Harry Potter and the Song of the Phoenix

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry, Ron, Hermione, or any other recognizable character in this story!!

A/N: I am no and never ever will be J.K., and I won't try to be! So, obviously, our styles of writing will be much different. Usually, her stories are more sensible and not as dark or serious as mine will turn out to be! Also, another thing, I haven't yet laid my hands upon the fifth book and I just want everyone to know that my story takes place after the forth and anything similar between my story and the fifth book is purely coincidental!! And, one more thing, there will be slashing galore in this, you know, maybe a little HG/RW…..CC/HP….or something else……..

So, I hope you weren't so board that you left cause I am going to get on with my story right…………now!

Chapter One: Revenge so Sweet

The summer had been long and hard. One of the worst for Harry. More work, less to eat. It was almost as if they had dropped him completely, given him the shaft and told him "You can live here, just don't come into eyesight". You may call him crazy or insane, but Harry actually missed the summers before his first year at Hogwarts. At least then, they'd give him more rations of food and at least he had more of a variety of clothing.

He had been so close that one summer, back after his third year. He had caught up with the infamous Sirius Black and learned that he had been his godfather. If Pettigrew hadn't gotten away, Harry would be living blissfully with his godfather, a dream come true that would bring a fantastic end to his inexistence at the Dursley's. But, unfortunately, it had fallen into the true category of the old saying, "it's too good to be true,"

Never had Harry been more anxious to get back to Hogwarts. His missed all his friends, and in particular, his two best friends; Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. All their plans and schemes to protect the innocent at Hogwarts had brought them up through the years and Harry was looking forward to more. Surprisingly enough, Harry even missed Draco Malfoy, the bad seed of Hogwarts, but still adding to the splendor of it all.

But, most of all, Harry missed Cho Chang, a girl from the year ahead of him. He prized her beautiful white smile that beamed his direction when he passed her. Though, as many teens his age had gone through, Harry wasn't sure she liked him back.

Just a few more weeks, a few more weeks of hell and Harry would be back. Back at Hogwarts and back with Hermione and Ron. Hogwarts was his home, his sanctuary, his safe haven. People cared for him there.

Harry sat there, alone, in the dark for a few more moments, thinking about Hogwarts when there was a light tap on the dim window sill. Harry propped it open for Hedwig to soar through. She was carrying a few hefty packages of pretty proportional size; they were birthday presents. There was one from Hagrid, Sirius, Hermione, and Ron, as normal. The same had happened the two years before. The Dursley's had not cared to remember his birthday and his friends did. Harry's heart soared as he tore the rapping from each present, some easy to figure the reason of why he had received them. Hermione had given him the new Barry Jotter book, third in series, Barry Jotter and the Shazkaban Prisoner [A/N: sorry, little inside joke from my friend Darcy and I!!! You might be able to get it, I'm pretty sure you would!!]

Ron had gotten him a broom brush, used to straighten and shine the tiny bristles of his firebolt. Hagrid gave him a unicorn do-it-yourself caring kit (The gift he was unsure of the use he would get from it). The last present was from Sirius. Harry pulled away the brown paper from the miniscule box and slowly pulled the lid off. Inside, resting on a petite red cushion was a tiny flute. Harry gently pulled it from the case and brought it to his lips. He tenderly blew into it. The noise that came from it was so beautiful, it could make Trolls weep tears. There was just one thing Harry had forgotten, and soon her would know what was coming for him.

Harry buried the gifts under his bed as a monstrous voice called from the next room. "HARRY POTTER!! WHAT WAS THAT NOISE!!" Uncle Vernon came bolting into his room, his steps thundering the through the room and shaking the floor boards. The door to Harry's room flew open in anger. "WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BOY! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT TIME IT IS?? HUH??" Uncle Vernon paused and Harry figured it was his opportunity to answer. "S----Sorry….Uncle Vernon," Harry measly muttered.

"YOU BETTER BE SORRY, BOY, BECAUSE THIS ISN'T HAPPENEING AGAIN!! ONE MORE NOISE AND YOU'RE GONE! OUT ON THE STREETS! NO SHELTER, IN THE FILTH AND GARBAGE!" Uncle Vernon presaged, waving a finger inches from Harry's nose. "IF ONLY YOUR FREAK OF A MOTHER HADN'T GONE TO GET HERSELF BLOWN UP AND YOU ON OUR DOORSTEP, WE WOULDN'T HAVE TO PUT UP WITH YOUR ASS! CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY, BOY, MOST OF YOUR KIND WOULDN'T BE TOLERATED!! COME TO THAT, I'M GLAD YOUR MOTHER DIED, ONE LESS ABNORMAL WHORE IN THE WORLD!"

Uncle Vernon was blowing steam. This was the last straw from Harry. He had put up with his uncle's shot for far too long. Before Harry could react, Dudley had come waddling into Harry's room. Aunt Petunia, who had been furiously coward behind Vernon, turned Dudley around, leading him back to his room.

"What's happened mum?" Dudley had curiously asked, rubbing his eyes as if he were still two years old.

"Nothing, pumpkin. Let's get back to bed," Petunia began to leave the room before she muttered. "Come on, Vernon,"

Vernon's red hot face left Harry's as he turned to leave the room. "You got me, boy?" Harry couldn't stand it, pressure point zero and his blood boiling in ferocity.

"No," Harry muttered through huffs of hot breath.

"What, boy?" Vernon turned back to Harry, his face still bright red.

"I said NO! I'M TIRED OF YOUR SHIT, UNCLE VERNON!" Harry yelled back.

"DON'T EVER USE THAT TONE WITH ME!" Vernon was once again face to face with Harry. Vernon's nose inches from Harry's. The hot breath tickled Harry, but that didn't stop Harry. He was still overflowing with anger.

"EVER SINCE I WAS A FUCKING KID, YOU HAVE TREATED ME LIKE A HORSE OF HORSE SHIT! LIKE I WAS NOBODY! WELL, FRANKLY, I'M TIRED OF IT. MY MOTHER WASN'T A WHORE. SHE WAS A DECENT PERSON WHO CARED! HOW DARE YOU INSULT HER INFRONT OF ME! DO WHAT YOU WANT WITH ME, UNCLE VERNON, NOTHING WILL CHANGE HOW I FEEL ABOUT THAT! I ADMIT, I'M DIFFERENT AND I'D RATHER BE THAT THAN BLUBBER AND BONES LIKE DUDLEY! YOU KNOW WHAT UNCLE VERNON, I AM LUCKY, LUCKY THAT I'M NOT SELFISH AND SPOILED LIKE HIM AND THIS WHOLE FAMILY IS! YOU'RE A FUCKING ASS HOLE AND I'D RATHER HAVE NO FAMILY THAN BE IN YOURS!" Harry roared at the top of his lungs, feeling some-what regretful, but at the same time, so damn happy that that was off his chest. Vernon, on the other hand, wasn't so cheerful. His left hand rose high above Harry's face and slammed against his cheek. Harry tumbled to the floor, holding his hand to the bright red mark on his face that seared with pain.

"YOU ARE A PIECE OF SHIT AND LIFE WOULD BE A HELL OF A LOT BETTER IF YOU WEREN'T HERE TO BLESS US WITH YOUR PRESENCE!!"

Tears of pain and hatred swelled in Harry's bright emerald eyes. Vernon picked Harry up from the floor by the ear. "Looking for more, you know where to get it!" Vernon darkly threatened, throwing Harry on the bed by the ear. Harry sat on the bed, thinking it was over, but it had just begun. Vernon yanked Harry up by the arm and led him downstairs. The cabinet under the stairs lay open and Vernon threw Harry inside. "This isn't over, Harry," Vernon slammed the cabinet door shut and locked the chain. Harry listened as Vernon angrily stomped up the stairs and into his bedroom.

Harry wiped the burning tears from his face. He lay back on the mattress still left from the summer before Hogwarts and stuffed a hand in his left pocket. Harry felt something in there, it was the box from Sirius. He pulled his out and opened it. There, the flute rested, put back exactly before Vernon had reached Harry. But, when Harry had first opened the bow, he hadn't noticed the note beside the flute. Harry pulled the note from the bow and pulled the string to get light.

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! What are you know, 20, 25, 30? Yes, I know you're fifteen!

Harry, keep this flute close to your side, through the worst, this flute can help. You need me, play the song on the back of this paper and I shall reach you as soon as possible. You have come to a hardship, never fear, for this flute is destined to assist the weak in times of matter.

Sirius

Harry pulled the flute to his lips, one more blow wouldn't hurt, after all, what worse could happen? The song rolled off his tongue, as if he had played it many times before. Lasting but a few seconds, bringing a little rest and relaxation to him, making him almost forget the sobbing pain on his cheek.

The wind around the house howled ferociously as another thunderous noise erupted from somewhere close, but it wasn't Vernon. Someone was outside the door, rapping on the white oak door.

A/N: What do you think?? Good?? Any improvements? ONLY CONSTRUCTIVE please!!!! Love you guys!!!