This story is basically canon, except on a different time period. Imagine everything that happened before OotP was pushed back a bit. In Harry's second year, Sirius broke out of Azkaban and Remus started teaching at Hogwarts. So Harry killed the basilisk and found out about Tom Riddle at the first half of the year. Then during the second half of the year, Gilderoy Lockhart was fired and for the rest of the year Lupin taught there. At the end of Harry's second year, he met Sirius. Then in Harry's third year he was in the Triwizard Tournament. So everything that happened in the books still happened in the story, but over a different time period. So this story is basically Order of the Phoenix, except Harry is only 14. It sounds pointless for him to be younger, but I have my reasons, believe me. I'm sorry if I explained it in a confusing way.
Harry Potter fell out of the fireplace of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place and landed in the kitchen with a slam. He'd expected to see Sirius, Remus and a few other Order members sitting around the table, drinking tea or discussing Voldemort. He was utterly surprised to see the kitchen was empty and all was quiet. He peered around, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness of the dusty old house. The gloomy grayness was a sharp contrast to the overwhelming amount of pink in Umbridge's office. And believe it or not, he preferred the gloominess. As he rubbed Floo powder off his neck, he strained his ears for any signs of life within the dark house. Where was Sirius?
A panicked thought crept up in his mind: What if he was sick of being locked up here? What if he snuck out? What if Death Eaters caught him, or the Ministry? What if he went back to Azkaban? He's the only family I have...
Harry moved into the hallway and looked into the parlor. There didn't seem to be anyone there, either.
Something's off. Harry realized.
A part of him wanted to shout Sirius' name to see if he was there, but he stopped himself. What if Grimmauld Place was raided by Death Eaters? What if there was some sort of trap? It was unlikely, but it was possible. Why else would the house be completely silent? So instead of yelling for somebody, he took out his wand and quietly walked down the hallway.
He stopped at the staircase and looked up. The top of the stairs disappeared into darkness. There were no sounds coming from up there, either. Harry stayed still for a moment, listening to his heart pounding in his ears, like a hammer against fabric.
The sound of a floorboard creaking behind him forced his reflexes into 'attack mode.' He spun around quickly, heart racing in fear, and raised his wand.
A stranger stood in front of him, staring at him in the strangest way. Harry couldn't even place what emotion was on this stranger's face. Harry felt his own expression shift into one of surprise, as well as fear, when he noticed the stranger didn't look like a Death Eater. He'd been expecting a Death Eater to be standing behind him, pointing a wand at him. He was shocked to see that, although the man wasn't a member of the Order he'd met before, he didn't seem like a Death Eater. And he wasn't aiming a wand at Harry, either. This man's wand was held loosely in his hand, not aimed at anything.
"Hello." The stranger said in a strange, tight voice. The man tried to smile but his shoulders were tense. Harry realized it was probably because he was pointing a wand at the man's chest. However, Harry did not lower his wand. "I'm - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."
"Who are you?" Harry asked, hoping his voice didn't betray his wariness.
"My name is Cyrus Hayes. I'm a member of the Order." He said.
"I haven't seen you before." Harry said, his tone laced with suspicion.
"I haven't seen you in a very long time." Cyrus Hayes said in that same strange tone.
Cyrus Hayes appeared to be in his thirties, and was tall and lean with dark blonde hair. Harry realized that if this man was a Death Eater pretending to be a member of the Order, he was doing a piss poor job of being inconspicuous. He was blinking like had something in his eye, and kept staring at Harry with this hungry look on his face. Harry backed up against the banister, preparing to run up the stairs if the man suddenly pulled his wand on him.
"Don't be scared." Cyrus said, taking a step forward. Harry took another step back, then cursed himself for making such an obvious show of fear. He caught a glimpse of himself in the dusty old mirror on the wall; indeed, he looked terrified. His eyes were wide and his face was drained of color. Cyrus' face softened. "Its alright. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. Look," Cyrus dropped his wand and held up his empty hands. "You're armed, I'm not. See? I won't hurt you."
Harry lowered his wand a little bit.
"Where is everyone?" Harry asked.
"They had to go out on some Order business." Cyrus said.
"Even Sirius?" Harry's brow furrowed.
"No, he's here." Cyrus said. Then he hastily added, "But he's sleeping upstairs, so you should probably stay down here."
"It's 4 in the afternoon, why would he be sleeping?" Harry asked.
"There was a bit of...uh, a party last night." Cyrus ran a hand through his hair.
Harry tried not to laugh at the thought of Sirius throwing a party here at Order headquarters. Although it was completely in character for Sirius to want to party, Harry didn't understand why he chose to party last night, out of nowhere. Had something happened in the Order's favor with the war? Had one of Voldemort's plans failed? Whatever it was, it must have been pretty great for Sirius to party late into the night. Harry shook his head and sighed, "Leave it to Sirius to party instead of work."
Cyrus chuckled and stared at Harry in...what was it? Surprise? Admiration?
"You just sounded like someone I once knew." Cyrus said.
Once the moment of amusement wore off, Harry suddenly felt awkward, standing so close to a man he didn't know, in the dark hallway of Grimmauld Place, with no one else around. Cyrus didn't seem like a Death Eater, but that didn't mean Harry was willing to trust him. After all, Quirrell and "Mad Eye Moody" didn't seem like Death Eaters either.
"If Sirius is asleep, then I have to go." Harry moved away from Cyrus and started making his way back to the kitchen.
"Wait," Cyrus followed behind him. "You don't have to leave, Sirius will probably wake up soon. If he doesn't, I can go wake him up-"
"I can't stay, I'm not supposed to be here." Harry hastily grabbed some Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. "And to be honest, you could probably be a Death Eater."
"Do I seem like a Death Eater to you?"
"No, but neither did Quirrell, and he tried to kill me too." Harry threw the Floo powder in the air and let himself spiral away back to Umbridge's office, praying she wasn't there. If she knew Harry sneaked into her office to use her fireplace, he'd be writing with the blood quill until his hand fell off. He couldn't let Umbridge catch him, he had to go straight to Dumbledore and ask what's going on at Grimmauld Place. If Cyrus Hayes was a Death Eater, then Sirius could be hurt -
And as Harry whirled around and around in a haze of green fire, he realized that if Cyrus wasn't a Death Eater and Sirius was fine, it was probably a good thing Harry didn't get to talk to him. Harry was feeling lost and overwhelmed and freaked that Umbridge was making him write with a blood quill, and recklessly decided to tell Sirius about it. Now Harry realized it was probably stupid to want to tell Sirius. Sirius couldn't do anything to help him; Umbridge was too powerful at the Ministry. And maybe Sirius would be afraid that Harry was losing his edge if he complained about a little bit of pain.
No, he couldn't tell anyone about it.
Sorry if this chapter seemed a little rushed. I have this bad habit of unintentionally rushing the first chapter of my stories. Please, please, please review. If I get reviews, I'll probably update sooner.