The Year of the Mogursaitem

Title: The Year of the Mogursaitem, Chapter One- Like the Winds of a Hurricane

Author Name: Ellie Anne

Author Email: ellie_anne@emotionalist.org

Category: everything! Romance, bit of sadness, action, adventure, and comedy!

Keywords: Harry, Hermione, Draco, Ron, Ginny

Spoilers: all four published HP novels by JK Rowling.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: It's going into Harry's 7th year at Hogwarts, and the dark has risen again, causing a black cloud to seep into everyone's lives. This chapter takes place during the summer, basically going over everything that's happened in the years that JK Rowling's books left off, and this started. Not too extremely exciting, but the next chapters will get better.

Disclaimer: I don't claim any of the characters, names, or situations originally written by Ms. Rowling. Nothing by her is mine, of course. Her world is her world. J

A/N: Yeehaw, yet another series in the HP world. This is my first well-developed series, and I hope everyone will enjoy it. (and I'll try to keep the clichés at a minimum!) Don't get a bad idea from just this chapter; it hasn't even started getting into the real point of the series. So…yes. Enjoy!

The Year of the Mogursaitem: Chapter One

Like the Winds of a Hurricane

"Yeah, but now we're going round in circles

Tell me will this déjà vu never end?" –Spice Girls, Say You'll be There

Evil, Harry Potter decided, was like a hurricane. Especially this dark, foreboding evil. It would start out small, gaining power as it went along, all the time hurting people and damaging places, faster and faster and faster. It would climax, the final blow striking, and stop suddenly. It would be over (or so it seemed), and people would quietly resume their lives. Little could they possibly imagine, that but they were in the eye of the hurricane, and the strong winds were gaining strength again as the hurricane came back around, fast fast fast. It would hit again, unexpected. Unless. Unless, perhaps, you knew that it would come back. You couldn't be fooled by this storm; you were smarter and faster and brighter. And you could tell everyone that it would be back, yet no one would believe you, seeing the world through fazed eyes, not wanting to believe what was right in front of them. But the hurricane would retaliate back, it always did, and you were able to say you knew it would the whole time. Still, that didn't save anyone.

Yes, evil was like that. And Lord Voldemort certainly qualified as evil.

Harry Potter, who might seem an ordinary teenager at first glance, regarded Ron Weasley's bedroom ceiling with cold eyes, laying on his back, arms folded behind his head. He thought quietly about everything that had gone on in the past three years, all starting with that blasted Goblet of Fire. The trouble started much before that, he supposed, back to the original reign of Lord Voldemort, when Harry's parents were killed and Harry Potter became the famed boy who lived; the only person, Muggle or wizard, who ever lived through a Voldemort attack.

Everyone thought the Dark Lord was gone then, and it certainly had seemed so. But others, smarter others like Albus Dumbledore, had not let the eye of the hurricane suck them in with false pretense. And when Bartemius Crouch Jr. had pretended to be Alastor Moody, his disguise guarded by polyjuice potion, and fooled that blasted Goblet of Fire into letting Harry play in the Triwizard Tournament (under another, fourth school, of course), that had been the beginning kick off of Voldemort's return. Even Albus Dumbledore, perhaps the wisest wizard, be it now or ever, wouldn't have been able to stop it after that. No, it was left up to fate, or the wizards who could change fate.

Harry could hear bursts of chatter coming from a couple stories below the room he was in, a product of the many people staying at the Weasley household. Another ingenious idea of Dumbledore's, of course, an extra step to make sure that Harry and his friends remained safe. Harry sighed, rolling off the cot that he called a bed, which was situated in Ron Weasley's bedroom just for him. He glanced at the magical clock on Ron's bedroom wall, the hand pointing at "Too Late For You To Be Getting Up." He groaned, getting up off the floor and stretching his long limbs before trudging slowly out of the bedroom and to one of the bathrooms in the Burrow, the Weasley's house, a few doors down.

He knocked somberly on the closed door, which proceeded to fly open, George Weasley standing in front of Harry with a slight grin on his face. George was one of the infamous Weasley twins, and had graduated Hogwarts, the magic school that Harry attended, two years before. George and Fred had opened up their own magical jokes shop in the wizarding area of Ottery St. Catchpole last year, and since then had opened two more locations, one in Hogsmede and one in Diagon Alley, their goods becoming increasingly famous. According to Fred, they were looking into making their chain of stores global, possibly opening a location in Ireland and maybe other places around the world.

"G'morning- er, well, sort of morning- Harry!" George said jovially, clapping Harry on the shoulder. Harry looked at George with a studious glance, a befuddled look appearing on his face.

"George…what time is it? And why wasn't I woken up?"

Again, George gave Harry a grin. "Erm, it would be…" George regarded his watch, "Just about noon! You know, Harry, you do look very cute when you're sleeping. You tend to drool." George laughed, hit Harry's shoulder again, and walked out of Harry's view, down the stairs. Harry rolled his eyes, turning on the shower in the bathroom, taking his clothes off and jumping in.

The warm water running down Harry's back, he let the steam take control of him, his thoughts returning to the previous years at Hogwarts…

***

It was Harry Potter's fifth year, and Dumbledore had just summoned him to his office. Harry, escorted by Professor McGonagall, wondered quietly if this had anything to do with the new rise of the Dark. Climbing up and up the stairs to Professor Dumbledore's office, Harry's thoughts became wilder as he tried to figure out why he could possibly be there.

Once in Dumbledore's office, Harry looked around. There was no one there. He looked up at Professor McGonagall, his eyes questioning. "Professor…?"

Minerva McGonagall gave him a thin-lipped smile, taking him by the elbow. "This way, Potter," she said with an air of authority. She dragged Harry over to the wall, near Fawkes's cage. There was a mural on the wall right behind the cage of a phoenix, and Professor McGonagall pressed her hand softly against the phoenix's face. The wall opened up slowly, showing a dark chamber. Harry gave a surprised look to Professor McGonagall, and she indicated with a nod that he was to go into the chamber.

Professor McGonagall grabbed a torch off the wall in the chamber, and walked briskly alongside Harry, the chamber hallway going on for what seemed like forever. Finally, they came to a stop at what seemed a dead end. Harry turned around, but he couldn't see the opening where they first came in. The Professor took out a necklace from her robes, and placed the charm in a whole in the wall. A door swung open quickly, and a large, lit conference room was revealed. Harry, bewildered, took a look at the many familiar faces sitting around a large table in the room; Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Professor Snape (to Harry's much distaste), Remus Lupin, Rubeus Hagrid, and finally Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher, both whom Harry had really met this year.

Albus Dumbledore stood up, his chair making the only sound in the otherwise silent room. "Harry, this is the Order of the Phoenix. A group of wizards and witches dedicated to serving our side and stopping Voldemort at all costs, chosen by myself. The people you see seated around the table are the people I hold the most trust in; my coven. The Order of the Phoenix used to meet monthly, here in this room, but we haven't had a meeting since we lost two of our favorite members, and you lost your parents." Professor Dumbledore bent his head, and the rest of the members followed, a look of sorrow upon everyone's faces.

"Most of us," Minerva McGonagall said gently, her eyes quickly darting to look at Professor Snape, "were chosen in our fifth year here. We took great care in choosing our members, and it was our members, who, of course, were targeted. We have also lost the Longbottoms, who were two of the most dedicated people I've ever seen. But now that Voldemort–," she cringed, "is back in power, we need to start choosing members again."

Dumbledore's dangerously twinkling blue eyes met with Harry's green ones. "You–as well as Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley–are our first choices. Hermione and Ron will learn about the Order next month, but we believe that we couldn't be quick enough in making you a member. That is, if you're willing to join."

Harry, dumbstruck, managed to find his voice. "Y-yes," he croaked, "it would be an honor."

Professor Dumbledore nodded, a slight smile upon his face, obviously knowing that Harry would accept the offer. He gave a look to Arthur Weasley, who cleared his throat and stood up.

"Here is the Order oath. Please repeat everything I say, Harry." Harry mumbled an 'ok', and Mr. Weasley continued. "I, as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, will do the best I possibly can to insure the safety of all members of the Order, any Muggles, and any peoples who chose to be on our side. I will take any precautions to make sure that no one finds out about the Order, and I will never repeat anything talked about in this room. I promise I will never turn against the Order and against this oath, and that I will do anything the Order Leader(s) ask me to do to help our side." He stopped, Harry repeating everything.

"All right," said Dumbledore, the obvious Order Leader, "Now that you've said the oath, which you will be magically bound to, we can place the Mark on your skin." He beckoned Harry to come closer to him, and Harry did so, his thoughts once again wild. A mark?? Like the Dark Mark?

Professor Dumbledore took Harry's right arm and placed his wand to Harry's shoulder. Harry suppressed a shudder, and a tingling feeling went throughout his body, feeling a bit like ice, although it wasn't unpleasant. Dumbledore removed his wand, and pulled down Harry's robes off of his shoulder, to show a small, phoenix-shaped mark, which looked like a scar.

"Only the person who bears the mark, fellow members of the Order, and people you want to will be able to see this, Harry. No one knows what it means but us, and if anyone asks, you shall tell them that you got a scrape there and didn't let it heal properly."

Harry nodded numbly, and sat down in a chair that Dumbledore indicated, noticing that Professor McGonagall had already sat down. "Members of the Order," Dumbledore began, "Welcome to our first meeting in fourteen years."

***

Harry looked at the mark on his shoulder while he was in the shower, running a wet finger over it. Hearing someone calling his name, he turned the water off, grabbing a towel, which he wrapped himself in. When he pulled open the bathroom door, the steam swished out in puffs, and the normal temperature of the house hit him with a shiver.

"Yeah?" he called in the direction that the voice was coming from, and saw Ron Weasley on the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall. Ron, like himself, had grown into his body, looking less awkward than in his earlier years. He was still very tall, but less gangly and more built, and for the first time in his life, started getting a lot of attention from girls.

Ron laughed and gave Harry a sardonic look. "Just making sure you weren't dead. You were in the shower for quite a long time."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Harry said, and couldn't help giving his best friend a smile back, which slowly disappeared. "I was…thinking."

Ron sobered up and said, "Never, Harry, was there a greater need for thought then now."

Harry contemplated what Ron had said, and supposed he was right. Yet it was odd to hear a serious thought from Ron; when had he changed from being a clear adolescent, with clearly adolescent thoughts to…more adult? Perhaps it was during last year's school term…although Harry preferred to keep school year from his thoughts as much as possible. He grunted in response to Ron's remark and said, "You know Ron, I rather fancy I should go get dressed. Knowing your mum, she won't like it too much if I ruin her carpet."

Laughter emitting from Ron and a nod of the head, Harry smiled and turned around, walking slowly back to Ron's room, his thoughts drifting unwillingly to his sixth year. Harry was a prefect…

***

"Remember, you must try to keep your first and second years calm at all times. If…if a tragedy happens to anyone's families, I expect you to report it to either Professor Dumbledore or I, so we can handle the situation," said Professor McGonagall, wringing her hands. She was talking to an anxious group of prefects as well as the Head Girl and Head Boy…anxious because this was the third emergency prefect meeting that Professor McGonagall had ordered in the last month. Truth be told, I'm quite a bit anxious myself, Minerva McGonagall thought to herself. "You are excused."

As chairs scraped across the floor in a deafening way, Harry Potter stood up, Hermione Granger with him. "Attack on a tourist group of witches and wizards today in Greece," Hermione muttered out of the corner of her mouth to Harry. "Supposedly a Hufflepuff fourth year, Elli-Eleni Raptis or something like that, had an uncle in Greece who was giving the tour. Don't know if it's true or not, but the point is that McGonagall caught wind of it, and wanted to make sure that the prefects report everything from now on, just to make sure that rumors don't get out of hand."

They hadn't noticed it, but as Harry and Hermione had been talking, their feet had been taking them slowly back to the Gryffindor common room out of familiarity, and they gave each other sheepish smiles, not realizing that they'd lost themselves in idle talk. "Flubberworms," Harry said to the picture of the Fat Lady, who scrunched her nose and said, "Whatever you say, darling."

Once back in the common room, Ron Weasley, ran up to them, the Evening Prophet clutched in his hand, bombarding Hermione and Harry. Almost every student in the school had taken out subscriptions to the Daily Prophet, the Evening Prophet, and the Late Night Prophet to make sure that they were kept up-to-date on the news on Dark attacks; Ron Weasley was certainly no exception, especially now that money was coming in in a steadier flow from the extra help of Fred and George.

"Attack in Italy," he panted, pushing the paper into Harry and Hermione's faces. "Eight Muggle-borns, three purebloods that were known for helping our side, and five Muggles."

Hermione grabbed the paper frantically, her face turning a slightly greenish color. "My Aunt Mildred moved to Italy for an internship for just this year," she cried, scanning the paper quickly, running her finger down the print. "Oh…oh my…" she groaned.

"Your aunt?" Harry asked timidly, and thankfully Hermione shook her head.

"No, not my aunt, but my aunt's fiancé…oh, she never liked me, and now she'll hate me just because I'm a witch!" Tears, which held pain, but also anger, frustration, and worry, started falling rapidly down Hermione's face.

"Hermione, don't worry," said Ron softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. Hermione turned red, and preoccupied herself with reading the Evening Prophet again. Her eyes turned large like owls', and she gave Harry a frightened look.

"Harry, they're getting closer to Britain with every attack," she said quietly, handing the paper to Harry. It turned out she was right. Starting from very southern countries, the attacks were progressing farther up the map, until they would come to Britain. "It's their final destination–I think they're coming for you."

Harry looked at the paper, dumbfounded. Could it be possible that Voldemort was coming for him, once and for all?

Months later, at the end of the school term, on the Hogwarts Express–

"So Dumbledore's set up a bunch of wards around my house, or that's what my dad told me," said Ron, to Hermione and Harry. "My parents will be there to meet us when we get off the train, and I think yours will be too, Hermione. This is great! The first whole summer we ever get to spend with each other!" Not quite so great, Harry thought, his mind drifting to the horrors that had occurred throughout the year. "…They've added a bunch of new rooms on to our house, so we'll all fit in comfortable. Me, you guys, my family, Hermione's parents, Sirius, Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher…it's gonna be wild! Bill's bringing his wife, Morgaine, of course…." Ron kept talking excitedly about what a wonderful summer they were going to have.

Suddenly, the Hogwarts Express came to a complete halt. Ron, who had been sitting across from Harry and Hermione, was thrown into their faces. Bewildered, he stood up, dusting himself off. The lights flickered for a few moments, and went out.

"Wonder what's happening," Harry said, taking a strong grip on his wand. There was a crash and a scream from somewhere forward on the train. Harry gave Hermione a nod, and she stood up with him, ready to go. "We're prefects," Harry explained to Ron. "It's our duty…"

Ron set his jaw stubbornly. "I'm coming with, anyway."

So they set off in the dark towards the front of the train, trying to find where scream had came from. Noticing a huddle around one compartment, they quickened their speed.

"We heard a scream," said one Ravenclaw second year. A Hufflepuff first year chimed in, "The door's locked…"

Harry pushed away the crowd, and finally emerged near the door. "Alohomora!" he bellowed, the door swinging open. There, slumped against the seats on the floor, was Cho Chang, shaking, with tears streaming down her face. Cho, who had become one of Harry's good friends this year, had just graduated Hogwarts, was Head Girl of her year and Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, and was very much loved by almost everyone in the school.

"Cruciatus Curse," Cho whispered through clenched teeth. Harry, who was kneeling on the floor by Cho, looked up at Hermione in alarm. She nodded her head, and took action. "Somebody get a conductor, or an adult who can be in charge." Noticing the students gathered around the compartment just standing there, she shouted, "Now!"

Although Harry no longer had a crush on her, Cho had become almost an older sister to him, and he hated to see her in this state. Holding her gently in his arms, he asked softly, "Who did this to you?"

"Voldemort," she choked, handing him a blank piece of paper. Harry looked at it, puzzled for a moment, and then was struck by an idea.

Touching his wand to the paper, Harry murmured, "Aparecium."  Words started forming on the pages, and they became a letter. Harry scanned it over clearly, fury building in his eyes.

Harry Potter,

You have been lucky this time, but next time I attack, it will be closer to your heart. You and I have some unfinished business to attend to. Don't bother trying to change fate, it will only delay your death.

The note was unsigned, but it was blatantly obvious whom it was from. Hermione put her hand on his back, and he handed her the letter, but as soon as she started to read it, it lit up in blue flames and disintegrated in her hand. Ron was outside the compartment, trying to calm the crowd, but with no avail.

"I was going to every compartment, checking on everyone," Cho started quietly. "As soon as I walked into this one, the door locked behind me, and there was this terrible man –who looked like a snake- standing there. I knew who he was, of course, but before I had the chance to scream, he had the Curse on me, and I was in such pain… I suppose I must have screamed then. That paper dropped on my head, and the pain stopped…he was gone."

"Here dear, you need to eat some chocolate," said the elderly witch who came around with the tea cart, coming into the compartment and waving Harry and Hermione out of it.

***

That had been the last attack, Harry thought, and it wasn't even a murder…at least he had that to be grateful for. Harry had been getting dressed the whole time he was thinking, and was now fully ready to make an appearance downstairs. The attacks just stopped, he thought to himself, shuddering.

He started walking down the two slightly crooked stairs to the Weasley kitchen. The familiarity of the house made Harry grin; he loved feeling like he was in the company of people who really cared about him

"Hi, Harry," Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, said as he walked into the kitchen, throwing him a ham sandwich. Harry caught it with ease and thanked her. He was famished.

Eating his sandwich, he looked at Ginny, who was cleaning up the kitchen. Her thick, deep orange hair fell in ringlets to her small waist. She was, in general, a very petite girl, and her hair gave her an air that made people want to stare at her. She had changed too, in the past couple years, Harry realized. She was no longer exceptionally quiet, but seemed more thoughtful…wise. And she's grown into her body, as well, Harry thought, blushing as Ginny looked into his eyes, catching him staring at her.

"Well, it's about time you got up, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley said jovially, coming in from outside with Mrs. Granger in tow. "We've just been out getting some food…for tomorrow night's dinner." Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger gave each other a secret, motherly smile.

Harry would have responded (although he didn't really know what to respond to!), but Hermione Granger came down the stairs, humming to herself. She had on a sleek burgundy bathing suit, which made Mrs. Granger cluck her tongue disapprovingly, but Hermione didn't seem to notice, letting herself get caught up in the euphoria of the moment and letting all her worries slip away. "I think I'm going to go have a dip in the lake," she said, referring to pond/lake that was hidden behind the forest on the Weasley's property. "Harry, Ginny…you both want to come along? I think Ron might already be out there, and Fred and George."

At that moment, a tawny owl flew in through one of the Weasley's windows, and dropped a small package at Hermione's feet, once again flying out. Hermione picked it up, looking at it strangely. She opened it with everyone watching, and a badge that read "Head Girl" fell out onto the floor. Hermione looked ecstatic as everyone started congratulating her, but started paling as soon as she read the letter. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed, handing the letter to Ginny.

"The head boy is–" Hermione started, but Ginny cut her off.

"DRACO MALFOY!" was the angry exclamation from the redheaded girl.

It was then that Arthur Weasley chose to appear, with Ron. They had come in from outside, Ron clad in only his damp bathing suit. Hearing the Malfoy name mentioned, Mr. Weasley started a heated conversation with anyone who was listening about how the Malfoys were dodging his department again. Ron mouthed, "Come on," and nodded his head toward the door, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny following him outside.

"Mind you, I hate that slimy git with a passion, but I've heard that same conversation so many times that it makes me sick," Ron said, once they were outdoors, the hot sun beating on their backs. "In any case, I came in to see if you all were coming swimming. The water's perfect. By the way, Herm, congratulations! I saw the badge on the floor," he added at Hermione's look of confusion.

"Thanks…. Well, I've got my bathing suit on," said Hermione, making an obvious statement.

"Me too, under my clothes," piped in Ginny.

Harry laughed and said, "Considering I don't want to get drawn in to that conversation back in the kitchen, I'll just come swimming in my boxers."

Just as they were nearing the trail through the woods that lead to the open pond, a cry came out. "Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!"

Harry, surprised, recognized the voice, and turned around quickly, his eyes widening. "Dobby?!" he exclaimed.

An odd, small creature, with large eyes and a long nose, adorned in purple and yellow striped tie and mismatching socks, ran up to Harry and wrapped his legs in a hug. "It is I, sir! Oh, I heard you were staying with the Wheezys, and I just had to come see you!"

Harry, who hadn't seen Dobby since his fourth year at Hogwarts, knew that Dumbledore had gotten Dobby a job as ambassador to the house-elves at the Ministry of Magic. "Er…how are you doing, Dobby?"

Dobby burst into tears, and looked up Harry with sad eyes spilling with water. "Dobby needs the great Harry Potter's help again, sir! Dobby needs–" Whatever came out of his mouth was hard to hear, through Dobby's sniffles.

"What is it, Dobby?" Harry said, leaning down to the house-elf, hearing Ron and Hermione shuffle behind him.

"Dobby is in trouble, Harry Potter, sir!"

~*~

A/N: Mmkay, that wasn't too great of a chapter because I had to explain what happened in the previous two years…not too exciting. Next chapter: why Dobby's in trouble, Harry in boxers (ooo-er!), a real plot (hooray!), secrets and plans, and perhaps some snogging! Thanks to Lady Lily, AuthorByNight, and ~*Tinkerbell*~ for beta-reading (actually, an especially big thanks to Tink, because she did a very *thorough* job of br-ing.), and Sammie and Jessica C. Malfoy for giving me their honest opinions.