I don't normally like doing this however; Badwolf56 I'm glad you're enjoying this story, I have no idea who or what StarKid is, but I still hope this lives up to your expectations.

Right from here on out things get more involved. I'm not writing tidbits of years anymore, I'm going all out and writing the whole year. So settle in for the long haul, this is going to be a big one.

The chapters will be divided neatly into easily digested segments and unfortunately they will be very spaced apart. Uni is currently attempting to make us work more hours that there actually are in a day. I'm trying to write a little bit each night, but when you don't get home until 9 or 10 at night and then you're on call until the next morning sometimes sleep takes preference to writing. I am trying, but please be patient updates will come I swear.

Chapter 7: Fifth Year- The Beginning

Harry staggered and his shoulder slammed into the solid wall beside him. The dementors were gone Dudley and he retained their souls, but the adrenalin was still pumping through his veins. Taking a few shaky breaths he looked around slowly. Blinking rapidly to remove the glimmering afterimage of his Patronus Harry hurried over to Dudley's slumped form.

His cousin was curled in on himself and shuddering, whimpering softly into the curve of his arms. At least he was still alive. "Dudley, come on we need to get out of here before they come back." Harry demanded, tugging firmly on his cousin's shoulder. The lump didn't move instead he pulled himself into a tighter and tighter ball. "Dudley, damn it." Harry snapped throwing a glance around the deserted back alley for something that could help him get his cousin moving.

It took all of Harry's strength to hoist Dudley's arm over his shoulder and stagger most of the way down the street. It wasn't until they had left the park that Harry realised he still had his wand clamped firmly in one hand. "Stupid." He muttered. As much as Harry didn't want to put his wand away, dragging Dudley around with only one arm was just too difficult.

Dumping Dudley on the ground for a moment Harry stowed his wand in his back pocket. That way it was still easy to reach if something leapt out from the shadows and attacked them.

Just as Harry was bending over to lift Dudley up again, a trembly female voice called out from the darkness to his right. "Don't put your wand away Harry, what if they come back? Harry whirled towards the voice, his hand drifted towards his wand and his jaw dropped, it was Mrs Figg. "What? How?" He stuttered.

She smiled warily at him and looked around carefully. "You didn't think Dumbledore would let you wander around unprotected with the Dark Lord out there did you?" Harry blinked in confusion. "Come on quickly, we need to get out of the street." She muttered anxiously and led the way back towards Privit Drive. Harry hurriedly lifted Dudley to his feet again. His cousin groaned and whimpered again.

As they approached Number 4 Harry could see the tension go out of Mrs Figg's shoulders. She believed that they were safe now. At exactly the moment that Harry was starting to relax as well a shadow moved and a figure stepped out of the growing dimness next to the Dursley's house.

Dudley gave a snort and shuddered away; Harry promptly dropped him and levelled his wand at the intruder. "Put that away silly boy." A gruff and familiar voice snapped. "You'll put someone's eye out."

For the second time that night Harry found himself speechless. Leaning on a wooden staff as tall as he was, the old man from the graveyard rolled his eyes at Harry's surprise. "Honestly boy did you think I was going to leave you alone after all the trouble you manage to get yourself in, now inside would be the best thing for you I think." He motioned at the same time as he turned away from Harry. Dudley was lifted and deposited on the doorstep.

An invisible force shoved Harry in the back propelling him towards Dudley's prone form. The old man hurried towards Mrs Figg. "As you for you... I'd like a word with Albus Dumbledore if you can arrange it and before you complain I'd imagine he'd rather fancy a word with me as well."

Mrs Figg's reply was lost in the darkness as Harry's attention was pulled back to the front door as it was wrenched open and Dudley tumbled into the hallway. Aunt Petunia let loose a horrified sob and Uncle Vernon dragged Harry inside by his collar.


Harry sunk onto his bed and stared blankly at the wall. There was a loud thump as the front door slammed, followed moments later by the sound of the car starting up. Dudley was a mess, his first ever encounter with dementors had seriously mess him up and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had decided to take him straight to a very private doctor.

There were more pressing things on Harry mind. He had spent the last month and a half trying to puzzle out the identity of his mysterious saviour from the graveyard last year. When Harry had asked Dumbledore the Headmaster had been as concerned as Harry had been.

Ron had thought the old man was awesome; after all he had fought Voldemort and all the Death Eaters at once and won. Harry had to admit that he had been impressive. Whoever he was the old man was obviously powerful.

Rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling Harry frowned. The old man's appearance tonight was the strangest thing of all. Not just because he apparently knew where Harry lived, but also because of what he had said. It had almost sounded like the old man knew Harry. Could he be some long lost relation, but if he was then why hadn't he taken Harry away from the Dursley's?

Punching his pillow impotently Harry growled to himself. He had more important things to worry about than some old man; he was going to be expelled from Hogwarts. It just wasn't fair, after all what else was he supposed to have done, let himself and Dudley get their souls sucked out?

A soft and insistent tapping sounded on his window and Harry looked up. Hedwig was perched on his window sill and Harry could see a letter tied to her leg. He perked up and opened the window for her. "Hedwig, did you get a good lot of replies?" He asked, shoving aside the flicker of guilt at his instructions to peck his friends until they replied. Hedwig hooted and held out her leg, the owl almost looked pleased with herself.

Exchanging an owl pellet for the letter Harry threw himself back on his bed to read the irritatingly short note. It was from Sirius.

Harry don't go anywhere and don't do anything. Especially more magic. We are coming to get you.

Harry frowned. The note was short, but apparently being attacked by dementors was enough to get him a quick ticket out of Little Whinging.

One freezing cold hour long broom ride later

Harry dismounted his broom and tried to rub some feeling into his frozen hands while Kingsley removed the disillusionment charm. They had landed on a grubby street on the edge of London, it was deserted, or at least it appeared to be on Harry's first glance around.

"Took you long enough." The shadows made by one of the buildings shifted and the old man stepped out of them, minus his staff. Harry's guards had their wands drawn and aimed in a moment. The old man walked forward with a surprisingly sprightly step for someone that old. Moody kept his wand level at the approaching stranger, even while the others lowered theirs.

Lupin stepped forward rapidly, before Moody could jump in and curse the old man. "I see you got Dumbledore's message to meet us here?" The werewolf was early.

"Yes." The old man said shortly and stepped into the lamp light. He looked down at Harry. "Good to finally meet you Harry Potter." He said, offering one gnarled hand which Harry shook warily.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

The old man ignored Harry's question instead grumbling t Harry's guards. "I don't know about you, but standing out in the street with an army of Dark Wizards on the move doesn't seem like the best plan to me."

"You're right." Lupin said carefully, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Here Harry read this and then think very hard about what you've just read."

Harry blinked and looked down at the scrap of parchment in his fingers.

The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Frowning, Harry looked up at Lupin only to gape at the line of buildings behind his old Professor. It was unfolding slowly, with numbers 11 and 13 shifting quickly aside to make room for number 12 which unfurled itself from a space that had never existed. Harry could see people in the rooms within the dislocated buildings, none of them so much as twitched despite their houses suddenly relocating.

The old man had already turned his attention to the new house-front. "Hmm, useful." He said before he strode purposefully up the stairs and knocked on the door.

Moody grumbled under his breath and ushered Harry forwards and into the gloomiest hallway he had ever had the misfortune to enter. Mrs. Weasley appeared from a dimly lit doorway at the other end of the corridor.

A cloud of dust wafted upwards and into Harry's face. Seeing him about the sneeze, Mrs. Weasley grabbed him and almost threw him into a brightly lit, if slightly dingy kitchen. Harry doubled over with the force of the sneezes and by the time he had straightened up he was surrounded. Hermione hugged him ferociously. "Oh Harry are you alright, we heard about what happened and I looked it up they can't expel you for using magic to save your life." She insisted.

Harry gave her a smile which felt more like a grimace and hugged Ron as well. He looked around and tried to keep the anger from boiling over because everyone was here. Sirius, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ron and Hermione, Lupin, McGonagall even Snape was standing brooding in the corner. "So..." Harry asked stiffly. "What is this place?"

"Order of the Phoenix, you're a sharp one." The mysterious old man chuckled from his seat by the fire.

Moody turned to him. "And what do you know of the Order? Who are you?" He snapped.

"Just a harmless old man." He gave a rough and very fake cough. "Only trying to help."

"Nonsense. You're the one that Potter told Albus about, from the graveyard. You fought off You-Know-Who and a dozen Death Eaters by yourself." McGonagall pointed out. "Besides which Albus himself invited you here."

"Minerva has a point; I must admit that I'm very curious about you." Harry hadn't noticed Dumbledore enter the room.

The old man raised an eyebrow. "Fine thanks I get for all my work then."

"What work?" Mrs Weasley demanded.

"Kept Harry safe for the last four years, oh and you're welcome for the protective spell that saved him from Voldemort in the first place." The man snapped, folding his arms over his chest defensively.

There was a moment of stunned silence in the crowded room. Harry was openly gaping, how did this man know about the protective spell his mothers sacrifice had created and why would he claim that he had created it. Surely he didn't think he could fool Dumbledore with a lie as obvious as that.

Dumbledore examined the old man calmly. "That spell was created by Lily Potter's sacrifice." He said firmly, Harry could see his hand drifting towards his wand and the other's mimicked his movements.

The old man shrugged nonplussed by the slowly building threat. "Maybe, blood spells are old magic, older than you, older than me. Still they require instigation, they don't happen all on their own."

"I see." Dumbledore murmured. He lifted his eyes slowly to the old man and fixated him with the x-ray look Harry was familiar with. The old man twitched. "Who are you and how is it that you know so much about Harry and the Order?"

The room was silent. Harry felt that this was some great clash of wills. Dumbledore was one of the most powerful wizards in the world and the old man...well Harry didn't know who he was, but he had taken on Voldemort so he must be powerful.

The old man smirked. "I am who I am, I am who I was, and I am who I'll always be." His eyes flicked up to look over the confused glances that everyone else was exchanging.

"That's all the answer you'll get out of me." He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. At the silent raising of wands he waved his hand absently. "Alright calm down. It's just a joke." Slowly he got to his feet. "You have to understand how difficult this is. It's taken me four years to decide to involve myself in your affairs. I've spent an age waiting..." He paused and clenched his hands into fists. "I am Merlin." The old man said simply.

The disbelieving looks on everyone's faces told the full story. Harry had always figured that Merlin was a semi-mythical figure, not a real one. Ron insisted that the ancient wizard had been real, he was even on a chocolate frog card, and Harry had still been dubious. Of course that didn't take into account the fact that the preeminent wizard was also supposed to have died several hundred years ago.

Still, the quiet conviction that the old man's statement possessed was apparently enough to shake even Dumbledore resolution.

"Merlin died hundreds if not thousands of years ago." McGonagall said quietly.

Merlin shrugged and folded his hands in front of him. "No, I never died. I just withdrew from the world. It was better that way." He said.

Harry took a careful step forwards and everyone turned to look at him. "Merlin? And you've been helping me since first year?" That was the kicker in his books.

Merlin gave a surprisingly cheeky smile from behind his beard. "Yes. Just little things mostly nudges in the right direction here and there. However when the tournament started up again at the beginning of last year I knew something was going to go wrong. So I kept a closer eye on you, lucky I did to. I'm not entirely sure you could have won a fight against Voldemort at this point, after all..."

At this point Dumbledore interrupted sharply. "While I appreciate that you are concerned for Harry's safety we also are and we know nothing about you. Until I can be sure that your rather unbelievable statement is the truth I cannot allow you to continue. Particularly as I suspect you are leaning towards information that is available to the Order and the Order alone. How you know this I don't know, but I would ask that you don't speak of it further."

"What?" Harry demanded angrily. Hermione and Ron looked disappointed and Ginny tugged on Harry's sleeve. "We haven't been told anything, every time we ask questions we just get told we're too young and not in the Order. Mum and Dad won't even tell Fred and George anything and they're seventeen.

This information did nothing to improve Harry's temper, but he satisfied himself with the knowledge that Merlin looked just as annoyed about the request as Harry did. And though he grunted in what could have been agreement at Dumbledore before the adults ushered Harry and the others out of the room Harry suspected that if Harry asked him, the ancient sorcerer would answer any questions put to him.

Dragging their feet upstairs the six youngest in Grimmauld Place sat down to discuss the interesting turn of events.


Merlin settled back in his chair and watched Dumbledore. The old wizard obviously hadn't told any of the other members of the Order anything about the prophecy concerning Harry and Voldemort, other than that it existed. To Merlin this seemed like a foolish idea.

If he trusted these people then he should have told them about the prophecy and everything it entailed. Merlin of all people knew the damage that secrecy could cause, the pain that it would lead to. Sometimes you just needed to tell the people you loved the whole and absolute truth and trust in them to do the right thing. If they were the people you thought they were then they would do the right thing.

He was being surveyed with a great deal of intensity, but Merlin was ignoring them as well as he could. He had been expecting exactly this reaction from the wizarding world, which was why he had been avoiding getting involved. Somehow after the removal of the law forbidding witchcraft the story of his protecting Arthur had been rewritten to make it sound as though he had succeeded in his task. Merlin was sure this was Gwen's doing.

That had been just before he had officially withdrawn from the world, magical or otherwise. He didn't want any of this. He didn't want recognition, he never had, particularly for what he considered to be his most spectacular failure.

"So if you are Merlin, what do you plan on doing this year?" Someone asked. "And why do you have such an interest in Harry?"

Merlin looked up suddenly, he'd been so lost in thought that he hadn't realised that Dumbledore had been talking to him. "What?"

"Since you have decided to involve yourself in Harry's life what are your plans for this year?" Dumbledore repeated calmly, he didn't seem bothered by Merlin's apparently lack of attention.

Stroking his beard Merlin replied, "At the moment my intentions are simply to keep Harry as safe as possible, it would be infinitely easier if I were able to be present at the school during the year."

The truth was that Merlin hadn't really planned what he was intending on doing this year. Long terms plans had never really been his strong point, mostly he went with what felt right at the time and if something came up that was beyond his expertise he just dealt with it the same way he always had. Went to his books and tried to figure out what on earth it was. For example he was rolling with them not believing him, still unsure what to do about it. Merlin had known that it would take a great deal of convincing and probably a powerful display of magic to get the Order to allow him to do what he had to do.

"In what capacity do you intend to remain at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked. The Headmaster his had his wand in his hand. Merlin could see that they had no trust in him. He imagined that he was going to be locked in his room for the entirety of his stay here. Not that that would bother him. There wasn't a confinement spell in existence that could stand up to him.

Merlin got to his feet; he needed to think about how much he was going to tell these people. They were obviously not going to invite him into the Order which, even if they did he would refuse. Binding himself to that sort of command would only get in the way. He was here to keep an eye on Harry and to while away the time until Arthur rose. Until then Merlin would not tie himself by oath or any other means to any individual who would prevent him from fulfilling his destiny.

"If you don't mind I'm going to retire for the night, it's been a long day." That, Merlin had discovered, was one of the biggest advantages of being old. People would easily assume that you needed more sleep than anyone. He knew better than anyone that wasn't true. Not just because he could disguise himself as an old man, but he'd lived with Gaius for several years and if anyone had been an old man of un-ending energy it had been Camelot's court physician.

After a quick exchange of glances Mrs. Weasley bustled to her feet. "Of course, I think there may be a room which would suit you." The red headed woman led the way up the stairs. Merlin heard the sudden burst of noise from the room as soon as they had left. Apparently he had caused more of a stir than they had originally let on.

Mrs Weasley opened several doors along the first floor landing, each time shaking her head with determination. "Please don't stress yourself. I'm sure this room will be fine." Merlin finally said, after the motherly woman had rejected the sixth room in a row. Ignoring her protests he stepped inside and looked about. It was dusty and something sinister was hiding in the curtains, but Merlin had dealt with worse.

After he had convinced Mrs Weasley to leave and she had set several powerful charms on the door to alert anyone to his leaving, Merlin released the aging spell and looked around. Sure it was dirtier than anything he'd ever lived in before, but he had magic and he was going to use it. Dust swirled into tiny tornados as the wind began to stir. Leaving the minor magic to clean up the dust, cobwebs and various living critters, Merlin turned his attention to the 'thing' in the curtains.

Casting around and locating an ancient curtain pole, Merlin approached the shifting material. Hefting the three foot wooden pole warily, Merlin jabbed it into the curtains. The 'thing' gave a feral snarled and lunged for him. Swinging his makeshift sword swiftly Merlin sent the chittering ball of fluff, which possessed something like twenty spider-like legs made of bits of wood, off towards the door. "Begone from my sight." Merlin muttered. Magic warmed him and the ball of fluff dissolved into its component parts which were quickly removed by the cleaning magic.

Twenty minutes later and the room was clean and perfectly habitable. Merlin had made the bed with magically cleaned linen's and finally sunk onto the slightly lumpy mattress with a sigh of contentment.

For tonight he would sleep peacefully, because tomorrow the troubles were going to start.


Again I apologise for the delay in these updates. I'm working as quickly as I can however uni obviously has to take preference. I'm also now writing a between events chapter, which I hate doing and unfortunately that makes me try to avoid writing by doing other things, like assignments. Which in a way is productive I suppose, not in pleasant ways though.