A/N: So this is my first real Harry Potter fanfiction. It starts at the beginning of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, where Harry and Dudley encounter a couple of dementors, but quickly takes it's own turn (as you will soon discover). You might find the first few chapters rather odd, but please do read on~! I assure you it should get better ^_^
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of it's characters or places or themes etc. I do use part of the original text here (ie. some dialogue) but I don't own any of it.
"Well, he was asking for it," snarled Dudley.
Harry tensed his jaw, trying so hard to resist the urge to slap his cousin. "And how old was he, ten?"
Dudley made an odd sound, half way between a snort and a laugh. Harry turned to him.
"He was asking for it. He was giving us cheek."
"Sure, sure," said Harry. "Seems like everyone's asking for it nowadays."
Dudley's face reddened and his breathing sped up. Harry smiled to himself. But Dudley wasn't looking at him, he was looking straight ahead, eyes slightly dazed.
Harry turned his head down the alley, squinting into the darkness. Then the air around them turned cold, biting at Harry's skin. He blinked slowly, and when he opened his eyes the whole world had turned black.
It took him a long moment to register what had happened.
"Harry?" whispered Dudley. "Harry, stop. Stop it."
Harry gulped. "I-I'm not doing anything."
"What are you doing? I'll tell dad, I will. He'll kill you, and ‒"
"Shut up," he hissed. "I'm trying to ‒"
"I'll hit you, Harry. I can't see. I can't see a THING. What have you ‒?"
"Shut up, you idiot," he said. "I'm trying to listen for ‒"
But then he heard it: a horrible, drawn out, rattling breath.
"Shoot," he whispered.
Harry felt around in his back pocket, his stomach sinking as he realised he must have left his wand at home. Or dropped it! His wand. Now what would he do? He could die. They could both die.
Then Harry heard tentative footsteps behind him. There was a flash of blue light and the alley was illuminated in weak, silvery glow. It was just about light enough for Harry to make out the two hooded monsters in front of him.
A man jumped in front of Harry and a shuddering Dudley, pushing them both back. Dudley fell backwards with a thump.
The man pointed a wand at the dementors, almost screaming the charm.
"EXPECTO PATROMUM." His voice was low and rough, but his patronus, surprisingly (it was a surprise to Harry, at least), took the form of a kitten. It pounced around playfully in a flash of silver light, clawing at the black, hooded monsters.
For a small, fleeting moment Harry thought the short redheaded man standing in front of him was a Weasley. He blinked a few times, wondering why on earth Charlie was here. Wasn't he supposed to be in Romania?
Then the man turned around. Right, not Charlie. Definitely not Charlie.
"Y'all right, boy?" the man asked, accent thick and unfamiliar to Harry. The man's breath was heavy, eyes wide.
He nodded silently, staring into bright green eyes – much brighter than his own.
"Wha' 'bout your friend, there? Is he okay?"
Harry turned to Dudley, who was curled up on the floor.
"H-he'll be fine," said Harry, turning back to the wizard. "Th-thank you so much for that, sir."
The man nodded. "Well, sorry boy, but seeing as you're a muggle I'll have to erase your ‒"
"I'm not a muggle," exclaimed Harry. "I'm a wizard."
The man frowned, feeling around in his back pocket. "Then you should learn to defend yourself, my boy. Dementors are not very nice creatures. You need to be able to cast a patronus charm. Mine is a cat, as you saw. I'm not sure what yours could be. Maybe a squirrel, or a seagull perhaps. You look like a seagull sort o' fella." He moved his hand to a different pocket, eyes narrowing in concentration. Then he pulled out his hand, holding a wand. "This must be yours."
Harry looked up, a smile overtaking his face. "Thank you. I thought I'd lost it."
"What about wandless magic?" he asked. "Surely you're capable of that."
"I'm not allowed to use magic at home yet. Still underage."
The man cocked an eyebrow and his face crinkled up, seemingly in disgust. "Underage? That's a first. Never heard o' that one before. Underage, you say? What age would this 'underage' be?"
Harry blinked a couple of times. "Eh, well you have to be 17 to use magic outside of school. But I think that sometimes ‒"
The man perked up. "School? You go to a school, boy?"
Harry suddenly felt rather insulted. Why was this man so surprised he attended school? "Yeah. Hogwarts."
The man laughed, eyes lighting up with glee. "Th-that's very good. Why, I do believe I am supposed to be teaching at Hogwarts this year. Or studying. I do forget. Say, what house are you in? Gryffindor?"
Harry smiled, starting to feel slightly more at ease with this peculiar man. "Yeah, I'm in Gryffindor."
The man's face lit up even more. "That is good, my boy. Very good. I was a Gryffindor, myself. Back when Minnie was a babe, ha ha!"
Harry nodded, not too sure how to respond. "Ah."
"I played Quidditch, too. Though not much in school. I was a Keeper."
Harry nodded. "Th-that's nice."
"You play?" he asked, raising a furry, ginger eyebrow.
Harry smiled. "Seeker."
The man smiled back. "Well I'm sure we'll get along very well. As I said, back when I was a bit younger I played Quidditch. Mind you, back then the rules were very different indeed."
Harry nodded slowly, looking back down at his cousin who was now staring up at him with some kind of dazed wonder in his eyes. Harry shook his head and looked back up to the redheaded man.
"Can you help me take him home?" asked Harry. "I think he's going to be sick."
"Sure, my boy. Where do you ‒?"
Then Harry heard light footsteps from behind him. Both he and the man turned sharply.
A/N: So, what do you think? What do you think of 'Tufty'? Who is he? . . . And what do you think will happen to him?