A/N: Okay, I took so long to put this up. I hope now that people will review! Enjoy:

Full Summary thingy:

Harry Potter and the Riders of the Phoenix

By Lazy-Hime

Located in: Harry Potter section

Rating: T, possibly M

Summary: Action/Adventure/Romance

Warning: Slash, language, and violence don't like don't read

Note: I will, if I have the time, write a version of this story without slash or without pairings at all. If you don't like slash, you are very welcome to read that version if you are willing to wait for it.

Pairings: Will be Voldemort/Harry Sirius/Harry or Draco/Harry at the end of the story. Readers' vote (For now, there will be a bit of each)

Summary: Eighteen year old Harry travels through time and space and lands in an alternate dimension where his parents, Sirius, and Dumbledore are still alive. What's more is that Voldemort, although still cunning and sly, has turned to the light side after Harry's counterpart, Dark! Harry turned evil. Dark! Harry rules most of the world with fear and terror, but the small, but effective, Resistance Groups all around the world are preparing to end his reign. Light! Harry and Dark! Harry is to fight against each other. Includes a Smart! Harry or Super Powerful! Harry, whatever you call it.

- - - - - - -


"Remember, Harry. Leave everything behind…"

- - - - - - -

Chapter 1: The Pain, the Tears, and the Bloodshed

Harry felt like he was running a marathon. Or that he had ran a marathon. Or he was going to run a marathon and the anticipation, excitement and fear crashed upon him. Or it was all three. He couldn't tell. He thought it must be the effects of traveling through alternate dimensions.

The thought, actually, made him chuckle nervously. Not that he was able to tell.

He moved his head, or so he thought. He couldn't see anything. It was dark and black. Strange, though, as his mind told him that there were a multitude of colors: mixed variations and shades of the known pink, orange, blue, and green, all around him. So, dark black or strange cheerful colors?"

Harry thought he cringed. Definitely black, he thought, remembering Gilderoy Lockhart. He shivered. Not a pleasant memory.

Now, this brought up a bunch of questions to surface in his mind. Where is he? Is he actually moving? What is going on?

Well, he sort of knew where he was: hanging in between a world where colors and darkness collide. Right? Although now, the green is slightly hanging away from the colors and going to the black…oh! It just got swallowed by the black! Okay, we have to stay away from the black.

Is he really moving? He turned his head. There! He could feel his muscle moving! Yet, where's the rest of his body. He glanced down, or where he thought was down (difficult to tell, really), and gasped. His body was gone!

Then he glanced at the opposite direction. Nope, not there either.

He twitched his finger. Yep, it moved. So where exactly is it? Harry felt a headache coming. Best to leave it be. He might find out sooner then.

Okay, so what exactly is happening? Harry knew, of course, that he was doing something no ordinary muggle would be able to do. But he wasn't an ordinary muggle. He was a wizard. But he isn't an ordinary wizard. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die, the Gray-Wizard, and the Boy-Who-Had-Too-Many-Names. He was the savior of the wizarding world, and the defeater of the powerful and dark Lord Voldemort. Right now, however, he felt like a giddy ten-year-old who was high on sugar.

Then the pain came. It washed over him like tidal waves, but this wasn't physical pain. It was the pain that made you want to cry like a baby but no tears come out. It was the pain that have brought strong, powerful men to their knees without any shame. It was the dull aching pain that always stays anchored to your heart once you first feel it and never goes away.

It was stronger then ever.

How could I forget…? Voldemort…Dumbledore…Sirius! He sobbed. Ron, Hermione, Fred and George, Bill, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Remus!

The memories literally flashed before his eyes, blending with the colors.

Sirius's death

Dumbledore's death

Ron's death

Hermione's capture

Ginny's sudden breakdown

Hermione's death

Ginny's death

Mrs. Weasley's isolation

The Final Battle

And the death of Lord Voldemort

Harry screamed.

- - - - - - -

"I'll follow you. I'll come, I promise. Until then, wait for me and never forget me.

"For your sake and for mine."

- - - - - - -

Harry groaned and opened his eyes, however, because of the blinding white he saw, he forced them closed. Around him, he could hear soft shuffling and the noise of rustling clothes. He could also hear mutterings, whispers, and curses.

Trying again, he opened his eyes and blinked. Silently, he thanked his masters for ordering him to magically heal his eye-sight. The familiar, but unusual, sounds and smells of the room swirled around, making him confused.

Am I dead…?

That was the first thought that popped up in his head. It was followed by the more logical one:

Where am I?

Instead of staring at the ceiling, Harry focused his eyes to the side, where a woman whose back was faced to him, bustled about frantically.

After a few blank moments or more, Harry's eyes widened in realization.

Oh! It's- "Poppy?"

The woman gave a small shriek and turned around, wand immediately pointed at his head. Harry glanced at the wand, utterly confused. She was shaking, her eyes darting around, from Harry to the nearest escape, which was the small opening in the drawn curtains that surrounded the bed he was on.

"Poppy, what are you- Are you okay? You're shaking…"

The woman's eyes, if possible, grew wider. "Albus! Albus! Anyone!"

There were loud footsteps heading his way and the curtain was abruptly drawn back, revealing several people, all who were pointing there wands at him.

Harry didn't realize that, though, for he was staring at the man who had opened the curtains, in disbelief.

"S-Sirius…?"

The man in question stared back with hatred, sadness, and shock.

But none of this was noticed by the Boy-Who-Lived, for he had, mercifully, fainted.

- - - - - - -

Again, Harry woke up to whispers all around him, but this time, he kept his eyes closed and kept his breath even and shallow. This time, he listened on what they were talking about. Another lesson learned from his masters.

"Albus, what do you think you're doing? I can't believe you brought-"

The strict, tight voice was replaced by a calm soothing voice that made Harry's heart feel a pang of longing and sadness.

"Minerva, do not worry. I don't believe he is who we think he is. You heard what he was saying while dreaming. Besides, Severus and young Mr. Malfoy have already informed me that he is not-"

Harry wished he was dreaming. He really did. It was better than this cruel joke of a reality that the gods were throwing at him.

He whimpered, softly, but the two conversing people heard him.

Oh, great, Potter! You just gave yourself away! Harry mentally scolded himself.

A cool hand was placed on his forehead and whispers were heard. After a while, a goblet was placed gently at his mouth. Harry turned his head slightly away. He had long ago learned that he shouldn't trust anything he didn't make himself or watched it being prepared.

"Come, Harry, its only water."

Harry gently opened his eyes and saw the blue eyes that were staring back. He heard light gasps around him and suddenly he wondered how many people exactly were near him. He could distantly hear someone muttering "Lily's eyes, he has Lily's eyes…" but he didn't hear it. Instead, he chose to drown himself in the light blue eyes that could only ever belong to his old mentor, whom he missed so much.

Noticeable to all in the room but Harry, tears brimmed his eyes.

And although his voice was hoarse, he desperately cried out. "Professor…"

The old man smiled sadly and pushed the goblet forward. "Drink Harry, it'll help ease the pain in your throat. It'll help you speak."

Harry only nodded and parted his lips to allow Dumbledore to tip the cold liquid into his mouth. Instantly, his throat soothed.

"Professor…I-I…"

Dumbledore nodded, as if understanding without really understanding. "We have a lot to talk about, Harry, but until then, please rest. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Then we can talk. You can tell me anything you want to…"

Dumbledore drifted off as he watched the boy's eyes shut close and his breath come out even and shallow.

Wordlessly, he stood up and walked out of the infirmary, several people following after.

- - - - - - -

"ALBUS! What is the meaning of this?" Sirius roared when they reached the silent haven of Dumbledore's private office.

Dumbledore sighed and sat, offering his guests a lemon drop. He was declined by several glares and tight shakes of the heads. He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Please, Sirius, if you would quiet down. I'm afraid I am not as young as I once was…although I am not old either…"

Several of the room's occupants smiled lightly at that.

Dumbledore looked carefully around the room and its entire people. The people, who stood before him, besides some other members who were currently away on missions, were the equivalent of the "Inner Circle" of the Death Eaters. These members of the Order of the Phoenix were: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, Arthur, Molly, Bill, and Charlie Weasley, Alice Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, and several others.

He sighed, tiredly. He really wasn't as young as he used to be. The sudden appearance of Harry Potter was dangerous and surprising. The Erus' presence has created a massive blow on the faith his people had of the wards protecting Hogwarts. Albus didn't believe that the boy sleeping in the infirmary was the Erus.

Now, how can he explain it to the rest?

Clearing his throat, he decided to try, at least. "Well-"

"ALBUS! COME DOWN! THE BOY'S UNCONCIOUS, BUT HIS MAGIC'S GONE OUT OF CONTROL!"

The voice startled the occupants of the room and they stared at the fireplace, where Madam Pomfrey's shrill voice still echoed.

In the next moment, the room was in chaos. Several people, all at once, rushed to the door, only to get stuck in the process. Others were shouting and yelling, fear and panic evidently laced in their voices. Dumbledore took it all in, in a second, and he did the one thing he almost rarely ever did. He laced his voice with strong magic and spoke.

"Everyone will calm down right now or they will face dire consequences."

They were softly spoken but the effect was immense. All the grown-ups stopped what they were doing and stood still. Looking properly ashamed, they turned towards their leader.

Albus calmly stood up, although his very blood screamed at him to rush to the infirmary. Fawkes, Godric's ever faithful phoenix and currently Dumbledore's, landed on his shoulder and crooned softly.

With all the patience he could muster, he walked out of his office down the stairs and toward the infirmary. He thanked any all deities out there that the infirmary was located close to his office for situations like this.

The doors to the ward opened up immediately, recognizing the presence of the current headmaster. What he saw in the room, however, made him stop in shock, as did the people behind him.

The boy, who looked so much like the Harry Potter he once knew and loved, was on the bed, his back arched. His eyes were open, but rolled back to show only the whites. His mouth was open in a silent scream.

Magic was crackling in the air, making all occupants and those near the room struggle for breath. The pressure was huge. It suffocated all those nearest the boy. Elphias Doge, who was the guard on shift, was on his knees, hands grasping his throat as he so desperately tried to force air back into the lungs. It wasn't long until he fainted.

Dumbledore, who watched in horror, immediately snapped out of his stupor. Rushing, he created a shield around him, a light green, pulsing dome, and hurried to the boy's bed, each step harder then the previous.

Such power! It's stronger then the last time we-!

Reaching out, he grasped the boy's shoulder and forced the body down. At touch, he knew what was wrong.

Filters…Merlin, the boy needs filters!

Concentrating his magic, he forced some of his own into the small body, increasing the power of the out of control magic. However, the effect he had wished was not what happened. The severe backlash of magic hurled him straight across the room, collapsing against the wall.

Gasping for breath, Albus forced himself up, Hogwarts' and his own magic managing to support him. Creeping forward, he laid his hands on the boy again, but this time, he gently let magic pour into the body. Watching the visible green swirls encasing the body, he sighed in relief as the pressure decreased, though did not fade completely.

The silence in the room could have been cut with a knife.

"Albus, are you all right?"

The old headmaster nodded and gently sat down on an empty bed.

"What the…hell just happened?"

He sighed. "Young Harry, here, apparently needs filter to keep his magic in control."

"Filters? What do you mean by filters?"

"Filters are placed upon powerful wizards that have a more then healthy amount of magic within their hold. Too much magic is a double-edged sword. Sure, your magic reserves can stand much longer then the norm, but the more you use, the less control you have. Filters were created to lower the amount of magic. In other words, block it."

"I've heard of this," Minerva murmured. "It's not very widely known."

Albus nodded his head, with a small twinkle, to urge her on.

Minerva flushed as she realized she had the attention of all the people in the room, sans the boy. "Well-er- it's kind of quite simple. If, say, an all people, magical or muggle or even animals, have a 100 percent supply of magic-"

"Hold on," Tonks interrupted. "What do you mean muggles have magic?"

"They don't have access to their inner magic," Remus said, "But they still have it. Living things need magic to survive, at least some."

"Yes," Minerva continued. "Muggles only use about half a percent of magic to survive. Some can survive with less and the more gifted muggles have a little more.

"An average magical wizard or witch uses up to 40 percent of their magic, at their highest point. A more powerful wizard like Albus, Nicholas, Tom, and some of the older purebloods, use up to 60 percent of their magic supply at their highest point; 70, which is a miracle, depending on the situation." She paused and hesitated. "Albus…how much…?"

The old man sighed again. "Right now, we've just seen him use 75 percent of his magic supply. Even I have only managed 64 in my younger years. This…this is phenomenal."

Silence crept at his words, but it was broken by Remus and Minerva, who was probably the only ones who knew the real implications of that, or at least the ones who understood the closest.

"Albus," Remus began, still not getting around the fact that Harry Potter, the boy who he taught since he was a baby, was this powerful, "This isn't very good news, is it? I mean, the Erus-" he choked.

Albus smiled sadly. "I have said it before; I do not believe this boy on this bed in the Erus."

"But Albus-!" Several people protested.

Albus sighed; he'd been doing that a lot lately. "The boy will awaken tomorrow afternoon the earliest. We will discuss this then. Right now, however, I am near exhausted and would like to go to sleep."

Suddenly, people realized how tired the headmaster looked and many people started apologizing at once.

"Oh, Albus!"

"We're so sorry!"

"How inconsiderate of us!"

Albus tiredly waved a hand to stop the talking, got up, and swept out of the room.

After he left, one by one, each member took a last glance or so at the sleeping boy surrounded by green and left, until one person remained.

"Harry…"

- - - - - - -

Hurriedly, she whipped around to face her pursuers. She held out her left hand that glowed fiercely, all the while keeping her broken other arm tightly close to her body. Whispering in an ancient language taught to her when she was a child, her hand shone blue, erecting a shimmering shield, and effectively preventing her attackers from reaching her.

One of the men who were kept at bay by the shield sneered at her. Although he was wearing a mask, she felt it and involuntarily shivered. "Give up, girl. You can never escape the Dark Lord. You will be killed before you put a step outside of the wards."

The girl drew herself to her full height, a motion she hadn't done before in the six months of her captivity. Her hand did not tremble. In a strong voice, only shadowed by anguish and the darkness of one who was tortured, she firmly shouted.

"As heiress to the Spera Clan, I will not tolerate the actions against me by your Lord. My father and my Lord will not appreciate what you have done. Be assured, the proper actions will be made and you shall pay the consequences."

In one swift motion, she let go of the magic that bound the pursuers and swept her claw-like fingers across her torso. Blood splattered and she disappeared before a curse could hit her.

And she landed right in front of a dark-haired, green-eyed boy who, unknowingly, summoned her. For the rest of her life, she would forever become his closest ally.

And the Dark and Light will scream.

- - - - - - -

Hmm… I think there are several hints to the future. One in particular, but I don't think anyone will guess it…