at the newly materialized door. Its black paint was shabby and scratched. The silver door knocker was in the form of a twisted serpent. There was no keyhole or letterbox. Lupin pulled out his wand and tapped the door once. Harry heard many loud, metallic clicks and what sounded like the clatter of a chain. The door creaked open.

'Get in quick, Harry,' Lupin whispered. 'But don't go far inside and don't touch anything.' Harry stepped over the threshold into the almost total darkness of the hall. He could smell damp, dust, and a sweet, rotting smell; the place had the feeling of a derelict building. He looked over his shoulder and saw the others filing in behind him. Tonks had shrunk both his trunk and Hedwig's cage and had given it to him, both of which he had kept in his pocket.

'Here —' Before Harry could even register what happened Moody rapped Harry hard over the head with his wand; Harry felt as though something hot was trickling down his back this time and knew that the Disillusionment Charm must have lifted.

'Dammit, old man!' Moody grinned at him, nearly making Harry shudder at all those scars that made the grizzled Auror look like a psycho killer from some Muggle Movie.

'Now stay still, everyone, while I give us a bit of light in here,' Moody whispered. The others' hushed voices were giving Harry an odd feeling of foreboding; it was as though they had just entered the house of a dying person. He heard a soft hissing noise and then old-fashioned gas lamps sputtered into life all along the walls, casting a flickering insubstantial light over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet of a long, gloomy hallway, where a cobwebby chandelier glimmered overhead and age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls. Harry heard something scuttling behind the baseboard. Both the chandelier and the candelabra on a rickety table nearby were shaped like serpents.

There were hurried footsteps and Ron's mother, Mrs. Weasley, emerged from a door at the far end of the hall. She was beaming in welcome as she hurried toward them, though Harry noticed that she was rather thinner and paler than she had been last time he had seen her. 'Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you!' she whispered, pulling him into a rib-cracking hug before holding him at arm's length and examining him critically. 'You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid...' Harry smiled politely.

'It's fine, Mrs Weasley. I can... wait...' Harry trailed off as soon as he saw the black-haired wizard behind the door that Mrs. Weasley had just arrived from. A smile instantly took place on his face, when he recognized the shabby, yet much better looking form of Sirius Black, his Godfather.

'Padfoot...' He whispered, and began to walk towards the door. Molly noticed this, and stopped him, though it pained her, in multiple ways, for Harry to ignore her and walk towards someone else. Molly grudgingly acknowledged that Sirius had more claim over Harry than she ever did or ever will.

She turned to the gang of wizards behind him and whispered urgently, 'He's just arrived, the meeting's started...' The wizards behind Harry all made noises of interest and excitement and began filing past Harry toward the door through which Molly had just come. Harry frowned when Molly stopped him from following them.

'No, Harry, the meeting's only for members of the Order. Ron and Hermione are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting's over and then we'll have dinner. And keep your voice down in the hall,' she added in an urgent whisper.

'Why?'

'I don't want to wake anything up.' Harry tilted his head.

'Huh?'

She shook her head, 'Just remember to keep your voice down. You're the door on the right, on the floor above. I'll call you when it's over' She said gently. Harry frowned deeper and looked at the now, closed door. He didn't even get to say hi to his godfather. He sighed, knowing Molly Weasley long enough to realize that there was no arguing with her.

'...Alright.' Molly gave him a quick smile and walked back towards the door, glancing behind her often to make sure that he wasn't following her. Harry sighed again, realizing that he had been doing a lot of that over the past summer, and began to walk up the stairs that Molly had directed him to.

He started up the dark staircase, passing a row of shrunken heads mounted on plaques on the wall. A closer look showed Harry that the heads belonged to house-elves. All of them had the same rather snout like nose. Harry's bewilderment deepened with every step he took. What on earth were they doing in a house that looked as though it belonged to the Darkest of wizards?

My god. Dracula's Castle? This place makes it look like a picnic spot... He thought, as he fought down the urge to vomit. He opened the door that Molly had told him about.

He caught a brief glimpse of a gloomy high-ceilinged, twin-bedded room, then there was a loud twittering noise, followed by an even louder shriek, and his vision was completely obscured by a large quantity of very bushy hair — Hermione had thrown herself onto him in a hug that nearly knocked him flat, while Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, zoomed excitedly round and round their heads.

'HARRY! Ron, he's here, Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how are you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless — but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got to tell us — the dementors! When we heard — and that Ministry hearing — it's just outrageous, I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations-'

She just told me everything I wanted to ask her in one breath. He thought dryly, as Ron commented after a chuckle.

'Let the man breathe, Hermione.' He said grinning at Harry. Before Harry could reply, there was a soft and elegant 'hoot' and a beautiful snowy-white Owl landed on Harry's shoulder gently. Harry, already smiling, looked at his shoulder to find his owl.

'Hedwig.' He said fondly. The snowy owl clicked her beak and nibbled his ear affectionately as Harry stroked her feathers.

'She's been in a right state,' said Ron. 'Pecked us half to death when she brought your last letters, look at this —' He showed Harry the index finger of his right hand, which sported a half-healed but clearly deep cut.

'Oh yeah,' Harry said. 'Sorry about that, but I wanted answers, you know...'

'We wanted to give them to you, mate,' said Ron.

'Hermione was going spare, she kept saying you'd do something stupid if you were stuck all on your own without news, but Dumbledore made us—'

'— swear not to tell me,' said Harry, coldly. 'Yeah, Hermione's already said.' Both of them flinched at his icy tone, but couldn't seem to come up with a reply.

There was an awkward silence in which Harry stroked Hedwig automatically, not looking at either of the others. 'He seemed to think it was best,' said Hermione rather breathlessly.

'Dumbledore, I mean.'

'Of course he did,' said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig's beak and found that he was not at all sorry.

'I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles-' Ron began.

'Yeah?' said Harry, raising his eyebrows, before he scoffed. 'Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?'

'Well, no-'

'Didn't think so.' He replied as he pulled out Hedwig's cage, and began to wonder how the hell he was going to make it come back to size.

'But Harry, you really were the safest there! There were people from the Order of the Phoenix trail you all the time!' Hermione replied indignantly. Harry stiffened.

So the odd feeling of being watched throughout the Summer was not my imagination, after all. People had been following him all along. All throughout Muggle World and no one told him about it. He had to watch himself everywhere, as if he expected Voldemort to pop out any moment. But all that evaporated when he realized that there were grown adults stalking him, but not a single one did anything about the Dementors!

Right now, every speck of warmth he had felt at the sight of Hermione and Ron had vanished and he felt cold.

'Well, they were a ton of help.' He replied sarcastically, 'Not one of them, not even Tonks, did anything about the Dementors! If they were following me all along, everywhere I go, then why the bloody hell didn't they do anything about it?! Why didn't anyone tell me anything about Voldemort?!' Harry demanded. Little did he know, his eyes were turning a dim golden color around the edges.

Both Ron and Hermione were struck by his question, not knowing how to answer him without angering him even more. They had never seen their friend in such a way before, he was always the calm and collected one.

'Harry, the Death Eaters-' Hermione began again, but Harry cut her off.

'Hermione, you are a Muggle-born. Have you ever looked into the phonebook. I'm sure there are not many Harry Potter's in the area.' Harry added with a deep scowl, as Hermione paled. She had never thought of using a phone, and certainly hadn't thought about the fact that you only had to look through the phone book to find him.

'Dumbledore was furious. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.'

'Well, I'm glad he left,' Harry said coldly. 'If he hadn't, I wouldn't have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.'

'Aren't you . . . aren't you worried about the Ministry of Magic hearing?' said Hermione quietly.

'The Ministry can kiss my arse, for all I care.' Hermione gasped at that. He walked away from them, looking around, with Hedwig nestled contentedly on his shoulder, but this room was not likely to raise his spirits. It was dank and dark. A blank stretch of canvas in an ornate picture frame was all that relieved the bareness of the peeling walls and as Harry passed it he thought he heard someone lurking out of sight snigger.

'So exactly why is the great Albus I-have-too-many-middle-names Dumbledore so hell-bent on keeping me in the dark?' He asked with a mock-curious expression on his face as he sat down on one of the charis, 'Surely you must have asked him?' He wondered.

Both of them exchanged a look, 'We told him that we wanted to tell you about everything that is going on, mate.' Ron began, 'But he just made us swear not to tell you anything important.' He said nervously.

Hermione nodded timidly, 'Harry, the owls could've been intercepted.' She protested, not wanting to see Harry's cold look directed at her. Harry scoffed.

'The phone must be really hard for a witch to use, right Hermione?' Harry asked mockingly, 'Clearly, I've that there is a new Iphone on the market. With what I have, I might be able to buy one. I think I will. I mean it's not like anyone would call me. Apparently, owls are the only way to communicate with people.' He said sarcastically.

Hermione looked to be about in tears at his cold tone, and his thorough dress-down.

Ron protested, 'But Harry, these 'pnhoes' might not be safe! Muggle's can't be as good as Wizards at communication.'

Harry looked at Ron as if he was an idiot, 'I'm not even going to dignify that with a response, Ron. As for Dumbledore... maybe he thinks I can't be trusted.' Ron and Hermione gasped.

'But mate, why would he think that?' Ron looked appalled that Harry would even think about something like that. Harry continued like Ron hadn't spoke.

'Clearly, he must think I can't take care of myself.' He wondered.

'No Harry, of course he doesn't think that!' said Hermione anxiously. Harry gave her a look.

'No? Then why the hell do I have to stay with my horse of an Aunt and her tosser of a husband and their adopted pig? Why do you get to know everything? Isn't your family in danger too, Hermione? From what Dumbledore tells me, Number Four has Blood Wards, while yours don't. From what I can gather, your family is in more danger than me. How come you can get to know everything that is going on?' He asked her, his voice growing higher and higher as both of them shrunk back, 'And what about your Ron? Your family does not live in the Muggle world, they live right here, don't they? And unless you Fidelius the Burrow, everybody knows where it is! WHY THE HELL WOULD HE KEEP ME IN THE DARK?!' He demanded angrily.

'Harry-'

'Oh sure, he must think I'm too young in his millennium old eyes!' He growled. Hermione's eyes were sparkling with tears. Hedwig had long soared off his shoulder in fright and huddled over a cupboard while Pig was flying around faster and in alarm. The items around the house were shaking. The cups on the end tables were shaking. Even the beds were shaking at Harry's fury.

'Harry, you-'

'SHUT UP, RON! THAT OLD TWIT DOESN'T THINK I SHOULD BE LET IN ON WHAT'S GOING ON, THEN SCREW HIM! I'VE BEEN THROUGH MORE THAN EITHER OF YOU HAVE WHO SAVED THE SORCERER'S STONE, AGAIN?! WHO SAVED YOUR SISTER FROM RIDDLE?! WHO KILLED A BASILISK WITH A SWORD?! WHO SAVED YOUR SKINS FROM DEMENTORS?! THAT'S RIGHT! ME! AND DUMBLEDORE THINKS THAT I SHOULD BE KEPT IN DARK!'

Both of his best friends were backing off and eyeing his right hand with fright in their eyes. Every bitter and resentful thought that Harry had had in the past month was pouring out of him; his frustration at the lack of news, the hurt that they had all been together without him, his fury at being followed and not told about it: All the feelings he was half-ashamed of finally burst their boundaries.

'Harry, he told us you were not ready-'

'Not ready?' Harry asked incredulously, before laughing bitterly, 'Not ready? So I was ready when I had to fight a Dragon? When I faced a bloody Sphinx, when I faced him?' He demanded.

Hermione finally shed tears at her best friends anger, she felt a pain in her heart at his furious expression. Never had that expression been directed at her. At anyone. But the fact that she was one of the people it was directed at, his anger was directed at, made her feeling like she was the worst person in the world.

Ron was watching his right hand warily, 'Harry your hand...' Harry snapped his head towards him and glared at him.

Harry looked down at his right hand and his eyes widened. There were blue lightning sparks around his fingers, dancing from one finger to another. He looked back at them, before his eyes softened at Hermione's sniffing. He looked back down at the lightning.

'What the bloody hell is that?' Ron asked.

'Lightning in my hands? I have no idea.' He blinked as it suddenly went out. Hermione sniffed again, and Harry sighed.

'Nevermind that, is any one you going to tell me about his place, or do I have to find out from Sirius?' He asked dryly.

'Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix,' said Ron at once, ignoring the fact that Harry thought they wouldn't tell him such mundane things.

'Right, and what is this 'Order of Phoenix' anyway, some kind of dance club?' Ron chuckled weakly and shut up instantly when both Harry and Hermione glared at him.

'It's a secret society,' said Hermione quickly. 'Dumbledore's in charge, he founded it. It's the people who fought against You-Know-Who last time.'

'Who's in it?' said Harry, coming to a halt with his hands in his pockets.

'Quite a few people —'

'— we've met about twenty of them,' said Ron, 'but we think there are more...'

'Speaking of Lord no-nose, what exactly can you tell me? If anything.' Harry asked.

'Not much, we've already told you, we are not allowed into the meetings. They call speak about it in hushed manner. But we know a bit, Fred and George made these things, these Extendable Ears.' Harry raised an eyebrow.

'Go on.'

Ron nodded, 'We know that there are members that are keeping tabs on known Death Eaters, Malfoy, Nott Sr., Crabbe, Goyle, and such, some of the members are looking around for people who are willing to join the Order. Some of them are working hard to protect something. We don't know what that is.' Ron admitted.

Harry raised both of his eyebrows, 'Oh gee, I wonder, who could it be? Maybe me?' He put in sarcastically.

Ron gained a sheepish look on his face, 'Oh, yeah. Must be you. Anyway, we don't know anymore since mum found out about those Ears and was furious to say the least. Fred and George have been trying really hard to get in, or eavesdrop into the meetings but they've not had much success.' Harry nodded grudgingly, it was much more than what he had expected from them.

'So what exactly have you been doing? Other than laughing around and eavesdropping, that is.' He asked them, neutrally.

'We've been trying to decontaminate this house, it's been empty for ages and stuff's been breeding in here. We've managed to clean out the kitchen, most of the bedrooms, and I think we're doing the drawing room tomo — AARGH!' She screamed when two cracks came from behind her.

Before the new entries could even get a word out, Fred found a wand pressed to his throat, and George froze. Both of them looked wide-eyed at Harry, who had got between the twins and Hermione before either could even blink. They hadn't even noticed him getting his wand out!

'Easy there, Harry-' Fred began.

'We meant no harm-' George continued.

'We thought we heard your dulcet tones-'

'So we came to give you a visit.' George finished. Harry put his wand down and looked at, what he could honestly say, were his favorite of the Weasleys.

'Sorry, Fred or George.' He corrected himself before they can. Fred waved him off.

'No problem, Harry-'

'You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, Harry, let it all out-'

'There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you-'

'But want to hear something more interesting?' He asked with a face-splitting grin on his face. Harry raised his eyebrow when he saw the ear hanging off a flesh colored string. He slowly nodded, but wondered if it even worked.

'Sure, I guess.' He replied.

Both of them gave him a cheshire cat like grin and headed off towards the staircase. Hermione and Ron rolled their eyes at another attempt at their eavesdropping. Well, it was still worth a try, they supposed.

Fred lowered the ear down the staircase. Harry looked skeptical about whether or not it would actually work, but thought that it might be worth a try. The twins were really brilliant despite what their grades might suggest, he knew that if they tried they might be the best at Potions and Transfiguration.

'Hey, Harry!' A perky female voice said from Harry's right. Harry turned, already knowing who it was. Sure enough, it was Ginny Weasley. But it wasn't the Ginny Weasley he remembered,

Damn... He thought as he gazed at Ginny. Her slightly tanned skin, on high display with her black tank-top and blue jeans short that put her long legs on clear display. Her hair was tied into a loose ponytails, with two bangs on either side of her face. Harry had never really seen how cute she was.

He grinned at her, making her blush, slightly less, much to his surprise than last year, 'Hey, Ginny.'

Ginny came to a stop next to him so that she was between him and George. She blinked when she saw the string and the ear connected to it, before sighing and giving an exasperated look at Fred and George. To be honest, Harry was surprised that she was even talking in his presence without stuttering.

'Really? You're trying this again?' She asked.

'Oh dear sister-'

'Don't be so innocent-'

'We know that you've been trying to get in there-'

'Using different Charms-'

'And all that-'

'Besides, this'll work-'

'Mum probably doesn't expect us to do this again-'

'So she wouldn't have guarded anything!' Both of them finished. Harry who had been watching both of them like a tennis match was amused, but quickly cleared his throat.

'Well, let's try shall we, Gred, Forge?' He asked the twins. Both of them smirked and let the string with the large ear down.

All of them leaned towards George, all of them looking giddy and with a rush of adrenaline. They all wanted to know what the hell was going on with the Dark Lord that had returned and what the Ministry was going to do about it.

As soon as the Ear was a feet off the ground, Harry heard what was undoubtedly Sirius' voice, '...If anyone has a right to know it's Harry! If it wasn't for him, wouldn't have even known that Voldemort has returned!' He seemed to pause, 'He's not a child, Molly!' Harry nodded in agreement.

'He's not an adult either!' Came the unmistakable voice of Molly Weasley in her shrill tone, 'He's not James, Sirius!' Harry stiffened at the mention of his father. The rest of the Weasley's looked awkward and uncomfortable at their mother casually saying that to Sirius.

'He's not your son, either!' Sirius seemed to yell.

'He's as good as!'

'Just as good as? That does not make him your son, he is my godson!'

'Meow!'

Meow? Thought the whole group as they looked down at the other end of the ear, and all of their eyes widened when they saw Hermione's pet cat-kneazle, Crookshanks trying to catch the ear. Hermione made a strangled sound.

'Bad Crookshanks!' She reprimanded. Harry looked at her strangely.

'Let go you stupid cat!' Ron hissed.

'Why are you getting so worked up? It doesn't seem like an important meeting anyway.' Ginny commented as she looked at each of them.

'It's the last one we have.' Harry was getting annoyed at this. This day had already been worse that a lot of days he has had. He sighed in annoyance as the cat snapped the string and wandered off with the ear.

He grunted when Hermione groaned and held her head in her hands as Ron commented how much he hated that cat. Harry shoved his hand into his pockets and turned around towards the stairs. He didn't notice Ginny follow him, until she bumped into his back when Molly came up to meet them.

'The dinner is downstair-GINEVRA WEASLEY WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?!' She shrieked when she saw Ginny. Ginny threw an annoyed look at her, when she heard it, as Harry tried his hardest not to look annoyed. How was the woman so loud anyway?

But wait, didn't she just tell him to keep quiet on the staircase?

'FILTHY BLOOD TRAITORS! HALF-BREEDS! WEREWOLVES!-' Harry put his hand over his ears to filter out the loud shrieking. He was vaguely aware of the curtains opening so quick that a gust of wind hit him, and Ginny covering her own ears.

'Oh, god, who set her off?!' Came a man's voice as soon as he heard the voice of his dear mother. Sirius Black came up running up the stairs in his dog form in order to give the one who set the portrait off a piece of his Azkaban addled-mind, but stopped when he saw his godson, his godson's friend Ginny and Molly in front of the portrait. He groaned when the woman in the portrait gained a glimpse of him.

'YOU! YOU BLOOD TRAITOR, FILTHY MUGGLE LOVER! HOW DARE YOU BRING SUCH FILTH INTO MY HOUSE! GET THEM ALL OUT RIGHT NOW!' The portrait of Walburga Black demanded. Sirius glared at the portrait, but she screamed even louder when he moved forward to put the curtain over it.

'YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE! NO SON OF MINE WOULD BE LIKE YOU! YOU FILTHY BLOOD-TRA-'

'SHUT THE FUCK UP!' Harry shouted over the woman's screaming. The portrait shut up immediately, as Molly gaped at him. Ginny looked relieved that the portrait had finally shut up, and didn't really looked like she cared how it happened.

Sirius, for his part, looked concerned at Harry. The fifteen-year old boy was always calm and collected, but he had lost his temper so soon after he had returned. That was concerning. His eyes widened when he saw his hand.

Harry's right hand was cackling with lightning once again. Harry didn't look like he noticed, he just kept glaring at the woman, who seemed to whimper.

'You will shut up. You will shut up right now, and only speak when you are spoken to. Do you get it?' He snarled at her, the lightning spread over to his elbow and was cackling madly. His right eye turned golden at the edges and he looked mad.

'Do you get it?' He repeated with a growl. The woman whimpered once again, before she got a good look at his right hand, before she screamed. The curtain shut itself immediately and Harry was left there panting, feeling drained. It was Sirius who broke the silence that followed.

'Harry?' Sirius asked, kindly. The lightning was now only jumping from one finger to another. Harry looked up to find Sirius' face.

'Padfoot?' Sirius nodded uncertainly.

'Harry, your hand.' Ginny said timidly. Harry blinked and looked down on his hand. It was cackling again, just like last time he got angry. What was going on with him? What was wrong with him? Harry began to feel light-headed.

'Harry!' Sirius shouting his name was the last thing he heard, before he lost consciousness.

-x-x-x-x-

Well, that went better than I expected it to.

Leave a review.