1 HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

Chapter One

UNEXPECTED VISITORS

The sky was particularly dark on this late night in August. Millions of stars filled the sky, yet to the young boy gazing out a window from number four, Privet Drive, it seemed so empty. Harry was usually exuberant when another school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was soon to begin, but this year would be different.

So many memories of his past year were still vivid in his mind, and Harry couldn't help but remember all the horrible ones. He thought of being turned down by his dream girl Cho Chang, the talented and beautiful Ravenclaw seeker. He mused how he and Ron had almost thrown away their blood-brother friendship over a petty argument. And of course he remembered his dreaded mortal enemy Voldemort rising once again and mercilessly murdering a fellow Hogwarts student - Cedric Diggory.

Closing his eyes solemnly, Harry sent a silent prayer to all those people who had suffered, all those whom he had lost. So many people would continue living day-to-day, shielded from the true concerns in life. Never would they have to worry that their loved-ones were at risk. Never would they have to fear that they might need to live without their security someday. Theirs was a life unburdened by the horror of realization. Theirs was a life Harry would never know.

He wanted to be able to live a normal life, one without constant fear and unwanted attention. But even more so, he wanted to keep these burdens from his closest friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. They had gone through the same terrible experiences and would surely understand his disquiet. Harry could only hope that they were coping with these events better than he was.

A distant howling of a dog could be heard from outside, and Harry was roused from his thoughts. He figured he better get going on his summer work. After pulling out a stack of books, he flipped to the Potions homework (describe the effects of adding the different magical species of fungi to the main potion we focused on during class last year). Only a slime ball teacher like Snape would ever assign such work over the summer. Just thinking of the Potions master Snape gave Harry a shiver down his back. That man had quite a dodgy past, and Harry still wasn't sure if he could be trusted, even though Dumbledore had so much faith in him.

Harry groaned, and mumbled under his breath, "Why didn't Hermione get an owl instead of the furball?" He dropped to his bed and lay upon his stomach as he thumbed through the pages of a book, hoping to find some indication of what potion they had focused on in class last year. Did Snape really expect anyone (besides Hermione, of course) to listen to his droning, endless lectures? But even reading his wizarding schoolbooks was more interesting in comparison to listening to his selfish cousin Dudley's relentless complaints about how his school Smeltings doesn't provide enough gravy during lunch. Anything was better than listening to porky Dudley Dursley.

With a start, Harry bolted upright. He had heard a scraping sound from outside his window. Harry hesitated and wondered what he should do. On the one hand, it could be a delivery owl from Hogwarts. On the other, it could be another one of those "Dobby incidents." Harry decided to take a chance and open the window.

Picking up one of his heavy leather-bound texts, he inched towards the window again and cautiously opened the window. No owl appeared bearing packages and letters. No elf popped out of the tree branches shouting incoherent lines (although things like that weren't too unlikely to happen to him, especially at all the wrong times). In fact, Harry didn't see anything or anyone outside.

Assuming it was just the likes of a squirrel, he began to shut the window. Just then, something zoomed into his room at breakneck speed just a few inches from his face. Harry reacted quickly, turning his head to catch a glimpse of the mysterious object. His reflexes were quick and allowed him to see that the flying object was extremely small, gleaming, and about the size of a walnut. Harry recognized it immediately - the Golden Snitch.

He had no idea where it could've come from, but he was determined to find and catch it. He had to, before the Dursleys woke up and stormed into his room screaming. Besides, it would be great practice for Quidditch, which was the most popular wizarding game played on broomsticks. Being cooped up like an old rooster probably did horrors to his seeker techniques.

The Golden Snitch zoomed back and forth in no particular pattern, making it quite difficult to catch. What made the chase even harder was all the clutter in his room (which made Harry realize that he really should clean his room more often, even though most of the crap was Dudley's old toys). Although he tried to be as quiet as possible, Harry couldn't help but trip over several stacks of books, almost knock over Hedwig's cage, and nearly run straight into the wall. At one point, the tiny trinket flew right into Harry's shin, causing it to smart terribly.

Harry was now creating quite a bit of noise, and he swore he could've heard the Dursleys waking up. Finally, Harry managed to catch the elusive Snitch, although it was quite by chance that the small golden sphere flew straight into his opened hand. Just at that second, Uncle Vernon burst into his room wearing green plaid pajamas and grey socks.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?" he screamed.

Harry stood there for a while, not quite sure what to say. Uncle Vernon looked as if he were about to explode. Aunt Petunia, who was still wearing her nightcap, and a very droopy Dudley stood behind him, peering into the room. They were all waiting for an explanation.

The one thing that Uncle Vernon hated more than anything was abnormality, and Harry was definitely abnormal. He stood there, red and furious. Dudley also looked very red and puffy, but that was obviously for a different reason. Harry was glad he never saw Dudley at this early in the morning before - it wasn't a pleasant sight. Dudley absolutely beamed as Harry stood in hot water.

Even through all the sticky situations he had faced at Hogwarts, Harry had to comb his mind for some kind of excuse to get out of this one. Not that it would really matter, though - an exhausted Uncle Vernon was an angry Uncle Vernon.

"Er...heh, I daresay that was quite a feat of sleepwalking," said Harry quietly.

Uncle Vernon was still fuming with disbelief, but to Harry's surprise, the situation was simply left alone. After all, it must have been almost three in the morning. Uncle Vernon went back to his room, followed closely by Aunt Petunia and a very disappointed Dudley. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed onto his bed. He knew there would be much worse the following morning, but until then he decided not to give it another thought. Harry fell asleep without even taking another glance at the strange object that was still gripped tightly in his hand.

***

The following morning, Harry was tired and sluggish. He had spent so much time trying to find that little Snitch that he was completely worn out. He stood in front of a mirror and tried to fix his unruly jet-black hair, even though he knew it would never fall straight. He stared long at the only memory he had of his deceased parent - the strange lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Sometimes it was painful to think of them, and how they had given their lives to save his. Harry quickly wiped his glasses with a towel and then walked slowly down the stairs.

Surprised that he hadn't heard a single demand of him yet, Harry reached the kitchen but found no one there. Then he realized that it was already ten o'clock. Why hadn't Aunt Petunia screamed for him to wake up? Why hadn't Uncle Vernon forced him to get the paper? Why hadn't Dudley thrown his stinky socks onto his bed? A strange feeling began to churn inside of him. The Dursleys were always in the kitchen in the morning.

Harry ran from room to room searching for any sign of them. On usual circumstances, he would have been exuberant if they left him alone in the house for weeks on end, but this time it seemed too unusual. Dudley's backpack was still propped against his bedroom wall. Uncle Vernon's tidy suit was still hanging on the closet door. Aunt Petunia's grocery list was still posted on the refrigerator door.

The entire house was silent and still, and when there came a sharp RAP RAP RAP on the front door, Harry nearly jumped off his feet. He walked over and tried to peer out the window, but couldn't see anyone. He opened the door just slightly but saw no one there. Suddenly, a man and woman appeared out of nowhere right in front of him. Harry could tell they were wizards, for the man was wearing a bright green cloak and the woman a black witch hat with red stars. They were both also wearing black robes with a silver fastening.

"Good day, Mr. Potter," said the man in a serious voice.

The woman smiled, trying to be a little bit friendlier. "Harry, I'm sure you don't recognize us. My name is Arabella Figg and this is Mons Iubeo. We work with the Ministry of Magic."

Harry stood frozen. Arabella Figg was his babysitter - the cat- owning woman with the house that reeked of cabbage two streets away. But she never looked quite like this. She no longer appeared old, mad, and muddled. Rather, she seemed rather young and intelligent.

"Yes, Harry," she said, as if reading his mind, "I have pretended to be that muggle for so many years. I did this to protect you, watch over you. Of course it was just awful to have to act so...well...mad, but it was the only way to keep people from trying to visit my home and such. It's full of Ministry objects, you see. Apparently, your Uncle and Aunt realized that someone as strange as I wouldn't be spreading rumors about their "abnormal" nephew -"

Harry remained silent the whole time. It didn't seem that things could get any stranger, but suddenly another wizard was beginning to Apparate at the front door of number four, Privet Drive. It took a moment for Harry to figure who, but when he did, he became inclined to throw a something at him, something hard.

"Ah, Severus," said Mr. Iubeo. "Surely you know Severus Snape, Harry." Snape glared at Harry with cold eyes. He was never quite fond of Harry and his friends.

"Yes, of course," said Harry reproachfully.

"The headmaster just wanted me to make sure that the two of you inform him of the important news," said Snape, who had turned back to Mr. Iubeo and Mrs. Figg.

"Oh, right. Harry, we know you must be worried about your relatives, the Dursleys, but we assure you that they will be fine," said Mr. Iubeo. "We are doing everything we can to figure out how Vol -"

"In the interim, however, we think it would be best for you to stay at your godfather's residence," interrupted Mrs. Figg quickly. Harry's pale face suddenly brightened, and the sparkle in Harry's bright green eyes returned. "Just go pack the things you need for the new year, and we'll be back in an hour, alright? Sorry it has to be so sudden, but we mustn't waste too much time here."

Mr. Iubeo and Mrs. Figg waved goodbye and then promptly Disapparated again. Snape, however, stayed behind for a second to throw in an extra note of encouragement to Harry before he left.

"You seem to have lots of free time on your hands, Potter. Perhaps you'd like an extra assignment? Write up a two-page report about the differences between the potions described in chapter eight of Magical Drafts and Potions. I trust you'll have both assignments fully completed before class starts again. Oh...and tell Sirius I send my best regards. Enjoy the rest of your break." With a smirk on his face, he quickly disappeared.

Harry muttered something undistinguishable under his breath, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then slammed the front door. He raced up to his room and hastily packed his schoolbooks into the trunk, along with his wand, school robes, and equipment. Just then, Harry realized that he never really examined the little gift he received yesterday night, so he reached under his bed and took out the Broomstick Servicing Kit that Hermione had given him two years ago for his birthday. He had left the Golden Snitch inside the sleek black case that morning.

Harry opened the box and quickly snatched the ball before it could eagerly take flight again. As he held it, he immediately saw that it was not a normal Snitch. For one thing, the orb was embossed with many strange designs. They were incredibly fine and detailed, but Harry could make out a central picture of some kind of creature - a bird perhaps - surrounded by mountains. There seemed to be many markings encircling the creature, but they were much too small for Harry to discern. He would've stood there all day inspecting the strange object, but he remembered he had to pack.

Stuffing all his remaining belongings into another trunk, and grabbing Hedwig's cage, Harry rushed down the stairs. When he reached the living room, he began staring impatiently out the living room window, then he would pace and glance at the clock, then peer out the window again. It was a vicious cycle. He couldn't wait to see his godfather again - he was always kind and honest to Harry. And as far as Harry knew, Sirius was the closest link to his parents.

***

True to her word, Mrs. Figg returned in exactly one hour, at 11:24. However, neither Mr. Iubeo nor Snape was there, so Harry could loosen up a bit. What Harry didn't quite understand was how they were going to get to Sirius's house - Mrs. Figg hadn't brought anything back. She just waited by a lamppost dressed like a normal person with a pocket watch in her hand.

Harry left the house, dragging his trunk and other possessions behind him. Mrs. Figg hurried over to help him out.

Mrs. Figg then stood by the street staring at her pocket watch. She seemed entranced, or very concerned about the time. Harry didn't want to bother her, but there were so many questions floating around in his head.

"Er - Mrs. Figg, I mean - well -" started Harry.

She looked up briefly and then smiled warmly. "Go ahead."

"Er - a couple years ago, Aunt Petunia told me you broke your leg so you couldn't watch me that day. But if you're a witch, why didn't you just heal yourself? I mean, I lost all the bones in my arm once, but Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse, she just grew -"

Mrs. Figg chuckled a little and said with a smile, "Harry, I didn't really break my leg. I just had a really important Ministry meeting that day so I needed an excuse. I was thinking about saying that another one of my cats died or that a clan of rabid groundhogs ravaged my lawn, but those seemed kind of strange. It's amusing how many excuses muggles can use to get out of things." She paused for a second to look back at her pocket watch and then the sky. "Ah! All right then. So are you ready, Harry?"

"Ready for what...?" began Harry, who stopped when he heard a faint rumbling from up above. Harry lifted his head to find the source of the ruckus, but he couldn't quite believe his eyes. Sirius Black was looking down on Harry and smiling as he hovered atop a massive motorcycle.