Disclaimer—Hell no do I own Harry Potter. Jeez, if I owned HP, I'd…nevermind, I'm not going to share what I'd do with all of the characters. That's the point of fanfiction, duh.
(Oh wait. I own Juana. Yeah. And Flor.)
Okay, so, just to keep you unconfused—this story is going to go back and forth between Harry's time and James's time. And flame me all you want about how the story shouldn't go the way I'm telling it, it's MY story and therefore will be what I want to happen. Not you. Me. Get it? Okay, on with the story.
PS—This is their 6th year. Since I don't feel like making it 7th year and having to incorporate the whole Dumbledor-being-gone thing. Or Snape-being-gone. Or Malfoy-being-gone.
HARRY
Harry Potter awoke with a start as he heard the tapping on the window. He put on his glasses and looked at his hand-me-down clock from his cousin. 3:51. Who the hell is sending me a letter at this hour, he wondered groggily. The tapping sounded even more urgently, so, not wanting to find out what would happen if his uncle happened to wake because of an owl, Harry rolled out of bed and opened the window.
The owl who flew in onto his desk was an unfamiliar one. It stuck out its leg to let Harry take the letter, and then flew over to Hedwig's dish to drink some water (luckily, Hedwig was out hunting).
Dear Harry,
Something's come up, so a group of witches and wizards are being sent to come pick you up on Friday night at 10. Bring all of your school stuff, because you will be spending the remainder of the summer with the Weasleys (and me). I hope all is well with the Dursleys, and we'll explain more once you're here.
--Hermione
PS—Have you received your OWLs yet?
Harry grinned at Hermione's eagerness to learn her grade, but it faded when he reread the letter. What could they possibly have more to tell him? I thought I'd heard it all, he thought. About the prophecy…
No, I don't want to think about that right now, he decided. Harry sat down at his desk and started to compose a response.
Dear Hermione,
You're at Ron's?
My summer's going okay, thanks. My aunt and uncle are terrified of the Order, so they haven't been too horrible to me. They've been ignoring me, and I'm not complaining. I think I prefer it this way, actually.
By the way, how are you guys planning to pick me up? I think my aunt and uncle would prefer it if they were warned about the fireplace this time, if you were planning on Flooing here.
I can't wait to see you all.
--Harry
Harry went to go tie the letter to the owl's leg, then decided not to, so that it could rest. He'd send it off when Hedwig got back. He looked at the clock again. 4:06. Better get some sleep, he thought out of reflex, since past summers had had him up with the sun to do Aunt Petunia's chores.
Harry woke again in a few hours to his uncle's footsteps down the stairs. He sat up slowly, enjoying the peace of not having the various Dursleys order him around. The sound of ruffling feathers made him glance at Hedwig's cage, and upon seeing the strange owl, he remembered Hermione's letter from the night before.
Harry got out of bed and tied his letter to Hermione on the owl's leg. "You get enough rest?" he said to the owl. In response, the owl grabbed another sip of water, and left.
Friday night rolled around, and Harry was running around, packing at the last minute. He kept glancing at the clock, thinking that the minutes had never gone by so slowly. 8:45...9:04...9:16...9:23... Would it never be time to go?
Harry had told Uncle Vernon that he was going to be leaving for the summer, which had gotten a grunt for a response. So I guess Uncle Vernon's perfectly okay with a group of full-grown witches and wizards showing up at our house... he thought with a grin.
The clock downstairs chimed ten just as the doorbell rang. Harry hurried downstairs to get it just as he heared Uncle Vernon saying, "Who the blazes is calling at this time of night?" Harry heard the door creak open and a familiar man's voice say, "Hello, Mr Dursley. Is Harry ready?"
"Yes, I'm coming!" Harry shouted down the stairs. He ran back up to his room to drag his trunk (and to check for any missed sock or quills lying around his room) and Hedwig's cage. He brought them down to see Lupin, Tonks, and a few other vaguely familiar Aurors.
"Hey, Harry, ready to go?" Lupin asked. Harry nodded, and two of the Aurors grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage (Harry had already sent her ahead to Ron's) and Apparated. "They'll be at the Burrow when you get there," Lupin told him. "For us, we've borrowed a couple of Muggle cars."
You'd think that Tonks'd know how to drive a car, thought Harry, seeing as her dad's a Muggle. He smiled when he saw the familiar house, garden, and makeshift Quaffle in the backyard.
"Here we are, Harry," said Lupin as he shut off the car. Harry unbuckled his seatbelt and lept out of the car. "The Burrow. Your stuff should be inside, and I think Molly's prepared you something."
"Thanks," Harry said as he knocked on the door. "Hello?"
"Harry!" he heard multiple voices respond. The door opened and he was buried by a hug from Hermione. "How are you?" she asked.
"He'd probably be able to tell you if he could breathe," Ron said. "How are you, mate?" he greeted Harry.
"Fine..." Harry said with a smile.
"Better now that he's away from his family," Ginny smiled.
"Hey, Ginny," Harry said.
"Mum's made you soup in the kitchen," Ginny told him. "She's worried that the Muggles weren't feeding you."
Harry thanked her and headed into the kitchen, while listening to Ron and Hermione fill him in on what was going on.
"Now that Voldemort's side knows about 12 Grimmuald Place, we can't use that," said Hermione quickly. "So headquarters is kind of all over the place. There are a lot of meetings here, though," she added quietly.
"We're not allowed in, and they won't tell us what's going on, though," said Ron. "Fred and George are living in the flat over their joke shop, which is going well, according to their letters."
"Hello, Harry," greeted Mrs Weasley when they reached the kitchen. "Are you hungry?" Harry was surprised to discover that he was, in fact, quite hungry, so he sat down and had a warm bowl of Mrs Weasley's filling homemade soup, while Ron and Hermione continued filling him in.
"--So you and Ron are living in Fred and George's old room, and I'm living in Ginny's room," Hermione said. "Ron's old room is being used as a room for anyone who just needs to stay a night."
Harry nodded. He finished the soup as Hermione yawned. "You three should get to bed," Mrs Weasley said. "It's late, and who knows what will happen tomorrow?"
As soon as they were out of earshot, Hermione said, "Translation: Tomorrow, the Order's meeting here, I think to tell you whatever it is that they are going to tell you."
"Great," Harry said with a yawn.
When they got to Fred and George's old room, Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage had already been brought there. Hedwig was sitting on top of her cage, and Pig was zooming around his cage.
"Bloody idiot..." Ron muttered at the sight of Pig.
They both fell asleep, wondering what was so important that they couldn't just tell them simply.
The next day was spent nervously playing Quidditch out in the backyard, due to preoccupation over what would be discussed at the meeting. Hermione thought that it was about Voldemort, Ron thought it was something about Sirius, Ginny thought that it was about the Dursleys, and Harry privately thought that it was about the prophecy, that Voldemort had somehow found out the last part of it.
Finally, more and more members of the Order showed up, and the kids were kicked upstairs to their rooms while the meeting began. They waited outside of the (spelled) doors in apprehension to what would be told to them. It took the Order an eternity to go through more of the top-secret stuff before Harry, Ron, and Hermione were allowed inside.
"Sorry, Ginny," Mr Weasley said to her. "Ron, Hermione--"
"We've been over this before, Dad," Ron said. "Whatever Harry learns, he's just going to tell us. Right?"
"Of course," Harry said, though he felt a slight guilt at saying it. The knowledge of the prophecy was eating away at him.
Mr Weasley sighed in resignation, then said, "Fine, then, come in." Ginny made a face, then turned around and went back upstairs.
"Ah, Harry," said Dumbledoor. "How are you?"
"I'm good, sir," said Harry as he looked around at all of the members. It wasn't as many as he'd first thought--just Dumbledoor, the Weasleys (Mr and Mrs, Bill, Fred, and George), Moody, Lupin, Tonks, and Snape.
"Harry," began Mrs Weasley. "We have a few things to tell you." Harry nodded.
"First of all, Harry, there is the matter of Sirius's house and belongings," said Dumbledoor. "They belong to you now."
"Oh," said Harry quitely.
"Including," added Dumbledoor, "His house, and Kreacher."
"I don't want Kreacher," Harry automatically said. He obviously didn't want the creature that had sent Sirius to his death.
"Then, might I suggest as an alternative, have him be sent to the Hogwarts kitchens?" said Dumbledoor with a smile.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, that'd be great."
Dumbledoor nodded. "Now that that's all taken care of," he said, "we can tell you the other news. Harry..." he said.
"You have..another family member," said Mr Weasley nervously.
"I--what?" asked Harry.
A few of the members of the Order exchanged glances.
"Your father..." Mr Weasley tried again. He looked to Lupin for help.
"Harry," Lupin began gently. "You have a half-sister."
Okay, a few author's notes:
A) I don't care how far Harry lives from Ron. In my mind, it's only a couple of hours by car.
B) Just because you review doesn't necesarily mean that I'll have the next chapter out tomorrow. I'll update this when I have time and inspiration. Yes, reviews probably would help, honestly, but I'm not going to not update just because I'm not getting reviews.
C) On that note, if you hate it, feel free to tell me, but tell me why. Don't just say "It sucks go die somewhere." Tell me why.
D) Same as for if you love it.
E) Harry hasn't told Ron and Hermione about the prophecy as of the beginning of this. The fifth year's just ended, remember. Sirius has just passed through the veil. Harry's still trying to cope with that death.
