Harry Potter and the Order Phoenix

The one time proclamation of the not-mine-ness (otherwise known as a disclaimer): THIS IS NOT MINE! I OWN NOTHING!

Harry was going to start his fifth year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry on September 1st, which was still a month away, but only if he survived the Dursleys, his horrible magic-hating relatives, first. After the Tri-Wizard Tournament in Harry’s fourth year, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, had made Harry go back to 4 Privet Drive for “his own protection”. Dumbledore thought Harry would be safe there, but little did he know that this summer would be worse than ever before, and that Harry’s birthday would be a rebirth of himself, the likes of which had never been seen before…
<Please Uncle don’t, no more. Please, don’t. PLEASE! > The pain ripped through Harry’s body as his uncle used him. The whip marks on his back began to bleed again, and his uncle rubbed the salt in his hand, which came from the bucket kept on the floor, into his wounds, making sure to press hard and twist his fingers to make it really hurt. Harry howled in his mind, screaming at the horrible stinging, but was unable to speak through the ball gag his uncle had stuffed in his mouth before he had ripped into him. He twisted away, begging in his mind for release from the torture.
“You freak! Take your punishment like a good little whore!” His uncle raped him with short, hard thrusts, gripping his hips roughly with bloody and salt encrusted hands as Harry hung from the manacles in the ceiling that cut into his wrists. Harry knew he was bleeding <down there>, and he prayed for the pain to stop, that he’d pass out or just die. His arms ached, and dried blood covered his wrists and streaked down his arms where the sharp metal of the thick cuffs had cut into him. His uncle finished using him with a final thrust, tearing Harry again. He pulled out of the boy and laughed as Harry whimpered around the gag.
“Some freak you are. Can’t stop me from fucking you. Look at you! You can’t even use your little magic tricks because you aren’t old enough. Hah! And it took a big bad Dark Freak to kill your freak parents? What a joke.” Harry growled as his uncle laughed. How dare that son of a bitch insult his parents? James and Lily Potter had been the best people in the world, and now… the anger rose within Harry as everything, from the first memory he had of the abuse at the Dursleys hands till this last, swept across his mind. <No more!>
The chains snapped as Harry’s anger raged out of control, and he ripped the ball gag out of his mouth with his now free hands, throwing it on the floor.
“You fucking bastard. How dare you insult them? You’re the freak, not me. All I ever wanted was to be accepted, and you fucking walk all over me as if I were a fucking <nothing>!” The house shook as Harry’s power washed through it. Vernon was showered with glass as the single bulb in Dudley’s second room, now Harry’s torture-room and prison, exploded. The glass from the bricked-up window blew towards Vernon, cutting him across the arms and back. Harry stood untouched, his power swirling around him like a beast released from its cage.
His eyes glowed, his shaggy black hair stood on end, and Vernon was afraid. He’d pushed the boy too far. Petunia, Harry’s horse-faced aunt, screamed below as the rest of the glass in the house shattered.
“Vernon! What the hell is going on!” She yelled up the stairs when she recovered.
“The Boy…” Vernon, his voice gone, could only choke out a whisper.
“ ‘The Boy’? Not ‘The Little Whore’, or ‘The Freak’, or ‘the Dursley family fuck-toy’?” Harry threw out his hand and Vernon found himself pinned against the wall, a huge invisible hand crushing the breath out of him. His pants, still around his fat thighs, trapped his legs as he tried to thrash his way free.
Vernon struggled, but the hand only pressed him harder. His face turned purple, and his eyes glazed over as he failed to take in any breath.
The hand released him, and he slumped to the floor, gasping.
“They are coming now. Tell them the truth.” Vernon nodded as he pulled himself up.
“Good. <Sit>.” Vernon collapsed, unable to move. Voices were heard from below, and feet up the creaking stairs. Harry smiled as a flash of purple light ripped the air behind him and he turned to enter it.
“Harry! Harry, where…” Sirius appeared in the door as Harry, still naked and bloody, disappeared in a flash of light. He blinked, then knew his mind wasn’t playing a trick on him as he caught the stench of blood, stale sex and vomit in the room.
“What the fuck happened here?” Remus stood next to Sirius, his nose and mouth covered. Sometimes having sensitive sight and smell weren’t so good. He was seeing things in the shadows he really didn’t want to see, and which he hoped Sirius couldn’t.
“Where’s Harry?” Sirius stalked over to where Vernon sat, immobile, watching the two men with wide eyes. Sirius gripped Vernon’s hair and tried to pull him up, but failed to do so.
“Remus? A little help would be nice.” Sirius spat out through gritted teeth. Remus shook out of his daze at Sirius’s voice.
He approached Vernon, and whispered under his breath. The binding on Vernon dissipated, and Sirius slammed Vernon against the wall.
“What the hell did you do to him? Where is he?” Vernon muttered something under his breath as the man, who he’d figured was the freak’s godfather, slammed his head against the wall.
“I didn’t quite hear that. Speak a little louder, pig!” Vernon whimpered.
“He’s gone! He left on his own!”
“That only answers my last question. What did you do to him?”
“P… p… punished him….” Sirius threw a wild glance around the room, a blood-soaked and cum-stained excuse for a child’s room. No, a torture room. A pair of manacles hung from the ceiling in the corner shadow, a pool of blood congealing under them. Dear Merlin in Summerland…
“ ‘Punished’ him? No, you fucking tortured him. His blood is still on your dick you fucking sick excuse for a Muggle! Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.” Sirius grabbed a hold of Vernon’s head and raised it from the wall where it lay, ready to smash it to a bloody pulp.
“Sirius.” Remus whispered his name, breaking his concentration.
“Not now Rem. I’m a little busy dealing with this… thing.”
“Look.” Remus pointed to a piece of parchment that lay on the ground where Harry had disappeared. It had Sirius’s name on it. Sirius dropped Vernon like a hot coal and snatched up the paper.He opened it, then gaped at what it said.
“Remus? I… He’s…” Remus read the note, and finished Sirius’s thought for him.
“Harry’s gone. But he’ll be back. He’s never broken his promises. Rules yes, but not promises.”
“What do we do now?” Remus turned and smiled at Vernon.
“We deal with him, and the rest of his brood.” Sirius smiled, and grabbed Vernon by the nape of his neck.
“This’ll be fun.”

Harry awoke surrounded by warmth. The pain that he'd grown almost accustomed to over the past month, the pain from the cracked ribs and broken bones, from the thrusts of his uncle as well as his cousin before he’d gone off to summer camp, from the metal-bit whips and barb-wire-laced baton, were all gone.
He sat up slowly, cautiously. His glasses, which he’d been without since his first day back with the Dursleys, were no where to be found, but he could see perfectly, unless of course he was hallucinating, which seemed possible given his surroundings and what he remembered.
He was in a forest, sitting near a stream. Sunlight filtered through the treetops, and dust mites danced in the shafts of peaceful light.
“Welcome Chosen One.” Harry’s head whipped around. A man was standing next to a huge oak tree. His black hair was held back in a mass of warrior braids, and his blue eyes bore into Harry. His red and golden robes swirled about him as though blowing in the wind, but there was none. Harry scrambled up, near to panicking, but stopped as a woman’s voice sounded behind him.
“You’ve gone and scared him Godric. Didn’t you even give the young man some clothes?”
“I was about to Helga. You didn’t give me a chance.” Harry watched as the young woman with brown eyes and dark brown hair crossed the stream and stood next to the one she’d called Lio. She too was dressed in swirling robes, but hers were yellow and black. Harry, self-conscious of his naked state, crossed his hands over himself. For some reason the decision to flee had left his mind.
“Oh, you old slowpoke.” The woman waved her hand and a pair of loose white cotton pants covered Harry’s legs. A pair of soft-looking white slippers appeared next to him, as did a button-up white cotton shirt.
“I’m younger than you are!”
“Only by a week!”
“Helga, what’s the… oh. Damn.” Harry jerked his head to the side as a man stepped from the shadows. The man looked... like Salazar Slytherin! He had the black hair and dark eyes, golden brown skin, a thick beard, and was dressed in silver and green robes.
“Salazar, Rowena, we had to bring him a little earlier than expected.” Another young woman, with blond highlights in her brown hair and light green eyes, in blue and golden robes stood on the other side of Lio. Who they were popped into his head, and Harry hoped he was wrong in what he was about to ask.
“Am I dead?”
“No, you are not dead Harry. This is our home, the Plains of the Phoenix Lord. I am, as you probably guessed, am Salazar Slytherin.” Sal said.
“Your home?”
“Yes. We, as well as several others, have lived here for many years, waiting for you. Don’t worry”, Godric said when he saw that Harry was about to interrupt, “all of your questions will be answered soon.” Harry nodded, information flowing through his brain, little things he’d heard over the years clicking into place.
"It’s time to get moving.” Salazar nodded at Helga’s suggestion, and then they started away after Harry slipped on the shirt and slippers. They were walking through the trees when Harry asked a question that had sprung into his mind a second before.
“Uhm, I hate to bring this up, but why aren’t I in pain? I mean, after what Vernon and the rest did to me, I shouldn’t even be standing.” Godric, the closest one to Harry, turned and answered.
“We helped to heal you. The scars are still there, but the physical wounds are healed.” Harry looked down and sure enough the wounds left by the manacles were healed to a fleshy pink-white.
“And the other wounds?” Godric shook his head, understanding that Harry was asking about the emotional torture he had suffered at his <relative’s> hands.
“Those only you can heal, but we’ll help you when we can.”
“Am I still on Earth?” This time Helga answered.
“You are in another dimension, parallel to your own. You’ll have all the information you need and more soon enough.” They passed a final stand of trees and Harry found himself gawking at a castle at least ten times larger than Hogwarts. It was spread over an entire mountaintop. A lake was on one side, and a Quidditch field and stands covered the ground in front of it. The forest they’d come out of wrapped around to the lakes’ far shore and was lost in the mist that surrounded the castle on all sides.
“Holy… This is where you live?”
“Yes, and where you will live for now.” They walked through the entryway and towards a pair of great wooden doors.
“How long will I be here?”
“About two years.”
“TWO YEARS!” Harry stopped. “Will two years pass on Earth as well?”
“No, only a few months will pass there.” Harry nodded as they entered the hall behind the doors, just accepting what he was told.
“So, what’s…” Harry stopped as a young man, no older than his early thirties, stood up from the huge table running the length of the room.
“Ah, so you’re finally here. Welcome Phoenix Lord.”
“I know you… but it couldn’t possibly be…” As Harry drew closer, the blue twinkle in the man’s eyes became more evident, and Harry smiled.
“Professor Dumbledore?!” The man shook his head.
“Not quite. Want to try again?” A picture of a man popped up in his mind, from one of the History of Magic lessons he’d actually stayed awake in. Granted, the man was much older in his pictures, but Harry could see, if he was a young man again…
“Merlin?”
“Give the boy a cigar! Welcome to the Balance.”

Back at the Burrow, Remus was forcing yet another cup of tea with a Calming Draught in it on Sirius. Three days had passed since they’d gotten back from Harry’s house. Sirius sat thinking over why he’d gone, what he’d found, and what he’d lost.
It had all started when the wards had collapsed. Dumbledore had sent Remus and Sirius to find out why. Fudge hadn’t sent anyone until later, saying that it was nothing, that after all, it wasn’t like Voldemort was back. Sirius shook his head. That damned Fudge! If he’d just get his head out of his arse… but no, there had been no Death Eaters, no signs of Dark Marks or signatures of dark magic. They weren’t the reason for the wards’ collapse. Something or someone else had triggered it, and Sirius had no idea what until he’d gone inside.
Sirius remembered calmly, thanks to the Calming Draught that practically saturated him now, what had happened after he’d read Harry’s note. He’d dragged Vernon and his family into the living room, and Remus had copied their memories using a Replication Charm. Sirius had learned that they’d burnt everything, including Harry’s Firebolt, and very nearly snapped Vernon’s neck. The Aurors had finally shown up, and taken the entire Dursley family to a holding cell underneath the Ministry of Magic’s headquarters.
Remus and Sirius, in Snuffles form because of the Aurors, had then searched the house. They’d found poor Hedwig’ cage locked up in the shed, but no Hedwig, then had gone to the Burrow to tell the Weasleys and Hermione, who Flooed there as soon as she heard Harry was missing, what they knew.
“Fudge doesn’t even care! I mean, Harry is <gone>! The wards collapsed, and he doesn’t know why! Why the bloody hell doesn’t he <do> something?” Ron was ranting again, and Hermione wasn’t bothering to calm him down, as she agreed with him.
“Mr. Weasley, I don’t think it was Voldemort who took Harry.” Ron’s father looked at Hermione quizzically as she addressed Arthur.
“Why do you say that Hermione?”
“I’ve been thinking. Do you remember that flash of light Sirius told us about? I think it was a portal, like a Portkey makes. Voldemort wouldn’t have bothered to do that, would he? He’d have had to get inside because of the wards, and there wasn’t any dark magic found anywhere near the house, or even a signature like a Death Eater would leave. And no one was there so…” Arthur nodded.
“By god girl, I think you’re on to something.” The flame haired man paced, then snapped his fingers. “What if Harry caused the wards to collapse? What if he was the one that formed that portal? I mean, look what Vernon did to him. If he snapped, then… Harry is a very strong wizard after all. I think he just might have been able to do something like that.”
“But collapsing wards that even Voldemort can’t break through? Is he <that> strong?” Ginny spoke up. She’d been sitting next to Hermione, comforting her before her tears turned to anger at Fudge’s unwillingness to deal with the situation.
“Yes, he is.” Sirius said quietly. A flickering in the corner of his eye had him gasping.
"Harry?"
"Hello everyone. This is just a Sending. I'll be home soon. Don't worry."

Three months after Harry’s disappearance, on October 31st, at nine p.m. exactly, everyone at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was gathered in the Great Hall. When Harry hadn’t come back to school almost two months ago, Draco had surprisingly not said anything snooty. His father had tried to make a Death Eater over the summer but he’d refused because of seeing what had happened to Cedric. He’d been disowned, and he’d moved out of Slytherin house and into his own room after someone had left him a little ‘warning’ in the form of a rather painful curse and an exploding packet of Bubotuber Pus. He’d apologized to Ron and Hermione profusely and even offered to let any of the Gryffindors punch or hex him, though none, rather surprisingly, did.
Sirius, in Snuffles form, had come to stay with Remus, who was again the D.A.D.A. teacher as everyone, thinking the position was cursed, didn’t want the job. Snape had been himself, and Voldemort had been quiet, which scared everyone a hell of a lot more than anything else did. Everyone except Fudge acknowledged that he was back, so they knew that his not making any noise, not even killing any Muggles, meant he was planning something rather big.
The Masquerade ball currently was quiet, as there was a lull in dancing. The Ball had been held to help bolster flagging morale. Aurors were stationed around the school now, and seemed rather twitchy.
A sudden shaking of the schools’ foundations had everyone looking at Dumbledore, dressed as a phoenix, as he stood and nodded.
“It seems two of our own are back. If they’d step out of the shadows and join the celebration?” Everyone turned to the patch of shadows in the corner Dumbledore was facing, and looked on as two figures melted from the shadows.
“Who are you?” Ron, dressed as a Chuddley Cannons player, was nearest to the taller of the two figures who both had hoods covering their faces. It turned to the other and a slight shaking of the fabric apparently was a nod because the first reached up and took off its hood. Everyone gasped as they saw someone who they thought long dead and buried.
“Ced? I…” Cho, dressed as a fairy princess, had been dancing with a vampire Draco near that corner. She fainted in Draco’s arms before Cedric smiled at the other hooded figure, which nodded, and picked her up. He left the Hall with Cho cradled in his arms, and when he was gone, everyone turned back to face the other figure.
“If he’s Ced, then you…” Ron had turned to the other figure, started forward a step, then stopped. The figure lifted its hood back, and Harry, as Ron had last seen him but for a bit more of a tan and some new clothes, stood before him.
“I said I’d be back Ron. It’s good to see you four getting along.” He nodded towards Draco, who’d moved next to Ron, an angel Hermione and a feline Ginny. Sirius, who’d been sitting next to Remus’ chair in Snuffles form, wormed his way through the crowd. He stopped next to them, apprehensive. Harry smelled different.
“Hey Snuffles.” Harry knelt down and the Animagus ran and almost knocked Harry over in his eagerness to see him. He licked Harry’s face and, it seemed to those who were watching that if Snuffles were human, he would have hugged the boy in front of them. Snuffles barked happily as Harry scratched him behind the ears, a spot Harry knew he liked, and Harry smiled. Despite the slight difference in smell, this was his Harry.
“Harry.” Harry looked up and saw Dumbledore approaching him.
“Sir.” Harry gave one final scratch to Sirius’s head and stood as the headmaster approached him. “Sorry about the shaking earlier.”
“That was you?” asked Hermione, her mind racing with questions.
“Yeah. Didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“It isn’t a problem at all. The party is still going on. Go, have fun. I’ll talk to you in my office later. You know the password.” Harry nodded and Dumbledore turned to address the crowd.
“I must ask that you do not question either Harry or Cedric for the time being. Also, all classes are cancelled until further notice. Thank you!” He made his way back up to the table and resumed his seat.
“Mister Potter! Dobby is so glad to sees you!” The house elf, in an orange T-shirt, purple shorts, and mismatched socks, popped up and proceeded to jump into Harry’s arms and strangle him.
As he was putting Dobby down a moment later, his sleeve was drawn up, and the scar from the manacle from so very long ago stood out clearly.
“Harry…” Ron whispered, the emotion evident in his cracked voice. Everyone around gasped as Harry quickly pulled the sleeve of the robe back down, and Sirius growled.
“It’s nothing.” Ron nodded, accepting what he said though anger was still glinting in his eyes.
“So Harry, what happened? Where’ve you been?” asked Seamus Finnigan. Harry just shook his head at the Irishman. They had gone to the snack table to grab some drinks after everyone had welcomed him back.
“I’m sorry Seamus. I can’t answer any questions just yet.”
“Can’t or won’t?” asked Fred and George in unison from behind Seamus. They were dressed in matching clown outfits. Several people had almost been turned into canaries as they’d hidden Canary Cremes in the rolls.
“Both. I have to go to see Dumbledore. I’ll be back to the dorm later, okay?” The last comment was directed at the Gryffindors, who had all clung to him since he’d arrived. Harry smiled at Ginny, who blushed, nodded to Draco, Ron and Hermione, then walked off. ‘Snuffles’ slunk off after him a moment later, though only a few people noticed.

Fifteen minutes later...
“Well Harry, why don’t you go get reacquainted with your friends? If you need to talk to anyone, we’re here. Also, Hedwig arrived shortly after you and is in the Owlery. You can go get your new school things and wand later in the week, alright?”
“That won’t be necessary Headmaster. I know where they are.” Harry just smiled at the Headmaster’s shocked expression. “Everyone.” Harry nodded and left.
<Well, that didn’t go sooo bad, did it? > Kali asked as he started towards the Gryffindor tower.
<It could have been worse. >
“Phoenix Fire.” Harry told the Fat Lady a few moments later. She smiled and swung aside so he could get into the commons.
<Well, that’s fitting… > Harry could hear no more of Quetzalcoatl’s comment as a stampede of people rushed for him as soon as the door had closed and surrounded him.
“Harry’s here guys! Yes, we can start the party now Lavender.” After he moved away from the girl, Ron hustled Harry to a table against the wall that was lined with food and Butterbeer. Fred and George had raided the kitchens, despite the huge feast before the Ball.
“Why were you waiting for me?” Ron looked at him like he had two heads as he passed Harry a Butterbeer and a bowl of cheese curls.
“We want to know where you’ve been of course, and we wanted to celebrate now that you’re back!” Ron exclaimed, a guilty expression crossing his face as he sat down.
“You’ll know soon enough where I was. But what else do you want to know Ron?” The redhead fidgeted, then asked.
“The scar on your wrist…”
“On both my wrists, actually.” Harry pulled both of his sleeves up and showed the room the scars. They’d gone silent. “They’re from Vernon.”
“Your uncle?” Harry scowled at Seamus’ innocent question.
“I don’t consider him family anymore.” Seamus blushed and nodded. He apologized quietly.
“They can’t be removed with magic?” Hermione took out her wand, preparing to try and remove the scars.
“Hermione, I wouldn’t…”
“Oh nonsense, Harry, it’s really a simple spell… <Removucus>.” Harry grimaced as Hermione flew backwards. He darted up out of his seat and caught her.
“I told you not to do that.” Harry set Hermione on her feet, and handed her the wand that had fallen from her hand when she’d been blown backwards. “Are you alright?”
“I… I… It’s just that that spell should have worked. That shouldn’t have happened and…” Hermione was flustered, and Harry had to bite back a smile.
“No such luck.”
“Why not?” Harry shrugged.
“I guess they aren’t meant to come off.” Harry went to sit back down and she went with him. The party raged for a few hours before Harry, who’d been left alone after they realized he wouldn’t answer any questions, went up to bed. It was a quarter after midnight. Ron and the others just nodded, then continued their celebration. It was good to be home.

At about two thirty, Ron made his way up to the fifth-year boys’ dorm. Several people were passed out in the common room due to all the Butterbeer, and Ron didn’t have the heart to wake them up. He entered the dorm quietly, and was surprised to find Harry awake. He was staring out the window. (A.N. Does anyone know what they can see from their Dorm windows? Like the lake, or a part of the grounds? Please tell me…)
“Harry? Are you alright?” Harry was sitting in the shadows off to the side, and the moonlight was gathered at his feet.
“Yeah. I was just thinking that it’s good to be home.”
“It’s good to have you here mate.” Harry pulled on a shirt that was lying on the bed. Ron didn’t see the other scars on Harry’s back, or the tattoos.
“Harry…”
“Yes Ron?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You couldn’t have known. Let’s catch up.” Harry and Ron talked until four o’clock, at which point everyone else came up, and went to sleep. He had a long day ahead of him.

Harry was sitting in the Grand Hall eating breakfast the next morning. He’d slipped out of bed twenty minutes earlier after an hour of sleep, and taken his time getting downstairs. The professors were sitting at their tables, watching him as he ate. A fork was in one hand, in the other was a thick black book. He wouldn’t let anyone see what it was. Hermione, Draco, Ron and Ginny were sitting, also eating. Cedric was sitting with Cho, just holding her hand and stroking her hair. They’d had a long talk last night, and didn’t need words now. They were all sitting at the front Gryffindor table.
The book vanished from Harry’s hand suddenly, and he stood, stretched, then walked up to the head table. Dumbledore nodded to the teachers, and they moved as one. They filed off the dais and stood in front of Harry as the others came up and stood behind him. Dumbledore spoke first.
“So you are an Animagus?” (Everyone not mentioned besides the teachers is in the common rooms for breakfast, or out in the school. Anywhere but the Great Hall.)
“Yes.” Harry spoke quietly. He’d already spoken with the others, and Ced had told Cho, so they weren’t surprised at the question. After all, they <were> going to be his inner circle.
“What are you?” Harry looked down at the floor.
“What do you want me to be?”
“You…” Dumbledore, as well as all the other teachers, were at a loss of words. (A.N. Just imagine- a dumbfounded Dumbledore! Muhahahah!)
“I can take any form.” Harry knew what was coming next.
“<Any> form? What’s stopping you from being even more bloody famous than you already are Potter?” Snape spat, retrieving his tongue. Ron bristled at Snape, but Draco calmed him with a hand on the shoulder.
“I don’t want to be famous, Professor. I just want to be left alone, and that will never happen.” Hermione looked at Harry and knew he was right. Even when Voldemort was dead, he’d still be the Boy-Who-Lived, and he’d be expected to fight the next Dark Lord. Harry would never get a break…
“Severus.” Dumbledore warned. “Harry, can you show us your largest form?”
“I don’t think you want me to do that in here.”
“Why not?” asked McGonagall.
“I don’t think you want a hundred-foot tall Emperor Griffin mixed with a King Basilisk, Goden’s Eagle and Prussian Badger to break the Great Hall apart, sir.”
“Those are…” Flitwick started to splutter.
“The Founders forms. I know.”
“But no one… combined?… that would mean… don’t you know no one has had a magical Animagus form since them?” McGonagall choked.
“I know.” The Hall was silent for a few seconds, then Dumbledore spoke.
“Well, let’s get outside then shall we?” Harry nodded, turned, then walked out of the Great Hall and out of the castle. People stopped as the troop passed, then turned and followed them, though they didn’t know what was happening. Harry stopped and turned when he was about fifty feet from the school. Everyone was arrayed in a semi-circle out in front of him.
“No one freak, okay?” Everyone nodded, and Harry sighed. A moment later, everyone except for the teachers, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Cedric and Draco screamed when Harry transformed into a monstrous… <thing>. He rose up and up, then looked down on them with one gold and red eye and one yellow eye from a mix of eagle and lion head. His blood-red wings reached two hundred feet on either side of him and they were stretched fully from his pale gold body. His tail had a black puff of fur on the end and his feet ended in somehow elegant paws that looked like they belonged on some kind of digging animal. Harry had told them, but hadn’t shown them…
“Crap.” Draco fell on his ass, then started to snicker. Voldemort would wet his pants when he heard about <this>.


Two days later…
Harry came back to the table, pale. Dumbledore had just announced that classes were cancelled.
"What's wrong Harry?" asked Cho.
“Their trial is today.” Everyone stopped talking and eating as Harry said this. They all knew who “their” meant.
“And he wants you to go?” Hermione whispered.
“I have to be a witness.”
“When?” Ron asked quietly.
“Two hours.”
“We’re coming with you.” Cedric said. It wasn’t a question. Harry nodded, shaking himself. He looked up and smiled at his friends.
“Sorry to ruin breakfast guys. I’m gonna go to the Library for a little while, okay?” They nodded, and Harry left.
“Damn! Does Dumbledore <want> Vernon hexed? He knows what we’ll do when we see him.” Draco hissed quietly. The rest of the Gryffindors nodded silently, grimly, knowing that this Slytherin was a friend of Harry’s and someone they could trust. After all, he was sitting with them.
“Come on, we’d better get ready.” Ron stilled as a shadow fell over him. He looked up to see Dumbledore standing next to him.
“Good morning Headmaster.” Said Cedric from the other side of the table.
“Good morning Cedric, everyone. I overheard you talking, and I understand your confusion over my wanting you to all attend the trial with Harry. He will need emotional support. As you two are his best friends, I want you there. Anyone else who wants to come may, though I’d like the entourage to be as small as possible.” Everyone nodded when Dumbledore finished.
“This is going to be a long day…” Hermione muttered as the Headmaster walked away and the table started discussing who would and wouldn’t go.

<This is going to be a <very> long day.> Harry thought as he was driven to the Ministry of Magic. They couldn’t Apparate with the teenagers, and they didn’t know that he could Apparate, so they were forced to drive. As they pulled up to the Courthouse where the trial was to be held, Harry grimaced. Flocks of reporters, all with Quick-Quills and such, were crowding around the doors. They saw the Ministry emblem on the door of the cars, and raced down. A Bubble charm pushed the crowd away from the car, and everyone raced out of the cars and up the steps and through the doors.
Behind him Harry could hear the angry roars of the reporters, and he smiled, laughing quietly.
“What’s so funny Harry?” Hermione asked. She was in the back of the group with him. Ron was next to them, as were Cedric, Draco, and Ginny. Everyone else had stayed behind.
“Just thinking that Skeeter isn’t in that bunch. I wonder where she is now… ’Mione? You’re blushing. You did release Skeeter, didn’t you?” Hermione shook her head. “Then where is she?” Hermione ducked her head, then whispered something that sounded suspiciously like “Zoo”.
“Well, well, well. It seems Ron and I have rubbed off on you.” Hermione smiled. Ron grinned wolfishly at his girlfriend.
“Yep. We’ll have Hermione as a New Marauder in no time.”
“ ‘New Marauder’?” Ron frowned at Harry’s question, then nodded.
“I didn’t tell you? Damn. Well, after all, your dad and the others were the Marauders, and Fred and George thought up this idea after some idiot gave them 1000 Galleons that they’d be the new generation of Marauders in honor of those who passed before. You are obviously in, as are Draco and Ginny. Ced can be too if he wants.” Cedric smiled and nodded.
“I’d be honored.”
“Do they know who the original Marauders were?” Harry asked Ron as they were ushered through the doors and down a hall. They were safe as Fred and George were back at the castle, and had no chance of overhearing them.
“Nope. They just that they were honoring their memory as ‘the greatest pranksters from here to heaven that Hogwarts as ever seen’, to quote Fred. Or was it George? Any idea who gave them the money?” Harry shook his head and smiled, but his face straightened as he stepped through the court doors at the end of the hall.
It was like the courtroom from Dumbledore’s Penseive last year with the chairs for the defendants in the middle on a raised platform and the jury row along the wall.
A red and purple Vernon was chained in one of the chairs, as were a pale Petunia and beet-faced Dudley. Before Harry had walked in, Vernon had been yelling his head off, but when he saw him, he went ballistic. He’d been put under a Silencing Charm, so Harry couldn’t hear his rants, but he knew well enough what was being said. Vernon pulled at the chains, and when one snapped, he lunged forward and clawed at the air, trying to reach Harry.
Several Aurors ran forward and hauled Vernon back into his chair, this time placing Unbreakable Charms on the chains. Petunia and Dudley also had Unbreakable Charms cast on their chains. Petunia was watching Harry calmly while Dudley was crying, not giving a damn that he looked all the guiltier for it. William Grant, the man Harry had been introduced to earlier in the week by Floo Fire as the Ministry prosecutor, walked towards them.
“Hello Mr. Grant.” Harry shook hands with the tall, thin man.
“Hello Mr. Potter. If you’ll all sit here please, with the exception of Harry, we can begin.” Harry went to the front of the court and took the first seat next to Grant. A young man, an Auror by the badge on his robes, entered from a side door as they sat, and stepped in front of the judge’s stand.
“Will all save the defendants please rise for the Honorable Judge Jonathan Locanter.” Everyone stood again as a black robed man entered. He tapped his wand on the stand, and the court quieted and sat.
“The trial of Harry Potter vs. Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley, and Dudley Dursley will now commence. May I remind you that any kind of recording or duplicating device, magical or otherwise are strictly prohibited unless previously authorized by the court. Auror Connor, please administer three drops of Veritaserum to the first defendant, Vernon Dursley.”
Connor took a clear vial from his belt, put three drops of the liquid on the tip of his wand. He shot it into Vernon’s mouth when he opened it to rage again, despite the Silencing Charm. Vernon slumped in his chair and his eyes became dull. Locanter nodded, and Grant started after he removed the silencing charm.
“What is your full name?”
“Vernon Rupert Dursley.” Said Vernon in a flat voice.
“Why are you here?”
“I beat and raped my nephew.” Grant, who’d been told this, still paled, then continued.
“Who is your nephew Mr. Dursley?”
“Harry Jamescott Potter.”
“No more questions.” Connor looked at the judge as Grant stopped, and proceeded to administer the truth serum to Petunia, then Dudley, with the same results. Grant looked at Harry, who stood and sat in the chair next to the judges’ stand. Holding straps wrapped around his chest, arms and legs, and he had a sickening flash of memory of his time with the Dursleys, but he shook it from his head as Connor approached.
He opened his mouth and the Auror put in the three drops of truth serum. Grant stepped forward.
“What is your name?”
“Harry Jamescott Potter.” Harry said in a dull voice. He knew what to expect; the serum gave him no control, and he knew that if anyone asked him a question, he’d have to answer truthfully. Otherwise, he’d face the possibility of puking up his internal organs, literally.
“Why are you here?”
“I was beaten, starved, tortured, and raped by the Dursleys of 4 Privet Drive, Little Whining, Surrey from June 30th to July31st of this year.”
“What is your relationship to the Dursleys?”
“Petunia is my mother’s sister, Vernon is Petunia’s husband, and Dudley is their son.”
“I only have one more question. Are you sane?”
“Yes sir.”
“Thank you Mr. Potter. No more questions. Finite Incantatem.” The truth drug evaporated with these words, and the straps disappeared. Harry went to go sit back down, drained. Everyone flashed him smiles and words of encouragement and sympathy as he sat down as the jury conspired.
A moment later, one of the jurors, an older woman with long flowing gowns of red and black, stood, a piece of parchment clutched in her hands.
“Your honor, on the charges of rape, false imprisonment, drugging, torture and starvation, we find the first defendant Vernon Rupert Dursley guilty. He is sentenced to life in Azkaban with no chance of parole. On the charges of starvation, false imprisonment, drugging and torture, we find the second defendant, Petunia Grace Evans Dursley guilty. She shall be sentenced to life in Azkaban with no chance of parole. On the charges of rape, false imprisonment, drugging, torture, and starvation, we find the third defendant, Dudley Vernon Dursley, guilty. He shall be sentenced to three years in Rakavich, then sent to Azkaban for life with no chance of parole. All property of the Dursleys is forfeit, and reverts to the control of Mr. Potter. He may do with it as he wishes, and the defendants are to have no contact with him unless he expressly grants it. Until he comes of age, seeks emancipation, is emancipated, or is adopted, he shall be a ward of Professor Albus Dumbledore and the staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” The witch glared at the Dursleys and sat.
“Thank you Mrs. Havisham.”
* * *

An hour later, Harry was back at home, his true home. They’d just stepped out of the car in front of the doors of Hogwarts, and Harry was stretching when the tingling in his forehead flared. It was the last warning he had, and indeed, the only one he needed.
“Heads up.” Harry said as the green light of an Avada Kedavra rippled towards them over the grounds from the direction of the forest, slowed, and faded.
“What in the nine hells?” Remus spat.
“Come on Tommy. Let’s finish this.” Everyone looked at where Harry had been standing a moment before and gasped. Harry… no, this was not the Harry they knew. This man was tall and muscled, and he had a grace to him, an air, which told them that he’d seen everything and survived it all. He looked to be about eighteen years old, with long black hair that fell down his back in a braid, and wise green eyes. His scar, once hidden by his bangs, was now in clear view. He was taller as well; at least 6’ 3”.
“What the fuck?” spat Draco.
“No Dragon, not hell. Nor heaven for that matter.” Harry smiled, then flicked his hand outward. Energy seemed to dance in front of him as the ground in front of him writhed. Everyone gaped as Harry’s shadow writhed like a living thing, then lengthened and split from his true shadow. It slipped away into the forest, and a cry was all they heard. Several lumps of writhing flesh came slithering across the ground. Yells of the shattering spell and ‘Finite Incantatem’ were heard, but seemed to have no effect. The shadow-wrapped masses turned out to be Wormtail, Lucius Malfoy, Avery MacNair, and Voldemort himself.
“Hello Tom. Fudge.” A startled Minister of Magic came to be standing in front of them, bowler hat and Daily Prophet in hand.
“How? Where? Who the hell are you?” Harry smirked. “Why am I here? Explain this instant!”
“Be quiet.” The whisper stole Fudge’s voice from him. “Look.” Fudge, helpless to do anything else, looked at the four people at his feet. “Those four are Peter Pettigrew, whom Sirius Black was accused of killing, Lucius Malfoy, Avery MacNair, and Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort as he is more widely known. As Pettigrew is alive, Sirius is proved innocent. I want Peter taken in and given Veritaserum, then given the Kiss. You can clearly see the Dark Marks on their arms; Veritaserum will prove the rest. If you chose not to act on this properly, I will be most... displeased. Am I understood?”
Fudge nodded numbly, his face pale, then summoned Aurors with a flick of his wand. He looked at Harry, who gave him back his voice with a glare that said that if he tried to say something out of line he’d lose more than his voice.
“Jameson, Paul, take these men into custody. Use extreme care. Find Sirius Black and bring him to me…”
“That won’t be necessary Minister. Sirius.” A startled Sirius Black, no longer as Snuffles the dog, found himself standing at his godson’s side.
“Well, that makes things easier.” Said the Minister after he’d regained his breath. Dementors were summoned, the men were taken away, and all was well… until Hermione talked to Harry.
“You never said you could do that!”
“You never asked. I have to go, I’ll be back tomorrow…” And no one ever heard from Harry again. At least, not that anyone said. But Sirius, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Draco, and Remus disappeared a day after them, as did all their belongings…

The End

I have to thank Ruskbyte, Echo, and Saerry Snape of Fanfiction.net sooo much that all those ‘o’s on so would take up the entire page. Their works are inspiring. There are a hell of a lot of people I want to thank, and those three are just the ones I know off the top of my head. Anyone else who’s written, writing, or will write a HP fic, GO YOU! Here’s a cookie! Have some milk. Thank you so much. And reviewers- review and you get more, if not, then this fic is going away. Have fun and be safe. K.
P.S.- This may or may not have a sequel- you decide!
P.P.S.- Does anyone know how to get italics or bold to carry over from Microsoft Word to the Internet? Please tell me. Thanx.