IF

Chapter One-

If you can keep your head when all about you,

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you-

1.1 Rudyard Kipling

Harry James Potter gazed longingly out the window of number 4 Privet Drive, his gaze fixed on the drops of rain that streaked down the windowpane. He leaned his face against the glass, and sighed. One thought was uppermost in his mind. Cedric.

It had been weeks and weeks ago that that fatal night had to place. Harry closed his eyes and relived those terrible moments again. Wormtail slicing his arm open. Cedric, lying motionless on the ground. Voldemort rising up from the cauldron, born again with Harry's help. The shadows of his parents emerging from Voldemorts wand. And Cedric, Cedric asking for Harry to return his body to Hogwarts.

It was all too much; Harry allowed one fat tear to escape from his eyes, and trickle down his cheek, blending in with the rain. It was all his fault.

Of course nearly everyone he knew saw otherwise. The Weasley's, Sirius, Professor Dumbledore, even the Diggory's had put every ounce of energy into convincing Harry that he had no control over it all. In a way, Harry would have preferred to blame himself, than know that people could die, just like that, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Almost as though they knew what he was thinking, Pig- Ron's over excitable owl- crashed headlong into Harry's window. Unexpected as it was, it did succeed in jerking Harry from his reverie. He rushed to open the window, and Pig flopped onto the floor in front of him, with a proud yet bemused look in his eyes after successfully completing his mission. Harry allowed a ghost of a grin to cross his face as he picked up and examined the letter. He was surprised to see that the writing wasn't Ron's untidy scrawl, but a neat, sloping handwriting. He ripped open the letter.

Harry,

Hey, how are you holding up? You were probably expecting a letter from Ron, but he can't really do, well, anything at the moment, thanks to mum. You know Quidditch is on again this year? Well, Ron's been working really hard this summer to try and train up for the position of keeper, and he kind of got carried away with it a bit. He enchanted a rock to act as a quaffle, but he got the charm a bit wrong, and it ended up conking mum in the back of the head! Once she got over the concussion, she wasn't best pleased, and she banned Ron from leaving his room for the next four weeks. Poor Ron!

Anyway, we're all going down to London next Wednesday, can you make it for then, Hermione will be there too. Well, if I don't see you then, it'll be on the Hogwarts Express! And Harry, do keep your chin up, won't you?

Love From

2 Ginny

Harry put the letter down, the grin now spreading across his face. Poor Ron!! He could almost see the fed up grimace on the face of his best friend. He looked down again at the letter. Ginny was really all right, once she stopped hiding behind doors and blushing beetroot whenever he was near her. He remembered with a chuckle the singing dwarf valentine that Ginny had sent to him during his second year. Fred and George, Ron's elder twin brothers, still hadn't let him forget it. He made a silent promise to himself to get to know Ginny better at school this year as he folded the letter and placed it on his desktop, where it added to a mounting pile of mail, labelled with Ron's crazy scribblings, or Hermione's tidy writing. Hermione had in fact (and much to Rons' delight) turned down Viktor Krum's offer to stay in Bulgaria, and was currently on holiday with her parents in Jersey, celebrating her appointment as prefect. Harry smirked at the thought of Ron's glee when he heard Hermione's decision, and he moved his eyes onwards. That was when another letter caught his eye. This letter was not nearly as friendly, and the person who wrote it clearly blamed him for what had happened. Tears again fought their way to the surface as Harry read this letter for what seemed like the thousandth time.

To Harry,

I could not talk to you about this while we were still at school, because I just wasn't thinking then. Now though, I think I need to get if off my chest.

Why Harry? Why was it Cedric? Did you really have no control over it all? I thought you were the Boy Who Lived, couldn't you have done something to stop him? Or did you want it to be Cedric who died and not you? Did you think that with Cedric gone, I might start to like you? I see the way you look at me, the way you go red when you talk to me. Was winning more important than Cedric?

I don't think I can talk to you from now on, can you please do your best to stay away from me. I don't want to end up hating you Harry, but I'm sorry, I do blame you.

Cho Chang

Harry remembered all the times he had dreamed of winning the Triwizard Tournament, and seeing the look of approval on Cho's face. Waves of guilt coursed through him, and Harry collapsed down on the bed, feeling nauseous. He prepared himself for the dreadful retches which would come, he had been sick before with the guilt, and with the fear. Because even after everything that had happened, there was still more to come. Voldemort was out there, and he wasn't going to stop until Harry was dead. Harry bent his head upwards, drenched in sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now. And then an explosion came from downstairs.

Harry instinctively grasped for his wand, and flung his door open, racing down the stairs of the Dursley's neat and orderly house. Above him he could hear the below of uncle Vernon, clearly furious after being disturbed from his sleep. Harry didn't really care what uncle Vernon thought; he was still counting down the days until he could leave the Dursleys forever.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs, and proceeded more cautiously into the kitchen. He could see the empty pizza box still on the table- the one which Dudley had smuggled in without his parents finding out. But, other than that, there was nothing. And yet Harry was sure he had heard that explosion, surely he hadn't dreamt it?

It was just then that Uncle Vernon staggered into the room, panting after running down the stairs at that pace. This, and his incredible anger, sent his normally pinkish face a fire engine red.

'Boy! What is the meaning of all this?' Vernon wheezed, the veins in his temples throbbing madly.

Harry was saved from answering by the sudden of appearance of five death eaters in the kitchen of number four Privet Drive.

Harry's heart stopped beating.

The foremost death eater removed himself from the group and stepped forward towards Harry and Vernon, barely registering the look of unmistakeable fury on Vernons face. He bent down and spoke directly to Harry.

'Today is your lucky day Potter.' Even behind a cloak, Harry could recognise the lazy drawl of Lucius Malfoy, the father of his arch nemesis at school, Draco.

'What do you mean?' Harry managed to spit out. His throat was thick with pure hatred for the older man.

'The Dark Lord it seems, is willing to make you an offer, though Lord only knows why. He is willing to spare your life, in return for your services as a Death Eater'

This stopped Harry in his tracks. Voldemort wanted him? He thought back to a time he never really knew, when his parents had dies to fight for good, to fight for him, and knew immediately what his answer would be.

'Never!' The word rang through the kitchen like a gunshot, even uncle Vernon was surprised at the ferocity with which Harry yelled his answer. He soon regained his composure, and stepped forward, his bushy moustache shaking with anger.

' See here you, I don't know who you think you are, but..'

Uncle Vernon never stood a chance. The moment he had become aware of his presence, Malfoy had raised his wand, and uttered those words that Harry knew so well.

'Avada Kedavra'. Vernon was dead within a second. For the third time in his life, Harry had watched another human being die. Harry then gave into his anger, he let his fury course through his entire being, felt it spurting from his fingertips, filling him with a never before felt power. He didn't pretend to be sad for his uncle; his fury came from pure stubbornness, a refusal to sit back helpless whilst things fell apart around him. It was time for a change. He felt that change in his body, as if something in him, something he had been holding back for so many years was finally breaking out, more powerful and more violent than it was before.

Malfoy regarded Harry again, and what he saw in the boys face gave him a slight twinge of something unexpected, fear. Every line of Harry's face was etched with frustration and pent up fury. And, as if the room were responding to his actions, every single object in the kitchen began to fly at the death eaters. An invisible wind whipped through the air, sending the death eaters running for their lives. Harry wasn't aware of it, but he was at the moment surrounded by a shining white light, which seemed to magnify the aura of power he was giving off.

Lucius was, needless to say, disturbed, but he was still determined to carry out his mission. Gripping onto the tabletop, he pointed his wand at the young boys chest, and prepared to utter those deadly words once more. A blinding green light shot out the tip of his wand, it fought its way towards the light that Harry was radiating, and, incredibly, died the moment it entered the sphere surrounding Harry. Lucius ducked down, fearing another wave of wrath mounting in Harry, but there was nothing. He cautiously peeked his head above the tabletop, and peaked around him. Harry had gone.

Several hundred miles away, on the front lawn of Hogwarts castle, Harry Potter appeared out of mid air, and collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.

'How is he, Poppy?'

'Still the same headmaster'

Harry heard the words as though he were standing in a dense fog; the words were muffled and unclear. He tried to open his eyes, and found that it required too much energy. He instead focused on trying to hear what those voices were saying.

'But how, headmaster? I don't understand, you simply cannot apparate onto Hogwarts grounds, it's impossible'.

'Impossible to everyone except Harry, I presume.' Even though he had his eyes closed, Harry could almost envision the twinkle in Dumbledores eyes.

'And Severus said that Malfoy was in a state, that Potter stopped the killing curse again, how does he do it?'

'That, Poppy, is a complex matter, and one which Harry must be informed of. It is time he took his place in the fight between good and evil'

'But he's just a child!'

'He is, Poppy, much more than that.'

The conversation was interrupted by the doors to the infirmary slamming open, and hurried footsteps pattering over the stone floor. Then Harry heard a voice which made him melt with relief, that of Sirius Black, his Godfather. Harry hadn't heard from Sirius all summer, a fact that made him feel both worried, and a tad hurt.

' Dumbledore, what is it? What's happened, is he alright?' Harry could feel Sirius bending over him, and could imagine the concerned frown which must be crossing his brow. Deciding that he should have a stab at speaking, Harry cleared his throat ever so slightly, causing the room to go silent. He finally gained control of his eyelids, and snapped them opened. The faces of Sirius, Madame Pomfrey the matron, and Professor Dumbledore, swam into focus. Sirius broke into a smile.

'Harry mate, good to see you, good to see you.'

'Lo Sirius' was all that Harry could manage. It caused Sirius' smile to spread a little wider, before he was pushed out the way as Madame Pomfrey bustled forward.

'Out of the way Black, this boy needs medical attention'

Only Dumbledore had remained where he was, staring at Harry with an odd sort of smile on his ancient face. Harry allowed himself to meet Dumbledores steady gaze for a moment. It was then that he remembered, he was now back at Hogwarts, he could feel truly safe again.

'Professor,' he mumbled. 'I have a few questions, if you'd care to answer them'.

'Of course Harry, but all in good time. What you are in desperate need of now is sleep. Poppy, would you see to that?' this question caused MadamePomfory to practically run over to the medicine cabinet.

'Once you are fully rested, Mr. Potter, I and the rest of the Order shall await your company in the phoenix dungeon.'

With those words Dumbledore swept from the room. Sirius then stood up and spoke to madam Pomfrey.

'Poppy, I'd like to stay with Harry, if it's alright with you.'

Madame Pomfrey muttered her consent, and interrupted Harry's train of thought by shoving some foul tasting liquid down Harry's throat. He had been thinking about what Dumbledore had just said. Order? Phoenix dungeon? What was he on about? And just what had Dumbledore been saying before that, about him taking his place in the fight?

Harry was just beginning to think properly about all these questions, when the potion he had just swallowed started to take effect, and he thought no more.

Four hours later the sun was setting outside the infirmary window, and Harry awoke. He rubbed his eyes, initially forgetting where he was. He soon remembered, as the events of the past twenty-four hours came rushing back to him. He stepped gingerly out of bed, and, glancing about for the presence of Madame Pomfrey. He ascertained that the coast was clear, and stepped out of the infirmary. He wondered off down the corridor, savouring the feeling of just being back at Hogwarts, this was his home, it was where he belonged. He stopped in his tracks, by an odd yet beautiful sound that drifted through the air. It seemed so familiar, what was it? Harry forced himself to think back to last year, to that time, just after the tournament, and it was then that he remembered. Of course, Phoenix song

The music seemed to be leading him down a passage off the side of the corridor. Harry had an odd feeling it hadn't been there before. He stepped down the stone stairway, and found himself facing a wooden doorway, its handle flickering eerily in the candlelight. Harry grasped the cold metal and opened the door, stepping over the threshold.

He found himself in a round, high ceilinged room, its rafters stretching miles above. In the centre of the room was a huge, circular wooden table, and around this sat nearly all of Harry's professors, Sirius, Hagrid, Remus Lupin, and to Harry's great surprise, Mrs. Figg, his elderly next-door neighbour. He smiled in surprise, and she returned his grin, the twinkle in her eyes seeming all too familiar.

Harry had found that his entrance had caused quite a stir in the room. Every face turned towards him, and whispers fanned out across the room like a slowly spreading fire. Dumbledore called silence, and turned to Harry.

'Mr. Potter, we would like to welcome you to the Order of Phoenix. Ever since you were born, you have been destined to join this circle of wizards, fighting the evils of the magical world. You were born with a great weight upon your shoulders Harry, for you possess incredible power. You carry with you the legacy of none other than Merlin, the most powerful wizard ever to walk the planet. You can tip the balance of this entire battle, and you hold within you the power to destroy Voldemort forever. I am so sorry for never telling you any of this Harry, but we felt it was right to wait until you came into your powers. I can tell this is a shock for you, but you shan't be fighting alone, for there is another who too possesses the legacy of Merlin, because centuries ago, Slytherin, yet another incredibly powerful wizard, somehow found out how to duplicate the power, and passed it down again.'

Dumbledore paused, giving Harry a moment with which to process all that he had said. It was like being hit with a ten-foot wall. He gave up trying and instead decided to start asking questions.

'Is that why my parents were killed then?' He said in a quiet, unreadable voice. Sirius turned pale and tried to stand, Lupin held him back.

'I will not lie to you Harry, yes, that is why. They died to protect you, for the greater good of the wizarding world.'

'It's alright, I just needed to know that', again Harry sounded numb, it was as though he hadn't taken a word of what Dumbledore had said in.

'Professor, who is the other one?'

'Well Harry' his headmaster replied, 'it is in fact someone you know. You see him regularly, and you share an unusual bond, which will need to be strengthened for when you have to face Voldemort. However, whilst this boy will help you, it is you who must strike the killing blow'

Through all the confusion, and all the shock, Harry felt his heart leap. Ron! It must be Ron, he and Ron would be working together to bring down Voldemort!

'Severus' said Dumbledore, 'let the young man in please'.

Severus Snape gave Harry a cold glance, as if to remind him that despite their change of situation, nothing had changed between them. Harry found himself recovering quickly enough to glare back. Snape strode to the door and yanked it open. Harry stood on tenterhooks, waiting to see that familiar flash of red hair, and found his jaw dropping to the floor.

Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway.



DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING. Its all JK Rowlings, and the poem is Kiplings. Great people.