Harry packed his trunk up in the dormitory on the night before his return to wherever he was going to spend his vacations. He was impatiently waiting for the Leaving Feast, when the winner of the Inter-House Championship would be announced.
When he, Ron, and Hermione entered the Hall, they saw that the Great Hall was decorated in red and gold for the Leaving Feast. Harry felt a lighter and brighter to see Gryffindor winning the House Cup for fourth year in row. Given this, the Gryffindor table was the loudest and the cheeriest of all. Harry could see Draco Malfoy sulking at the Slytherin table.
The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. Harry couldn't blame him; Moody's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk.
The weather could not have been more different on the journey back to King's Cross than it had been on their way to Hogwarts the previous September — when it had been raining heavily — to put it lightly. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky today. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had managed to get a compartment to themselves.
Pigwidgeon was once again hidden under Ron's dress robes to stop him from hooting continually; Hedwig was dozing, her head under her wing, and Crookshanks was curled up in a spare seat like a large, furry ginger cushion. Harry, Ron, and Hermione talked more fully and freely than they had all week as the train sped them southward, and played a number of rounds of Exploding Snap till the lunch trolley arrived.
When Hermione returned from the trolley and put her money back into her schoolbag, she began telling them about Rita Skeeter being an unregistered Animagus. She was still going on when the compartment door opened.
"Very clever, Granger," said Draco Malfoy.
Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him. All three of them looked more pleased with themselves, more arrogant and more menacing, than Harry had ever seen them.
"So," said Malfoy slowly, advancing slightly into the compartment and looking slowly around at them, a smirk quivering on his lips. "You caught some pathetic reporter, and Potter's Dumbledore's favorite boy again. Big deal."
His smirk widened. Crabbe and Goyle leered.
"Get out," said Harry, as he gripped his wand under his robes.
"You've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you, you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!" He jerked his head at Ron and Hermione. "Too late now, Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's ba—"
It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. Blinded by the blaze of the spells that had blasted from every direction, deafened by a series of bangs, Harry blinked and looked down at the floor.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all lying unconscious in the doorway. He, Ron, and Hermione were on their feet, all three of them having used a different hex. Nor were they the only ones to have done so.
"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," said Fred matter-of-factly, stepping onto Goyle and into the compartment. He had his wand out, and so did George, who was careful to tread on Malfoy as he followed Fred inside.
"Interesting effect," said George, looking down at Crabbe. "Who used the Furnunculus Curse?"
"Me," said Harry.
"Odd," said George lightly. "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor."
Ron, Harry, and George kicked, rolled, and pushed the unconscious Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle — each of whom looked distinctly the worse for the jumble of jinxes with which they had been hit — out into the corridor, then came back into the compartment and rolled the door shut.
"Exploding Snap, anyone?" said Fred, pulling out a pack of cards.
The rest of the journey passed pleasantly enough. Soon, the Hogwarts Express was pulling in at platform nine and three-quarters. The usual confusion and noise filled the corridors as the students began to disembark. Ron and Hermione struggled out past Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, carrying their trunks. Harry, however, stayed put.
"Fred — George — wait a moment."
The twins turned. Harry pulled open his trunk and drew out his and Cedric's Triwizard winnings.
"Take it," he said, and he thrust the sack into George's hands.
"What?" said Fred, looking flabbergasted.
"Take it," Harry repeated firmly. "I don't want it, neither does Cedric."
"You're mental," said George, trying to push it back at Harry.
"No, I'm not," said Harry. "You take it, and get inventing. It's for the joke shop."
"He is mental," Fred said in an almost awed voice.
"Listen," said Harry firmly. "If you don't take it, I'm throwing it down the drain. I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long."
"Harry," said George weakly, weighing the money bag in his hands, "there's got to be a thousand Galleons in here."
"Yeah," said Harry, grinning. "Think how many Canary Creams that is."
The twins stared at him.
"Just don't tell your mum where you got it . . . although she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it. . . ."
"Harry," Fred began, but Harry pulled out his wand.
"Look," he said flatly, "take it, or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now. Just do me one favor, okay? Buy Ron some different dress robes and say they're from you."
He left the compartment before they could say another word, stepping over Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were still lying on the floor, covered in hex marks.
As Harry got on the platform, he was surprised to see Remus Lupin waving over to him, waiting for him.
"Over here, Harry," he said.
"See you, Harry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.
" 'Bye, Harry!" said Hermione, and she did something she had never done before, and kissed him on the cheek.
"Harry — thanks," George muttered, while Fred nodded fervently at his side.
Harry walked with Remus Lupin to a grim neighborhood, where they abruptly came to halt in front of the wall joining number eleven and number . . . thirteen?
"Here," Remus whispered, giving a piece of parchment to Harry. "Read quickly and memorize."
Harry looked down at the piece of paper. The narrow handwriting was vaguely familiar. It said:
The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.
"But where's —?" Harry began to ask, clearly confused as he looked at number eleven, then at thirteen, and then back at eleven.
"Think about what you've just memorized," said Lupin quietly.
Harry thought, and no sooner had he reached the part about number twelve, Grimmauld Place, than a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way. Harry gaped at it. The stereo in number eleven thudded on. Apparently the Muggles inside hadn't even felt anything.
Harry walked up the worn stone steps, staring at the newly materialized door. Its black paint was shabby and scratched. The silver door knocker was in the form of a twisted serpent. There was no keyhole or letterbox.
Lupin pulled out his wand and tapped the door once. Harry heard many loud, metallic clicks and what sounded like the clatter of a chain. The door creaked open.
"Get in quick, Harry," Lupin whispered. "But don't go far inside and don't touch anything."
As soon as Harry entered the hallway, he found himself enveloped in a warm hug, as Lily Potter fiercely hugged him.
"Hi mum," he wearily muttered.
"Tired?" his mother asked, concerned, as she relieved him of his luggage when he nodded and led him to a door on his left.
He was sandwiched between two adults as soon as he stepped inside.
"Padfoot . . . dad . . . can't breathe!" he cried, grinning.
"How's my favourite godson?" Sirius asked, settling back on a sofa.
"I'm your only godson," Harry said.
"Still the favourite," replied Sirius, grinning widely.
"As if you've got a choice!" James smirked.
"Padfoot, show Harry his room, will you?" Lily asked, without looking up from the dinner she was cooking.
"Of course, Lils!" he replied, standing up. "Come on, Harry!"
"You don't get to call her Lils," James shouted over their backs.
"Sure Prongsie!" Sirius yelled back.
"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, bygone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers —" Harry heard a voice screeching, and found the source to be a painting of an ugly old woman, which had previously been hidden behind curtains.
"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!" Sirius roared, seizing the curtain which had previously covered the painting.
The old woman's face blanched.
"Yoooou!" she howled, her eyes popping at the sight of the man. "Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!"
"I said — shut — UP!" roared Sirius, and with a stupendous effort he and James, who had joined them, managed to force the curtains closed again.
"So, you've finally met my dear old mum, Harry," said Sirius. "We've been trying to get her down for a month but we think she put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of the canvas."
"But what's a portrait of your mother doing here?" Harry asked, bewildered.
"This was my parents' house," said Sirius. "But I'm the last Black left, so it's mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore for headquarters."
James grinned. "Come to think of what your mother would have said had she known you're putting this house for a movement against Voldemort."
"Clearly unimaginable," said Sirius, sarcastically.
Harry followed Sirius upstairs. As they reached the second landing, he said, "The door on the right is you. I've got something — er — important to do, I'll see you downstairs in a while. Cedric's staying here. He's the room on the left."
Before Harry could respond, he dashed down the stairs and vanished behind the wall. Sighing, Harry made his way to the room.
"Hi Harry," Cedric Diggory greeted him, poking his head from the door of his room. "I thought you must have come, when I heard the uncharacteristically pleasant sound of Mrs. Black." He smirked.
"Hey Cedric," Harry said, amused. He had never thought of Cedric as a humorous type. "What exactly this place is, besides being Sirius' family's home?" he asked, as the two went inside Harry's room.
"House of one of the Darkest Wizarding Families —" Cedric grinned, "— apart from being Headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix."
"So, what are your current leads?"
"Sorry mate, can't tell you about that. Ask your parents or your godfather instead," Cedric replied. "Come to think of it, I don't actually even know half of the stuff. Apparently, I'm yet not old enough to know all of that."
"Alright," Harry muttered in defeat. "So, what're you doing right now, being officially out of the school, apart from working for the Order?"
"Nothing at the moment. I'm supposed to be at St. Mungo's, remember?" Cedric replied. "Though I'll be joining Auror training a month or two later. Apparently, Dumbledore's covering for me, saying I'm under healer supervision at my house."
Harry nodded, not understanding whether he was serious or was just playing around. He suddenly spoke up, "Cedric . . . I gave the Triwizard winnings to Fred and George for their joke shop . . . mine, as well as yours . . . do you mind?"
To his surprise, Cedric's face broke out into a huge grin. "Couldn't have thought of a better thing to do with the money. I've always been fond of the Weasley twins. Can't imagine a Hogwarts without those two troublemakers."
Harry grinned in return. He was slowly getting over his anger towards Cedric for Cho, and was beginning to like the guy. (A/N: As a friend.)
"Let's go downstairs. You must be famished," Cedric said.
Harry followed him to the living room where the Marauders were having a good laugh over something.
The Weasleys, minus Charlie and Percy, arrived the next morning.
Lily gave directions to everyone the moment they arrived. "Arthur, Molly — take the bedroom on the right, first floor . . . Ron — put your stuff in Harry's room . . . Bill — you're going to stay with Cedric . . . Ginny — top floor, left . . . Fred and George — same on the right!"
"Go now and put your stuff in your rooms, settle down and come back for lunch," yelled Molly Weasley, though the second half of her sentence was drowned by the screeches of Mrs. Black.
"BLOODY HELL!" said Ron. "What exactly is that?" he asked Harry.
"Nothing . . . Just my god-grandmother," Harry replied, grinning. This was the best summer he had in years, one of the major reasons — it being Dursley free.
Ron was appreciating the cheerfulness of the room he and Harry were sharing (note the sarcasm) with Ron's owl Pigwidgeon zooming over their heads in circles, making excited noises, as Hedwig glared at it from the top of a dark wardrobe where she was perched upon.
With two loud cracks, Fred and George, Ron's elder twin brothers materialized out of thin air in the middle of the room. Pigwidgeon twittered more wildly than ever and zoomed off to join Hedwig on top of the wardrobe.
"Stop doing that!" Ron said grumpily.
"You two passed your Apparation tests, then?" asked Harry grinning at the twins.
"With distinction," said Fred, who was holding what looked like a piece of very long, flesh-colored string.
"It would have taken you about thirty seconds longer to walk down the stairs," said Ron, as Ginny entered the room.
"Time is Galleons, little brother," said Fred. "Extendable Ears," he added in response to Harry's raised eyebrows, holding up the string.
"Why is Bill here?" Harry asked. "I thought he was working in Egypt."
"He applied for a desk job so he could come home and work for the Order," said Fred. "He says he misses the tombs, but," he smirked, "there are compensations. . . ."
"What d'you mean?"
"Remember old Fleur Delacour?" said George. "She's got a job at Gringotts to eemprove 'er Eeenglish —"
"— and Bill's been giving her a lot of private lessons," sniggered Fred.
"Charlie's in the Order too," said George, "but he's still in Romania, Dumbledore wants as many foreign wizards brought in as possible, so Charlie's trying to make contacts on his days off."
"Couldn't Percy do that?" Harry asked. The last he had heard, the third Weasley brother was working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry of Magic.
At these words all the Weasleys exchanged darkly significant looks.
"Whatever you do, don't mention Percy in front of Mum and Dad," Ron told Harry in a tense voice.
"Why not?"
"Because every time Percy's name is mentioned, Dad breaks whatever he's holding and Mum starts crying," Ginny said.
"What's happened?" Harry said.
"Percy and Dad had a row yesterday," said Fred. "I've never seen Dad row with anyone like that. It's normally Mum who shouts. . . ."
"We were packing for coming here" said Ron. "Percy came home and told us he'd been promoted."
"You're kidding?" said Harry.
Though he knew perfectly well that Percy was highly ambitious, Harry's impression was that Percy had not made a great success of his first job at the Ministry of Magic. Percy had committed the fairly large oversight of failing to notice that his boss was being controlled by Lord Voldemort (not that the Ministry had believed that — they all thought that Mr. Crouch had gone mad).
"Yeah, we were all surprised," said George, "because Percy got into a load of trouble about Crouch, there was an inquiry and everything. They said Percy ought to have realized Crouch was off his rocker and informed a superior. But you know Percy, Crouch left him in charge, he wasn't going to complain. . . ."
"So how come they promoted him?"
"That's exactly what we wondered," said Ron. "He came home really pleased with himself — even more pleased than usual if you can imagine that — and told Dad he'd been offered a position in Fudge's own office. A really good one for someone only a year out of Hogwarts — Junior Assistant to the Minister. He expected Dad to be all impressed, I think."
"Only Dad wasn't," said Fred grimly.
"Why not?" said Harry.
"Well, apparently Fudge has been storming round the Ministry checking that nobody's having any contact with Dumbledore," said George.
"Dumbledore's name's mud with the Ministry these days, Dad told us," said Fred. "They all think he's just making trouble saying You-Know-Who's back."
"Dad says Fudge has made it clear that anyone who's in league with Dumbledore can clear out their desks," said George.
"Trouble is, Fudge suspects Dad, he knows he's friendly with Dumbledore, and he's always thought Dad's a bit of a weirdo because of his Muggle obsession —"
"But what's this got to do with Percy?" asked Harry, confused.
"I'm coming to that. Dad reckons Fudge only wants Percy in his office because he wants to use him to spy on the family — and Dumbledore."
Harry let out a low whistle.
"Bet Percy loved that."
Ron laughed in a hollow sort of way.
"He went completely berserk. He said — well, he said loads of terrible stuff. He said he's been having to struggle against Dad's lousy reputation ever since he joined the Ministry and that Dad's got no ambition and that's why we've always been — you know — not had a lot of money, I mean —"
"What?" said Harry in disbelief, as Ginny made a noise like an angry cat.
"I know," said Ron in a low voice. "And it got worse. He said Dad was an idiot to run around with Dumbledore, that Dumbledore was heading for big trouble and Dad was going to go down with him, and that he — Percy — knew where his loyalty lay and it was with the Ministry. And if Mum and Dad were going to become traitors to the Ministry he was going to make sure everyone knew he didn't belong to our family anymore. And he packed his bags at night and left. He's living here in London now."
Harry swore under his breath. He had always liked Percy least of Ron's brothers, but he had never imagined he would say such things to Mr. Weasley.
The door to their room opened. It was Lily. She said, "The dinner's ready kids. We're eating in the kitchen, Harry will lead you there. Others are going to join us shortly, so be quick."
"We'll be down in a minute, Mrs. Potter," Ginny spoke.
"Oi! I'm Lily . . . don't call me Mrs. Potter, or I'm going to hex you," she said giving her a fake frown before going back downstairs.
"Yeah, she's a Marauder's girl!" James winked at Ginny from the door.
"What do you mean?" asked Fred.
"The Marauders —" said George.
"—as in THE Marauders?" Fred asked.
"As in — Moony, Wormtail —"
"— Padfoot and Prongs?"
"Yeah, I'm Prongs," James said casually, as he sat beside Harry.
"Are you serious?" the Twins asked in unison.
"No, Sirius' Padfoot," James grinned.
"And Moony is our good old Professor Lupin," Ron said.
"You knew —?" George yelled at Ron.
"— and you didn't tell us!" Fred said.
"We worship the Marauders —" George said.
"— and son of a Marauder is our brother's best friend!" Fred cried.
"This is an outrage —" George yelled.
"— a scandal‼" Fred spoke.
"Whoa!" James said, grinning at the twins. "Calm down, guys." Ron, Harry and Ginny were laughing hysterically.
"You're our idols!" Fred and George said.
"Remember dad?" Harry spoke. "I told you something about Hogwarts pranksters . . . meet the two and only — most popular — the Weasley Twins!"
Fred and George gave James a low bow.
"Ah," said James. "I, along with Sirius and Remus, will give you personal pranking lessons if you come down right now for dinner, or Lily will kill me."
The twins stood up on their feet with an impossible speed. "It's a deal," they shouted and disapparated at once.
"Their way of saving time," Ginny said, shaking her head.
James exchanged a look with Harry, who mouthed 'Told you, dad'.
Dinner was fun for the residents of Grimmauld place that night. Harry and the Weasley kids were introduced to young Nymphadora Tonks (who preferred to be called Tonks), the real Mad-Eye Moody, Mundungus Fletcher, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and other members of the Order who were staying for dinner.
Tonks was a metamorphagus, and was entertaining Ginny and the rest by changing her looks, especially making funny noses. The best thing Harry liked about her so far was how she greeted him, saying "Wotcher, Harry!" Also, she was dead clumsy for an Auror.
Fred and George were laughing with Mundungus Fletcher as he was telling them jokes about his business.
Cedric was talking to James and Remus about Auror training.
Suddenly, Kingsley spoke up. "You're in Fifth year, aren't you?" He looked at Harry and Ron.
Both of them nodded.
"So, the Prefects will be made this year?"
Harry hadn't thought about it yet. What was he expecting? Will he be made a Prefect?
"I think that Hermione is definitely going to be a Prefect," said Ron.
"And Harry!" added Cedric.
"Oi! I'm going to disown you if you become a Prefect," James shouted from across the table, getting a smack on his head from Lily.
"Yeah," said Sirius. "No godson of mine should become a boring Prefect."
"So, you weren't a Prefect, dad?" Harry asked, genuinely interested.
"Nah! Too much of a troublemaker for being a Prefect," his father said. "The good boy Remus got the badge." He got a fierce glare from Remus, which he daftly ignored.
"Your mother was a Prefect though," said Remus.
"I'm sure Lily Jr. will definitely get the badge," James said.
"Who?" asked Kingsley.
"Hermione!" Harry said, choking on his pumpkin juice. He decided he did not want to become a Prefect. He already had much on his plate. But if he became one . . . he will see then, he decided. He had better things to concentrate on, like the treacle tart Lily had made for him.
Next few days proved tiring for Harry and the other teenagers. As the house hadn't been lived in for more than a decade, and the pathetic house-elf Kreacher was no good what-so-ever, the group, along with Lily, Molly, James and Sirius had been busy cleaning it to make inhabitable. The elders had regular Order meetings to cope with as well, at which none of them, except Cedric Diggory was allowed.
A week later, Harry got up to find a pleasant surprise, as he heard a far too well-known voice in his room.
"Hermione!" he shouted over to her, as he wore his glasses, waking Ron up in the process.
The bushy haired girl hugged him and Ron, the latter doing so a bit embarrassed.
"I just got here," said Hermione. "So, what have you been doing all this time?" she asked.
"Cleaning!" both Harry and Ron responded, offended.
"Cool!" she said.
"Cool?" cried Fred, as he and George apparated in the room, causing Hermione to fall back in shock. "Let's see if you can survive one day under the directions of mum and Lily!"
"Do they do that often?" asked Hermione, in reference to their apparation.
"Oh, don't ask," said Ron at the same time when Harry said, "All the time!"
The twins went back with another loud CRACK. Ron and Harry filled in Hermione about the little bits they knew due to James and Sirius' liberty — that the Order was trying to inconspicuously make people believe that Voldemort had returned, and the members were guarding some sort of weapon which Voldemort did not have the last time. Harry, Ron and the twins had spent a lot of time trying to get to know what that weapon was, but with no luck. Meanwhile, the Ministry was going all against Dumbledore and Harry — which was immediately judged as foolhardy and completely ignored by them.
At the breakfast, Harry was surprised when Lily asked him, "Harry, can your dad and I have a word with you after you've eaten."
He nodded, but he couldn't think of what they might be wanting to talk to him about.
Let's just say, saying he was surprised afterwardswould be the understatement of the century.