This story was previously known as Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix but I had to change it because half of the stories on FFN seem to have that same name. I still think it was a good title. It is about the order of phoenix, after all.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never were. Will probably never be. A huge
thanks to J. Rowling for creating them all and Sirius specially. I hope
the 5th book will have much more of him, just like my own version.
Read and enjoy, and write a review when you are finished.
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Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix
Chapter I: A birthday party
HARRY Potter was lying on the bed, his head resting on the elbows,
a little lamp illuminating the pages of a heavy volume laying open in
front of him. He was doing the same thing
he usually did on summer vacations at Privet Drive - secretly
doing his homework in the latest hours of the night. This time,
though, he was finding it harder to concentrate on the topic he
was studying than anytime before. It wasn't even the Dursley's
fault. Maybe the idea of Harry having a multiple killer for
godfather still had enough power of persuasion after two years of
not seeing any prove of Sirius' existence, or maybe Dumbledore had
done some bit of extreme powerful magic to convince his relatives
to accept him once again for the summer. Harry was sure that only
a Total Memory Sweep Charm would do the trick, making the Dursleys
forget all the trouble he caused in the last fourteen years
(selected examples being the blow-attack on aunt Magda, Dudley's
Ton Tongue, more Dudley torture like a snake attack or a pig tail
and many many others). That or a death threat were the only two
things that could possibly make the Dursleys allow him once more
in their completely normal typical middle-class home. Not only did
they pick him up at King Cross and drove him to Privet Drive
without any comment about the events of the past summer, they even
left him in peace afterwards and allowed him to have all his
school things in his room. They also fed him better than the
previous summer, but considering that he had been in danger of
starving than, it wasn't much of improvement.
Since than Harry was left total and completely to himself. There
was no more harassing or ordering him around, Dudley's stupid
jokes and unpleasant comments about his parents. In fact, there
were no comments of any kind concerning Harry. If he was treated
as if he was an irritating piece of dust on aunt Petunia's
perfectly clean carpet before, now he seemed not to exist at all.
But even for that Harry was grateful. The memories of Voldemort
rising from the cauldron, staying in front of him surrounded by
his army of Death Eaters kept haunting Harry at night. For the
whole summer he had longed to receive some news from the outside
world, to see if anything happened that confirmed his darkest
fears. But the letters from Ron and Hermione assured him that
nothing happened, and his scar hasn't bothered him at all since
the Triwizard Tournament. Harry now paid more attention to the
muggle news in case something emerged from that side, but also
there everything was quiet. It was as if nothing happened in the
whole world. If it wasn't for the events he had witnessed himself,
he would have never guessed that the dark times had never been
nearer since Voldemort's fall.
Harry sat up in his bed and closed the book he had been trying to
study. "Dark curses and contra curses - a quick guide" wasn't in
his list of books for the next year, and despite its name had
proved to be quite a long and difficult volume. Harry got it from
Ron who borrowed it from his father after a week of coming up with
different excuses and making Hedwig, who had to deliver messages
to the Burrow every day, extremely nervous. Harry couldn't
understand his friend's reluctance at helping him to learn more on
the subject. It wasn't like he planned to go after Voldemort, but
perhaps Ron was afraid he could do exactly that. In fact Harry
had come to a point of quiet resignation about the part of his
live that had to do with the dark lord. For some reason the idea
of being the personal enemy of the most terrible wizard of the
modern history didn't scare him anymore. That didn't mean, of
course, that he intended to surrender and wait patiently for him
to come. Harry was determined to learn as much defence against the
Dark Arts as he could. The classes he had had at Hogwarts had been
or very good like the last two years, or simply a loss of time,
and he couldn't know who their fifth defence teacher would be. It
could just be his luck if Snape finally got his great wish
fulfilled.
Harry took a good look at his clock and smiled when he saw that it
was already past midnight. Once again, he had kept the tradition
of staying awake at the night before his birthday. This year,
though, he had a much better reason than homework for doing so. A
letter came today - now it was already yesterday - brought by a
big grey owl he didn't recognize with funny flourish letters on
the envelope forming a return address that made Harry's heart to
perform a little victory dance in his chest: "Purveyors of Aids
for the Magical Mischief Makers Co." The owl greeted Hedwig with a
graceful bow and waited patiently for Harry to untie the envelope.
The bird was done as soon as the letter was safely in Harry's
hands. Harry didn't even have time to write a thank you note. As
much as he wanted to open the letter right away he had enough
strength of will to hide it under the loose table in the floor
until the moment came.
Harry had no problems to guess who the sender of the letter was.
He had no news from Sirius since they said good-bye at Hogwarts
when his godfather parted hastily to carry out Dumbledore's
orders. No news was, of course, very good news itself, but Harry
had to recognize he was a little disappointed about it and angry
with himself at his selfishness at the same time. He knew Sirius
had now a job to do; all the while the Ministry of Magic and
muggle police kept searching for the ruthless killer everybody
thought him to be. He missed his godfather in a way no other
person could fulfil. True enough, Ron and Hermione were the best
friends he could ever imagine having, but there were situations
not even Hermione with the portable library she seemed to carry
inside her head could resolve. After four years of running into
the most incredible adventures, sometimes because he really
intended it, but mostly because the trouble clung to him in all
imaginable ways, beginning with Snape and ending with Voldemort,
Harry was becoming an adult and beginning to understand that he
needed the help of another adults if he wanted to celebrate his
sixteenth birthday. He knew he could turn for help to many people,
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Dumbledore, probably even the Ministry of
Magic if he was in danger, but it seem stupid to talk to them
about more trivial problems. Maybe that was the difference. Sirius
was the only one to whom he could talk about really everything
without feeling that he was wasting the other person's precious
time, not to mention that he could tell Harry all the things he
always wanted to know about his parents. For the first time in his
life Harry was beginning to understand what it was like to have a
parent, somebody with enough experience to help him out when he
needed it and yet trust him to make his own decisions without
nagging at the mistakes he was bound to commit.
One look at the clock told Harry the thing he had wanted to see
since he came upstairs pretending - unnecessary, for nobody in the
house cared – to be tired and ready to sleep. He was already
fifteen years and twenty-two minutes old. Harry's self-control
lasted only so far. In one motion he dived under the bed und
extracted the black envelope with silver letters that combined in
the all too familiar inscription "Purveyors of Aids for the
Magical Mischief Makers Co." Harry opened it with extreme care,
not wanting to damage the envelope that was a piece of art by
itself and more importantly, careful not to miss the tiniest of
details of what could be inside. Two things fell onto his bed one
atop of another. The first was a letter written in familiar
handwriting. The second was a gem the size of a bean, transparent
so that Harry could see a magnified letter F on the place in the
letter where it had fallen. Harry held the object between his
fingers and brought it under the light of his lamp for closer
examination. It was soft and warm under his touch and felt more
like a jellybean than a gem, he realized with surprise. He
squeezed it a little and the contents of the thing, whatever it
was, turned from crystal clear to milk white. The milky core
concentrated in the middle of the gem and begun to turn around and
glow until it formed a little shiny whirl that started to dance
inside the once again transparent gem. It was certainly an
entertaining sight but the use and the name of the object remained
as unclear as before. After contemplating the happy whirl a little
more Harry put the gem aside, observed how it dissolved itself
once the pressure of his fingers was gone and took the letter.
"Dear Harry!
Sorry I couldn't write you sooner. You are being guarded more
heavily than you can imagine after what happened, which is great
except for the fact it's almost impossible to get in touch with
you. I was also hoping to come and see you on your birthday but
now I'm afraid you'll be strangled with your muggle relatives once
more."
Harry left out a long breath. The idea of Sirius coming to Privet
Drive created in his mind an image of a real cool birthday, but it
lasted less then a second to be replaced with images of aunt
Petunia calling the police and than spreading the news of a
dangerous criminal in her garden around their neighbourhood. As
strongly as he wanted a real birthday with somebody whose face
didn't change to a grimace of pain at Harry's sight the fear of
Sirius' capture was stronger.
"However, I'm sending you something that will hopefully help you
to enjoy you birthday party a little more this year. The stuff
you'll find is Voluntariatum, also known as the Mood Changer - the
amount should be enough for 3 angry muggles to become really nice
people ready to fulfil all your wishes for a day. Just slip it in
a drink and be careful not to drink any. You won't get in trouble
with the Ministry by using this at home - their arrangements for
you safety don't include the detection of Mood Changing Potions.
PS - Moony keeps insisting I must warn you against the dangers of
irresponsible use of the potion. The stuff is not exactly
forbidden, but it can cause lots of problems if used in the wrong
place the wrong time. Anyway I trust your judgment - just do not
try to persuade your relatives to give you a pink elephant for a
birthday present.
All best for your birthday
Have fun
Padfoot and Moony"
Harry folded the letter with great care and put it back under the
loose table in the floor with all his other possessions. The
Dursleys allowed him to have his magical stuff in his room this
year (allowed wasn't really the right word - uncle Vernon just
watched Harry take his coffer upstairs without saying a word, his
face stating clearly that he fervently hoped that the trunk would
slip through Harry's hands and land atop of his head after falling
the whole set of stairs). He watched the Voluntariatum gem once
again before switching off the lamp but avoided touching it this
time. If the stuff really worked this was going to be the best -
and the first - birthday party in his life. Harry couldn't
remember ever feeling so happy at Privet Drive, except for the day
when he found out that he was a wizard and was going to study at
Hogwarts. But than he was looking forward to leave the Dursleys,
and now he could hardly wait to see them in the morning.
There was only one thing that bothered him at the moment. The part
of Sirius' letter about his protection added up with some other
things Mrs. Weasley said at Hogwarts, and the conclusion was both
evident and unsettling. He was being watched by the Ministry, and
had been for a long time. Harry thought back of the time when he
got an official warning for using magic outside school in the
summer after his first year. He had then assumed that there were
ways to trace every step of every wizard, but now he knew better.
They certainly couldn't trace everyone if they couldn't find
Sirius, and now that Harry thought of it he had seen Ron perform
many little charms in summer, and his twin brothers Fred and
George had been using more than one highly illegal charm outside
school before they graduated without attracting any attention
except that of their victims.
The idea of being constantly watched by some shadowy people made
Privet Drive seem even more like a prison, but at that moment
there was no nasty thought that could cloud the happiness of being
about to celebrate the first real birthday of Harry's life. He
closed the eyes and tried to imagine uncle Vernon smiling sweetly
at him, announcing that his pink elephant was waiting in the
garden, and aunt Petunia feeding it her best flowers. Harry found
the idea quite appealing and proceeded to adorn it with a very
pink Dudley getting hysterical because the elephant wasn't for
him. The last thing he thought before falling asleep was whether
Ron's father could connect Privet Drive to the Floo Network for
another day. With little luck he would even have guests, and Ron
and Hermione wouldn't have to send their gifts by owl post this
time.
The next day Harry woke up at seven and spent another half an hour
making up different plans for his great hour. The sun was shining
lovely through the window, the smell of breakfast was tempting and
Hedwig greeted him with a playful prick on his finger and the
clapping of her wings, showing with all her movements that Harry
should stop loosing time and finally go and have some fun with the
Dursleys. But Harry wasn't in a hurry. The day was promising to be
the best of his vacations and the success depended only on him.
Both the sweetness of the expectance and the dread of the
definitive moment were almost too powerful to control. Harry put
his clothes on as slow as he could, hid the Voluntariatum pearl in
the pocket of his jeans, opened the door and went slowly down the
stairs counting every single step. Everybody was already sitting
around the table and Dudley was trying to find a place on his
plate for his fourth toast.
Harry was resolved to act as normal as possible, but as he sat to
the table and helped himself to a toast he could feel his heart's
beat down at the tips of his fingers. He mumbled a strangled
"Hallo" that went completely unnoticed and watched the others at
the table. Dudley has failed in finding a free place on his
overloaded plate and finished sending his toast directly into his
mouth together with a spoon full of marmalade. That earned him a
look full of loving reproach from aunt Petunia and no comments of
any kind from uncle Vernon, for he was deep immersed in the
business section of the newspaper. Harry found himself prying no
one of the Dursleys changed a fourteen-year-old tradition and
suddenly took notice of his existence or remembered that today was
his birthday.
He watched Dudley to swallow his toast, take a napkin and clean
the remains of the marmalade from his mouth. He than proceeded to
make a paper ball from it and pretend to take aim in the direction
of Harry's glass of milk. His mother noticed the scene and
confiscated the napkin, but not before throwing Harry a reasonably
ill-hearted look over the table that was immediately mimicked by
Dudley's own ugly smirk. Harry ignored both of them, knowing that
Dudley would never dare to do anything and concentrating instead
on the problem at hand.
All the difficulty of his task and all the things that could go
wrong became slowly evident. What if he poured the Voluntariatum
into the milk jar and it changed colour or started to form whirls
like it did before? The Dursleys wouldn't get very enthusiastic if
their breakfast turned poison green or started to dance around the
table. Harry realized he should have done his little potion
experiment before breakfast and cursed himself for his stupidity.
In spite of getting himself in all the possible troubles he was no
troublemaker at heart. Fred and George Weasley would come up with
a plan in less than a second. Harry smiled as he remembered the
way they tricked Dudley into eating one of theirs Ton-Tongue-
Toffees, even though he was deadly afraid of anything to do with
magic.
The luck was definitely on Harry's side that day, because as he
sat at the table chewing his toast and watching the arrows of the
clock to move slowly as the time passed by and no opportunity
presented itself he heard a loud and inpatient knock on the front
door. Looking up from his plate he saw uncle Vernon to fold his
newspaper with an upset gesture and stand up. He waited for him to
disappear into the corridor and listened to the sound of the
opening door. Than there was a moment of silence followed by a
soft cracking sound that was both incredibly familiar and
completely out of context in the peaceful summer morning at Privet
Drive.
"Vernon? Who is it?" Aunt Petunia was half through her way to the
door, curiosity written all over her face. Even Dudley let himself
crawl down from his stool and was looking at his mother. Such a
good opportunity would be very foolish to miss, and Harry chose to
ignore the situation at the entrance and immediately stuck his
right hand into his pocket, ready to play his first mischief on
the Dursley family.
What happened next made Harry completely forget about the
Voluntariatum for a couple of month at least. The next thing he
heard was a loud BANG and a glass broke in little peaces that fell
on the floor with the sound of raindrops. Harry had no time to
worry about the destiny of aunt Petunia's big foyer mirror,
because the second sound he heard was the most terrible scream his
aunt ever produced. Not even the sad episode with aunt Magda
sustained the comparison. It was clear that the loss of no mirror
in the house could provoke such a reaction in Harry's aunt, no
matter how high it's price or how terrible it's destiny could have
been. The next thing he knew aunt Petunia was in the kitchen,
grabbing Dudley by the waist and proceeding to hide him under the
sink. The task proved to be quite difficult and if she had time to
compare the available space with Dudley's diameter she would have
realized how hopeless her intentions were. She stopped for a
moment, only to throw Harry one of the deadliest looks of loath he
ever had the displeasure to receive. That look finally succeeded
in jerking him out of his paralysis. He could think of only one
thing capable of produce such a mixture of fear and hatred in his
aunt, and the sound he heard a moment ago had sounded familiar for
a reason. A Transfiguration had taken place, a bigger object being
transformed into something much smaller with a typical "plop" he
had heard many times before in Professor McGonagall's classes.
This realization set Harry into action. With a reaction even Mad
Eye Moody would envy he made a run through the corridor, up the
stairs and to the table where his wand was laying without even
taking one look at the front door to find out who was making magic
in his house. Friend or foe, he needed a wand before he faced the
unexpected. Always constant vigilance – he had learned the lesson
well enough.
Harry held his wand tightly in his right hand and headed back
downstairs, only to see that the things were getting even more
weird. Moving down the stairs he was almost run over by Dudley,
who had finally escaped the clutches of his mother and was now
trying to find a hideaway upstairs. A couple of steps behind him
was aunt Petunia. And at the end of the stairs stood Sirius Black,
wand in hand and pointing up in general direction of Harry's
relatives. Harry came to a harsh stop, completely confused at what
the whole matter concerned. His first thought was that Sirius had
come to celebrate his birthday after all, and was so carefree as
to simply walk and knock at the door. Panic started to build up
quickly in Harry's chest and his hands felt suddenly cold and
disobedient. But he instantly knew that his first version didn't
explain anything. Sirius didn't look like the fugitive murderer
whose photo was on the first page of muggle and magical newspapers
two years ago. Dirty clothes, long hair and the empty and hungry
look in his eyes were gone to be substituted by the image of a
handsome young man wearing jeans and a shirt. He looked so normal
it was incredible, except for the wand he was carrying. There was
no way uncle Vernon or aunt Petunia could be scared to death by
the view of a common muggle, even if he had something very similar
to a wand in his hand. In their imagination magic was anything but
normal.
On the other hand, aunt Petunia didn't seem to care about Sirius
at all. The conflict between her fear of magic and hatred for
anything that had to do with it seemed to come to an end and she
stopped right in front of Harry.
"You! I knew you would bring us nothing but trouble! Now do you
dare… How do you dare to… to… live!" she lost her words and
slapped him hardly in the face. The humiliation of it hit Harry
more than the pain itself. He took one hand to his face where his
skin started to burn and screamed angrily
"Why?" He was so taken back that he couldn't think of anything at
all, and the question escaped his mouth before he could control
himself. He was accustomed to the unfairness with which the
Dursleys usually treated him and their way to look at him like he
was some kind of dangerous three-headed monster, but this time it
was completely impossible to swallow. The fact that Sirius had
witnessed it all only made the things worse.
But all his anger was forgotten as he saw Sirius point his wand at
aunt Petunia and mutter a curse. Nothing came from the wand, no
sparks and no light, but Harry knew instantly that the curse had
worked. At the place where a woman stood just a second ago now
moved a big slimy snail. If Harry had looked more closely at this
new guest he would have noticed that its features had a distant
horse-like look. He didn't need to think a lot now to understand
what happened to uncle Vernon after he opened the door and also
had an explanation for aunt Petunia's previous hysterical
behaviour.
"That wasn't necessary!" He managed to let out. He was torn
between the joy of seeing aunt Petunia one inch high and creeping
at his feet and the still persisting feeling of humiliation of
being slapped in front of Sirius and just staying there waiting
for his godfather to rescue him. He was already fifteen after all,
nearly a fifth-grade at Hogwarts and the only one ever to stand up
against Voldemort and live. Two times. And he was still letting
his aunt and uncle to shove him around.
Sirius did nothing to acknowledge Harry's words and with one
movement of his wand transformed Dudley in another snail, this one
smaller than the previous but looking much fatter. Dudley had
first tried to hide in Harry's room, but his head appeared in the
doorframe again as soon as he realized that his mother was about
to give Harry a good lecture.
"Deserves it, after all..." Harry decided that Dudley's fate
wasn't worth mentioning to Sirius. Wasn't this what he was
dreaming about ever since he learned that he had a godfather? But
deep inside him the constant vigilance was back, and the voice of
the reason was telling him that it was impossible that Sirius
would risk coming to Privet Drive and course all his relatives
just to give Harry a memorable birthday party. Only now did he
notice the expression on Sirius' face. The eyes that were once
lifeless and empty shone now with darkness of danger and
determination. He had turned around and sent a locking charm in
the direction of the front door. Harry made the rest of his way
down the stairs only to be stopped by Sirius' grip around his
shoulders.
"Harry, get out of here! NOW! " He found himself being pushed back
upstairs, his worst suspicions confirmed. And than, as Sirius let
him go and turned around to face the door he finally saw them. Two
long black figures with black masks covering their faces, the
standard outfit of the Death Eaters. The door burst open as the
first of the two overcame the locking spell and entered the house,
stepping on the glass and little pieces of wood that were part of
the door a minute ago. Harry couldn't see his face but had the
feeling that the masked man looked directly at him for a moment,
and then inspected the inside of the house. He muttered some words
Harry didn't recognize and a ball as shiny as a little sun came
out of his wand. Harry gripped his own wand even more tightly,
prepared to summon a banning charm, but the sun made no movement
towards them. It floated in front of the Death Eater for a
fraction of a second and than darkened and slowly dissolved
itself. That seemed to be enough for the masked man; his movements
became more sure and relaxed. The Death Eater acted now like he
was in control of the situation. He held his wand pointing at
Sirius, who had stepped forward to shield Harry from the newcomer.
"They are alone, no Watchers here." The man announced to the
second one waiting outside and made a step to the stairs, his wand
always pointing steadily in front of him. Harry could feel Sirius'
hand to squeeze his own a little tighter at this news.
"Nobody will come, Black. Your Ministry won't even realize what
happened until after the Muggle discover the bodies. Nice of you
to drop by. Your victim count is about to go up to fifteen Muggles
and two wizards..."
"Make it twelve Muggles and three wizards, Avery." Harry couldn't
tell if it was his imagination or the Death Eater shifted
uncomfortably at the use of his real name. Sirius made a step
backwards, still insisting on holding Harry behind his back with
his left arm.
"You aren't so naive to think there are only two of us here, are
you, Black? We do our job with great care. The house is surrounded
and masked from the view of any stupid muggle who could happen to
go by. And somebody in the Ministry just happened to have turned
off the Dark Magic detectors around here… A regretful mistake, of
course."
The Death Eater moved his arm almost lazily and the stair behind
Harry disintegrated into little pieces that fell neatly on the
floor. They were now pinned between a pile of debris and two armed
Death Eaters. Harry had the impression that the man wasn't in a
hurry. He was definitely enjoying the situation. The second one
had just come through the remains of the front door, eager to help
Avery to do some killing.
"Segatio!" Sirius' curse struck right between the both Death
Eaters, none of whom could block it properly. A ray of blinding
light came from his wand, drawing a straight line in the direction
in which it was fired. When it reached the masked men it split in
two, attracted by their respective wands. For a second it seemed
that the wands absorbed the light, and then they both exploded
with a wave of blinding light in the hands of their masters.
"Expelliarimus!" Harry directed his curse at the second Death
Eater. It had been more of an instinctive move than a planned
attack. He could tell from Sirius' reaction that the words of the
Death Eater have been a strong blow, but he also realized that the
attackers didn't expect much resistance in the view of their
numerical superiority. Anyway, as long as they fought any thought
of worry was an unnecessary loss of energy and time. Harry saw
that he succeeded in disarming the man, but the wand felt on the
floor not far behind its owner. The man named Avery, with one hand
over his eyes, sent a wide Stunning Curse in his direction. Harry
blocked it just before being pushed behind Sirius once more. He
had conjured a Shielding Charm for both of them that immediately
turned from invisible to smoking grey as the transparent wall was
hit by a couple of heavy Stuns. In the temporary safety of the
shield Sirius turned his attention from the attackers to Harry,
gripped him on the shoulders and repeated again:
"Go!" Harry had no time to object that he wasn't leaving alone, or
that he just couldn't do it because they were pinned between the
men and the remains of the stairs. Sirius pressed some little
object in his palm and closed Harry's fingers around it.
"Go!" He heard once again as the walls of the room began to
dissolve around him as if he was looking through a layer of water,
and he felt that the floor was slowly swimming from under his
feet. The familiar shapes of the house at Privet Drive started to
disappear and Harry closed his eyes, trying to blink away the
shadows that danced in front of him. When he opened them again he
found himself in a room he had never seen before, a Portkey in
form of a medallion still pressed tight in his hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You know the drill: the more reviews, the
faster people write... I don't care if it's a flame, will be happy to know that
you read it. One exception: DON"T complain about spelling and mistakes
except if you want to correct them. In case you didn't notice English isn't
my mother language.
P.S. My grammar gets better after a few chapters as I now have a beta!
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never were. Will probably never be. A huge
thanks to J. Rowling for creating them all and Sirius specially. I hope
the 5th book will have much more of him, just like my own version.
Read and enjoy, and write a review when you are finished.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix
Chapter I: A birthday party
HARRY Potter was lying on the bed, his head resting on the elbows,
a little lamp illuminating the pages of a heavy volume laying open in
front of him. He was doing the same thing
he usually did on summer vacations at Privet Drive - secretly
doing his homework in the latest hours of the night. This time,
though, he was finding it harder to concentrate on the topic he
was studying than anytime before. It wasn't even the Dursley's
fault. Maybe the idea of Harry having a multiple killer for
godfather still had enough power of persuasion after two years of
not seeing any prove of Sirius' existence, or maybe Dumbledore had
done some bit of extreme powerful magic to convince his relatives
to accept him once again for the summer. Harry was sure that only
a Total Memory Sweep Charm would do the trick, making the Dursleys
forget all the trouble he caused in the last fourteen years
(selected examples being the blow-attack on aunt Magda, Dudley's
Ton Tongue, more Dudley torture like a snake attack or a pig tail
and many many others). That or a death threat were the only two
things that could possibly make the Dursleys allow him once more
in their completely normal typical middle-class home. Not only did
they pick him up at King Cross and drove him to Privet Drive
without any comment about the events of the past summer, they even
left him in peace afterwards and allowed him to have all his
school things in his room. They also fed him better than the
previous summer, but considering that he had been in danger of
starving than, it wasn't much of improvement.
Since than Harry was left total and completely to himself. There
was no more harassing or ordering him around, Dudley's stupid
jokes and unpleasant comments about his parents. In fact, there
were no comments of any kind concerning Harry. If he was treated
as if he was an irritating piece of dust on aunt Petunia's
perfectly clean carpet before, now he seemed not to exist at all.
But even for that Harry was grateful. The memories of Voldemort
rising from the cauldron, staying in front of him surrounded by
his army of Death Eaters kept haunting Harry at night. For the
whole summer he had longed to receive some news from the outside
world, to see if anything happened that confirmed his darkest
fears. But the letters from Ron and Hermione assured him that
nothing happened, and his scar hasn't bothered him at all since
the Triwizard Tournament. Harry now paid more attention to the
muggle news in case something emerged from that side, but also
there everything was quiet. It was as if nothing happened in the
whole world. If it wasn't for the events he had witnessed himself,
he would have never guessed that the dark times had never been
nearer since Voldemort's fall.
Harry sat up in his bed and closed the book he had been trying to
study. "Dark curses and contra curses - a quick guide" wasn't in
his list of books for the next year, and despite its name had
proved to be quite a long and difficult volume. Harry got it from
Ron who borrowed it from his father after a week of coming up with
different excuses and making Hedwig, who had to deliver messages
to the Burrow every day, extremely nervous. Harry couldn't
understand his friend's reluctance at helping him to learn more on
the subject. It wasn't like he planned to go after Voldemort, but
perhaps Ron was afraid he could do exactly that. In fact Harry
had come to a point of quiet resignation about the part of his
live that had to do with the dark lord. For some reason the idea
of being the personal enemy of the most terrible wizard of the
modern history didn't scare him anymore. That didn't mean, of
course, that he intended to surrender and wait patiently for him
to come. Harry was determined to learn as much defence against the
Dark Arts as he could. The classes he had had at Hogwarts had been
or very good like the last two years, or simply a loss of time,
and he couldn't know who their fifth defence teacher would be. It
could just be his luck if Snape finally got his great wish
fulfilled.
Harry took a good look at his clock and smiled when he saw that it
was already past midnight. Once again, he had kept the tradition
of staying awake at the night before his birthday. This year,
though, he had a much better reason than homework for doing so. A
letter came today - now it was already yesterday - brought by a
big grey owl he didn't recognize with funny flourish letters on
the envelope forming a return address that made Harry's heart to
perform a little victory dance in his chest: "Purveyors of Aids
for the Magical Mischief Makers Co." The owl greeted Hedwig with a
graceful bow and waited patiently for Harry to untie the envelope.
The bird was done as soon as the letter was safely in Harry's
hands. Harry didn't even have time to write a thank you note. As
much as he wanted to open the letter right away he had enough
strength of will to hide it under the loose table in the floor
until the moment came.
Harry had no problems to guess who the sender of the letter was.
He had no news from Sirius since they said good-bye at Hogwarts
when his godfather parted hastily to carry out Dumbledore's
orders. No news was, of course, very good news itself, but Harry
had to recognize he was a little disappointed about it and angry
with himself at his selfishness at the same time. He knew Sirius
had now a job to do; all the while the Ministry of Magic and
muggle police kept searching for the ruthless killer everybody
thought him to be. He missed his godfather in a way no other
person could fulfil. True enough, Ron and Hermione were the best
friends he could ever imagine having, but there were situations
not even Hermione with the portable library she seemed to carry
inside her head could resolve. After four years of running into
the most incredible adventures, sometimes because he really
intended it, but mostly because the trouble clung to him in all
imaginable ways, beginning with Snape and ending with Voldemort,
Harry was becoming an adult and beginning to understand that he
needed the help of another adults if he wanted to celebrate his
sixteenth birthday. He knew he could turn for help to many people,
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Dumbledore, probably even the Ministry of
Magic if he was in danger, but it seem stupid to talk to them
about more trivial problems. Maybe that was the difference. Sirius
was the only one to whom he could talk about really everything
without feeling that he was wasting the other person's precious
time, not to mention that he could tell Harry all the things he
always wanted to know about his parents. For the first time in his
life Harry was beginning to understand what it was like to have a
parent, somebody with enough experience to help him out when he
needed it and yet trust him to make his own decisions without
nagging at the mistakes he was bound to commit.
One look at the clock told Harry the thing he had wanted to see
since he came upstairs pretending - unnecessary, for nobody in the
house cared – to be tired and ready to sleep. He was already
fifteen years and twenty-two minutes old. Harry's self-control
lasted only so far. In one motion he dived under the bed und
extracted the black envelope with silver letters that combined in
the all too familiar inscription "Purveyors of Aids for the
Magical Mischief Makers Co." Harry opened it with extreme care,
not wanting to damage the envelope that was a piece of art by
itself and more importantly, careful not to miss the tiniest of
details of what could be inside. Two things fell onto his bed one
atop of another. The first was a letter written in familiar
handwriting. The second was a gem the size of a bean, transparent
so that Harry could see a magnified letter F on the place in the
letter where it had fallen. Harry held the object between his
fingers and brought it under the light of his lamp for closer
examination. It was soft and warm under his touch and felt more
like a jellybean than a gem, he realized with surprise. He
squeezed it a little and the contents of the thing, whatever it
was, turned from crystal clear to milk white. The milky core
concentrated in the middle of the gem and begun to turn around and
glow until it formed a little shiny whirl that started to dance
inside the once again transparent gem. It was certainly an
entertaining sight but the use and the name of the object remained
as unclear as before. After contemplating the happy whirl a little
more Harry put the gem aside, observed how it dissolved itself
once the pressure of his fingers was gone and took the letter.
"Dear Harry!
Sorry I couldn't write you sooner. You are being guarded more
heavily than you can imagine after what happened, which is great
except for the fact it's almost impossible to get in touch with
you. I was also hoping to come and see you on your birthday but
now I'm afraid you'll be strangled with your muggle relatives once
more."
Harry left out a long breath. The idea of Sirius coming to Privet
Drive created in his mind an image of a real cool birthday, but it
lasted less then a second to be replaced with images of aunt
Petunia calling the police and than spreading the news of a
dangerous criminal in her garden around their neighbourhood. As
strongly as he wanted a real birthday with somebody whose face
didn't change to a grimace of pain at Harry's sight the fear of
Sirius' capture was stronger.
"However, I'm sending you something that will hopefully help you
to enjoy you birthday party a little more this year. The stuff
you'll find is Voluntariatum, also known as the Mood Changer - the
amount should be enough for 3 angry muggles to become really nice
people ready to fulfil all your wishes for a day. Just slip it in
a drink and be careful not to drink any. You won't get in trouble
with the Ministry by using this at home - their arrangements for
you safety don't include the detection of Mood Changing Potions.
PS - Moony keeps insisting I must warn you against the dangers of
irresponsible use of the potion. The stuff is not exactly
forbidden, but it can cause lots of problems if used in the wrong
place the wrong time. Anyway I trust your judgment - just do not
try to persuade your relatives to give you a pink elephant for a
birthday present.
All best for your birthday
Have fun
Padfoot and Moony"
Harry folded the letter with great care and put it back under the
loose table in the floor with all his other possessions. The
Dursleys allowed him to have his magical stuff in his room this
year (allowed wasn't really the right word - uncle Vernon just
watched Harry take his coffer upstairs without saying a word, his
face stating clearly that he fervently hoped that the trunk would
slip through Harry's hands and land atop of his head after falling
the whole set of stairs). He watched the Voluntariatum gem once
again before switching off the lamp but avoided touching it this
time. If the stuff really worked this was going to be the best -
and the first - birthday party in his life. Harry couldn't
remember ever feeling so happy at Privet Drive, except for the day
when he found out that he was a wizard and was going to study at
Hogwarts. But than he was looking forward to leave the Dursleys,
and now he could hardly wait to see them in the morning.
There was only one thing that bothered him at the moment. The part
of Sirius' letter about his protection added up with some other
things Mrs. Weasley said at Hogwarts, and the conclusion was both
evident and unsettling. He was being watched by the Ministry, and
had been for a long time. Harry thought back of the time when he
got an official warning for using magic outside school in the
summer after his first year. He had then assumed that there were
ways to trace every step of every wizard, but now he knew better.
They certainly couldn't trace everyone if they couldn't find
Sirius, and now that Harry thought of it he had seen Ron perform
many little charms in summer, and his twin brothers Fred and
George had been using more than one highly illegal charm outside
school before they graduated without attracting any attention
except that of their victims.
The idea of being constantly watched by some shadowy people made
Privet Drive seem even more like a prison, but at that moment
there was no nasty thought that could cloud the happiness of being
about to celebrate the first real birthday of Harry's life. He
closed the eyes and tried to imagine uncle Vernon smiling sweetly
at him, announcing that his pink elephant was waiting in the
garden, and aunt Petunia feeding it her best flowers. Harry found
the idea quite appealing and proceeded to adorn it with a very
pink Dudley getting hysterical because the elephant wasn't for
him. The last thing he thought before falling asleep was whether
Ron's father could connect Privet Drive to the Floo Network for
another day. With little luck he would even have guests, and Ron
and Hermione wouldn't have to send their gifts by owl post this
time.
The next day Harry woke up at seven and spent another half an hour
making up different plans for his great hour. The sun was shining
lovely through the window, the smell of breakfast was tempting and
Hedwig greeted him with a playful prick on his finger and the
clapping of her wings, showing with all her movements that Harry
should stop loosing time and finally go and have some fun with the
Dursleys. But Harry wasn't in a hurry. The day was promising to be
the best of his vacations and the success depended only on him.
Both the sweetness of the expectance and the dread of the
definitive moment were almost too powerful to control. Harry put
his clothes on as slow as he could, hid the Voluntariatum pearl in
the pocket of his jeans, opened the door and went slowly down the
stairs counting every single step. Everybody was already sitting
around the table and Dudley was trying to find a place on his
plate for his fourth toast.
Harry was resolved to act as normal as possible, but as he sat to
the table and helped himself to a toast he could feel his heart's
beat down at the tips of his fingers. He mumbled a strangled
"Hallo" that went completely unnoticed and watched the others at
the table. Dudley has failed in finding a free place on his
overloaded plate and finished sending his toast directly into his
mouth together with a spoon full of marmalade. That earned him a
look full of loving reproach from aunt Petunia and no comments of
any kind from uncle Vernon, for he was deep immersed in the
business section of the newspaper. Harry found himself prying no
one of the Dursleys changed a fourteen-year-old tradition and
suddenly took notice of his existence or remembered that today was
his birthday.
He watched Dudley to swallow his toast, take a napkin and clean
the remains of the marmalade from his mouth. He than proceeded to
make a paper ball from it and pretend to take aim in the direction
of Harry's glass of milk. His mother noticed the scene and
confiscated the napkin, but not before throwing Harry a reasonably
ill-hearted look over the table that was immediately mimicked by
Dudley's own ugly smirk. Harry ignored both of them, knowing that
Dudley would never dare to do anything and concentrating instead
on the problem at hand.
All the difficulty of his task and all the things that could go
wrong became slowly evident. What if he poured the Voluntariatum
into the milk jar and it changed colour or started to form whirls
like it did before? The Dursleys wouldn't get very enthusiastic if
their breakfast turned poison green or started to dance around the
table. Harry realized he should have done his little potion
experiment before breakfast and cursed himself for his stupidity.
In spite of getting himself in all the possible troubles he was no
troublemaker at heart. Fred and George Weasley would come up with
a plan in less than a second. Harry smiled as he remembered the
way they tricked Dudley into eating one of theirs Ton-Tongue-
Toffees, even though he was deadly afraid of anything to do with
magic.
The luck was definitely on Harry's side that day, because as he
sat at the table chewing his toast and watching the arrows of the
clock to move slowly as the time passed by and no opportunity
presented itself he heard a loud and inpatient knock on the front
door. Looking up from his plate he saw uncle Vernon to fold his
newspaper with an upset gesture and stand up. He waited for him to
disappear into the corridor and listened to the sound of the
opening door. Than there was a moment of silence followed by a
soft cracking sound that was both incredibly familiar and
completely out of context in the peaceful summer morning at Privet
Drive.
"Vernon? Who is it?" Aunt Petunia was half through her way to the
door, curiosity written all over her face. Even Dudley let himself
crawl down from his stool and was looking at his mother. Such a
good opportunity would be very foolish to miss, and Harry chose to
ignore the situation at the entrance and immediately stuck his
right hand into his pocket, ready to play his first mischief on
the Dursley family.
What happened next made Harry completely forget about the
Voluntariatum for a couple of month at least. The next thing he
heard was a loud BANG and a glass broke in little peaces that fell
on the floor with the sound of raindrops. Harry had no time to
worry about the destiny of aunt Petunia's big foyer mirror,
because the second sound he heard was the most terrible scream his
aunt ever produced. Not even the sad episode with aunt Magda
sustained the comparison. It was clear that the loss of no mirror
in the house could provoke such a reaction in Harry's aunt, no
matter how high it's price or how terrible it's destiny could have
been. The next thing he knew aunt Petunia was in the kitchen,
grabbing Dudley by the waist and proceeding to hide him under the
sink. The task proved to be quite difficult and if she had time to
compare the available space with Dudley's diameter she would have
realized how hopeless her intentions were. She stopped for a
moment, only to throw Harry one of the deadliest looks of loath he
ever had the displeasure to receive. That look finally succeeded
in jerking him out of his paralysis. He could think of only one
thing capable of produce such a mixture of fear and hatred in his
aunt, and the sound he heard a moment ago had sounded familiar for
a reason. A Transfiguration had taken place, a bigger object being
transformed into something much smaller with a typical "plop" he
had heard many times before in Professor McGonagall's classes.
This realization set Harry into action. With a reaction even Mad
Eye Moody would envy he made a run through the corridor, up the
stairs and to the table where his wand was laying without even
taking one look at the front door to find out who was making magic
in his house. Friend or foe, he needed a wand before he faced the
unexpected. Always constant vigilance – he had learned the lesson
well enough.
Harry held his wand tightly in his right hand and headed back
downstairs, only to see that the things were getting even more
weird. Moving down the stairs he was almost run over by Dudley,
who had finally escaped the clutches of his mother and was now
trying to find a hideaway upstairs. A couple of steps behind him
was aunt Petunia. And at the end of the stairs stood Sirius Black,
wand in hand and pointing up in general direction of Harry's
relatives. Harry came to a harsh stop, completely confused at what
the whole matter concerned. His first thought was that Sirius had
come to celebrate his birthday after all, and was so carefree as
to simply walk and knock at the door. Panic started to build up
quickly in Harry's chest and his hands felt suddenly cold and
disobedient. But he instantly knew that his first version didn't
explain anything. Sirius didn't look like the fugitive murderer
whose photo was on the first page of muggle and magical newspapers
two years ago. Dirty clothes, long hair and the empty and hungry
look in his eyes were gone to be substituted by the image of a
handsome young man wearing jeans and a shirt. He looked so normal
it was incredible, except for the wand he was carrying. There was
no way uncle Vernon or aunt Petunia could be scared to death by
the view of a common muggle, even if he had something very similar
to a wand in his hand. In their imagination magic was anything but
normal.
On the other hand, aunt Petunia didn't seem to care about Sirius
at all. The conflict between her fear of magic and hatred for
anything that had to do with it seemed to come to an end and she
stopped right in front of Harry.
"You! I knew you would bring us nothing but trouble! Now do you
dare… How do you dare to… to… live!" she lost her words and
slapped him hardly in the face. The humiliation of it hit Harry
more than the pain itself. He took one hand to his face where his
skin started to burn and screamed angrily
"Why?" He was so taken back that he couldn't think of anything at
all, and the question escaped his mouth before he could control
himself. He was accustomed to the unfairness with which the
Dursleys usually treated him and their way to look at him like he
was some kind of dangerous three-headed monster, but this time it
was completely impossible to swallow. The fact that Sirius had
witnessed it all only made the things worse.
But all his anger was forgotten as he saw Sirius point his wand at
aunt Petunia and mutter a curse. Nothing came from the wand, no
sparks and no light, but Harry knew instantly that the curse had
worked. At the place where a woman stood just a second ago now
moved a big slimy snail. If Harry had looked more closely at this
new guest he would have noticed that its features had a distant
horse-like look. He didn't need to think a lot now to understand
what happened to uncle Vernon after he opened the door and also
had an explanation for aunt Petunia's previous hysterical
behaviour.
"That wasn't necessary!" He managed to let out. He was torn
between the joy of seeing aunt Petunia one inch high and creeping
at his feet and the still persisting feeling of humiliation of
being slapped in front of Sirius and just staying there waiting
for his godfather to rescue him. He was already fifteen after all,
nearly a fifth-grade at Hogwarts and the only one ever to stand up
against Voldemort and live. Two times. And he was still letting
his aunt and uncle to shove him around.
Sirius did nothing to acknowledge Harry's words and with one
movement of his wand transformed Dudley in another snail, this one
smaller than the previous but looking much fatter. Dudley had
first tried to hide in Harry's room, but his head appeared in the
doorframe again as soon as he realized that his mother was about
to give Harry a good lecture.
"Deserves it, after all..." Harry decided that Dudley's fate
wasn't worth mentioning to Sirius. Wasn't this what he was
dreaming about ever since he learned that he had a godfather? But
deep inside him the constant vigilance was back, and the voice of
the reason was telling him that it was impossible that Sirius
would risk coming to Privet Drive and course all his relatives
just to give Harry a memorable birthday party. Only now did he
notice the expression on Sirius' face. The eyes that were once
lifeless and empty shone now with darkness of danger and
determination. He had turned around and sent a locking charm in
the direction of the front door. Harry made the rest of his way
down the stairs only to be stopped by Sirius' grip around his
shoulders.
"Harry, get out of here! NOW! " He found himself being pushed back
upstairs, his worst suspicions confirmed. And than, as Sirius let
him go and turned around to face the door he finally saw them. Two
long black figures with black masks covering their faces, the
standard outfit of the Death Eaters. The door burst open as the
first of the two overcame the locking spell and entered the house,
stepping on the glass and little pieces of wood that were part of
the door a minute ago. Harry couldn't see his face but had the
feeling that the masked man looked directly at him for a moment,
and then inspected the inside of the house. He muttered some words
Harry didn't recognize and a ball as shiny as a little sun came
out of his wand. Harry gripped his own wand even more tightly,
prepared to summon a banning charm, but the sun made no movement
towards them. It floated in front of the Death Eater for a
fraction of a second and than darkened and slowly dissolved
itself. That seemed to be enough for the masked man; his movements
became more sure and relaxed. The Death Eater acted now like he
was in control of the situation. He held his wand pointing at
Sirius, who had stepped forward to shield Harry from the newcomer.
"They are alone, no Watchers here." The man announced to the
second one waiting outside and made a step to the stairs, his wand
always pointing steadily in front of him. Harry could feel Sirius'
hand to squeeze his own a little tighter at this news.
"Nobody will come, Black. Your Ministry won't even realize what
happened until after the Muggle discover the bodies. Nice of you
to drop by. Your victim count is about to go up to fifteen Muggles
and two wizards..."
"Make it twelve Muggles and three wizards, Avery." Harry couldn't
tell if it was his imagination or the Death Eater shifted
uncomfortably at the use of his real name. Sirius made a step
backwards, still insisting on holding Harry behind his back with
his left arm.
"You aren't so naive to think there are only two of us here, are
you, Black? We do our job with great care. The house is surrounded
and masked from the view of any stupid muggle who could happen to
go by. And somebody in the Ministry just happened to have turned
off the Dark Magic detectors around here… A regretful mistake, of
course."
The Death Eater moved his arm almost lazily and the stair behind
Harry disintegrated into little pieces that fell neatly on the
floor. They were now pinned between a pile of debris and two armed
Death Eaters. Harry had the impression that the man wasn't in a
hurry. He was definitely enjoying the situation. The second one
had just come through the remains of the front door, eager to help
Avery to do some killing.
"Segatio!" Sirius' curse struck right between the both Death
Eaters, none of whom could block it properly. A ray of blinding
light came from his wand, drawing a straight line in the direction
in which it was fired. When it reached the masked men it split in
two, attracted by their respective wands. For a second it seemed
that the wands absorbed the light, and then they both exploded
with a wave of blinding light in the hands of their masters.
"Expelliarimus!" Harry directed his curse at the second Death
Eater. It had been more of an instinctive move than a planned
attack. He could tell from Sirius' reaction that the words of the
Death Eater have been a strong blow, but he also realized that the
attackers didn't expect much resistance in the view of their
numerical superiority. Anyway, as long as they fought any thought
of worry was an unnecessary loss of energy and time. Harry saw
that he succeeded in disarming the man, but the wand felt on the
floor not far behind its owner. The man named Avery, with one hand
over his eyes, sent a wide Stunning Curse in his direction. Harry
blocked it just before being pushed behind Sirius once more. He
had conjured a Shielding Charm for both of them that immediately
turned from invisible to smoking grey as the transparent wall was
hit by a couple of heavy Stuns. In the temporary safety of the
shield Sirius turned his attention from the attackers to Harry,
gripped him on the shoulders and repeated again:
"Go!" Harry had no time to object that he wasn't leaving alone, or
that he just couldn't do it because they were pinned between the
men and the remains of the stairs. Sirius pressed some little
object in his palm and closed Harry's fingers around it.
"Go!" He heard once again as the walls of the room began to
dissolve around him as if he was looking through a layer of water,
and he felt that the floor was slowly swimming from under his
feet. The familiar shapes of the house at Privet Drive started to
disappear and Harry closed his eyes, trying to blink away the
shadows that danced in front of him. When he opened them again he
found himself in a room he had never seen before, a Portkey in
form of a medallion still pressed tight in his hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You know the drill: the more reviews, the
faster people write... I don't care if it's a flame, will be happy to know that
you read it. One exception: DON"T complain about spelling and mistakes
except if you want to correct them. In case you didn't notice English isn't
my mother language.
P.S. My grammar gets better after a few chapters as I now have a beta!