Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Created by J.K. Rowling
Anticipated For Impatient Readers by Chrissy

Disclaimer: Harry and all of his friends belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc., and not me. Obviously I don't know what the Order of the Phoenix is in her mind; this is merely my interpretation. No money is being made off of this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Thanks to my wonderful beta-reader, Becky! I would be in a real mess without her help!

Chapter One: Another Birthday

In all of his years as a wizard, Harry couldn't remember ever being quite this anxious for the school term to begin.

It had been a very long summer at Number Four, Privet Drive. More than once, Harry had been extremely tempted to just leave the house in the dead of night and take the Knight Bus into London, or to the Burrow. He would have done anything to get away from the Dursleys for the remainder of the summer, for they had never seemed quite this wretched before. He fought down his urges to run away, though. With Lord Voldemort's return, Harry knew that it had never been more imperative that he remain with his blood relations than it was this summer.

Harry sat on the bed in the tiny guest room on the second floor. His birthday cards were arranged in a semi-circle in front of him, delivered into his lap that day by birds from around the country. On the far right was a card from Sirius, his godfather, who until two years before had been imprisoned in Azkaban, the terrifying wizard prison.

Harry didn't know where Sirius had gone to, but the huge tropical birds that had delivered his card the year before had been replaced by a bright white owl. It was even larger and lighter in color than Hedwig, Harry's owl. Harry suspected that Sirius was somewhere up north, but he didn't know where.

Dear Harry,

Sorry I can't be there. I can't tell you where I am, but I'm safe right now. Dumbledore's entrusted me with something very important, but my first priority has to be watching out for you. So once again: stay out of trouble! You'll be safe at the Dursleys. Stay there until we tell you otherwise. Keep your head down. I'll try to get in to see you after fall term starts.

I've enclosed a gift that I think you may find useful this year. Try not to get into trouble; only use it in case of emergency.

Happy Birthday, Harry. Your parents would be very proud of you.

-Sirius

Harry eagerly unrolled the scroll of parchment that was attached to his card. If he knew Sirius, his gift would be useful… and if Sirius had warned him not to get into trouble, then it had to be something good!

At first, Harry didn't know what to make of the parchment: it was completely blank. Then he remembered the Marauder's Map he'd been entrusted with two years before. Smiling, he reached under his bed and pulled out his wand… and then hesitated. Would activating a map count as magic? Well, he wasn't really making anything happen… and the Dursleys wouldn't see it - no Muggles would - so maybe just this once… "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," he tried first, tapping his wand to the parchment.

Nothing happened.

Harry frowned. From the note that Sirius had sent, he probably should have guessed that any affirmation of mischief wouldn't get him very far, but he couldn't think of anything else. He didn't even know what the parchment was. Maybe it wasn't a map.

He scanned the note again. Try not to get into trouble; only use it in case of emergency. He sighed and tried again. "I solemnly swear that I'm not up to no good," he attempted. Then, "This is an emergency," and finally, frustrated, "Come on, Sirius, what's the password?!" (He hadn't really expected that one to work.)

Staring, frustrated, at the bit of parchment, Harry finally set it aside to look at his other cards.

Next to Sirius's card sat the note from Ron Weasley, Harry's best friend.

Harry -

Happy Birthday! I wish you could come spend it here at the Burrow with us, but Mum says Dumbledore won't allow it. The summer will be really slow without you - and Hermione's busy with Krum in Bulgaria, so she won't be coming, either. I don't understand her at all. He comes from Durmstrang! Now more than ever, you'd think she'd have the sense not to be running off with foreign wizards.

Since you couldn't come with me, I sent the game to you. The Cannons were amazing! Beat Puddlemere 170 - 110! Brilliant! I won't say anymore until you've seen the game, but watch it soon, and owl me when you do! Incredible!

-Ron

Ron had sent Harry his Omnioculars, with the Chudley Cannons' latest game recorded on them. The Chudley Cannons were Ron Weasley's favorite Quidditch team, and because Harry had no access to wizarding news, and no opportunity to go see professional Quidditch teams play, they had become Harry's favorite team by default.

Harry's other best friend, Hermione Granger, had also sent a book, Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian. She had also sent a note.

Dear Harry,

How are you? Has your scar been bothering you at all? If it does, you know you should write to Sirius immediately. I wish I could see you and make sure you're all right, but I suppose Dumbledore wants you to stay with your aunt and uncle. Still, it won't be the same at Ron's this summer, will it?

Bulgaria was all right. Viktor sends his greetings. I'm back in England now, but Mum and Dad and I will be off to visit my grandparents soon. Hopefully I'll see you and Ron before we get back to Hogwarts. I can't wait for school to start, can you?

I hope you enjoy the book I've sent. You should probably start studying it; you never know when you'll need a counter-curse, Harry, especially now that You-Know-Who is back.

Well, Happy Birthday!

Love from, Hermione

The last package sat unopened near Harry's pillow. The lumpy brown paper, crumpled note, and unsteady handwriting left no doubt: it was from Hagrid.

Harry,

Happy Birthday! Hope you're alright. I'm having fun here, but I can't tell you where I am in case this letter falls into the wrong hands.

Hope you enjoy your present. They taste the same, I promise!

Hagrid

Harry unwrapped the package slowly, wary of something with teeth. When Hagrid sent a package, caution was always worthwhile. Hagrid was a genuinely caring person, but he had a fondness for dangerous things - especially dangerous pets, like Norbert, the illegal dragon he'd adopted when Harry was in his first year, or the Blast-Ended Skrewts that he'd had his Care of Magical Creatures classes raise the year before. Hagrid just didn't see the dangerous side to things.

The brown paper tore easily, and the contents of the bundle spilled into Harry's lap. There were several small, colorful packages; they looked like Harry's favorite wizard candies, but somehow different. He picked up a sack of what looked like Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans, but the printing on the package wasn't in English. A witch blinked serenely on the cover (Bertie Bott, Harry assumed) and winked occasionally. Bertie Botts Bohnen aller Geschmacksrichtungen! the package read.

"Then Hagrid must be on the Continent!" Harry realized. "Either Germany… or Austria, maybe…" It was a clever way to send his location, and Harry felt much better knowing that Hagrid was safe, and still in touch with wizarding civilization. After Voldemort's return the year before, Dumbledore had entrusted Hagrid and Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons headmistress, with some sort of mission. Since both were half-giants themselves, Harry suspected that mission was to talk to the giants of Europe, creatures that were thought to be violent in the wizarding world. Most wizards thought that they had allied themselves with Lord Voldemort when he was last in power. Harry suspected that all giants weren't evil, though. After all, Hagrid was a half-giant himself, and he was the furthest thing from evil it was possible to be.

With a sigh, Harry climbed off the bed and got down on the floor. Carefully, he pried the loose floorboard up, and deposited his gifts into his hiding place. Then he raised himself up and crossed the small room to the calendar that was hanging on the wall. He marked a large "X" over his birthday, removed his glasses, and climbed into bed. One more day with the Dursleys was over.