Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

It was early evening in Privet Drive and the boy called Harry Potter was staring out the window in his small bedroom when he heard the loud, screeching sound of his Aunt Petunia complaining about the loud, screeching sound his owl, Hedwig, was making.

"It's abnormal! It's a menace! Get that filthy bird back in its cage, this instant!"

Harry frowned, "Sorry, Aunt Petunia, but she needs to get some exercise. Can't I please let her stay out? She'll be really quiet."

Harry really needed Hedwig out to send a letter to his friend Ron Weasley, but he wasn't going to let on. Petunia hated the concept of Owl Post, and if Uncle Vernon found out, Harry might have found himself without meals for a few days.

Petunia's eyes narrowed, and her thin lips pursed together. That was never a good sign. "You just need that fleabag owl to send letters to your...your...those abnormal people at that school of yours."

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow. "You mean my friends at Hogwarts?"

Petunia flared up. Her eyes popped slightly, and she shrieked out her beefy husband's name, still staring at Harry, as though he were a criminal. Uncle Vernon came thundering up the stairs. Petunia visibly shuddered and explained to Vernon how Harry was trying to send letters, and how rude he was to her.

Vernon roared at Harry, "Well, boy, what's this I hear about you trying to send correspondence to those freaks you associate with?"

Harry saw the hate in his aunt and uncle's eyes, and quickly decided to use that to his advantage. "I'm sorry, aunt and uncle, but I was only trying to send a letter to Ron, telling him I can leave tomorrow."

Vernon and Petunia didn't know if they should be angry because of Harry's disobedience and ungratefulness or hopping for joy because he was leaving. They tried for a sound medium: stern indifference.

"Oh, I see," said Vernon, as Petunia walked out of the room to attend to Dudley. "You're leaving tomorrow?"

Harry smiled. "Yes, sir. They'll be arriving at one-thirty by Floo Pow- uh, I mean, the way they did last time. No problems this time, though. I'll make sure everything's right."

Vernon frowned deeply. "Fine. The sooner you're out of here the better. But don't leave us with a mess in the fireplace, don't let anyone hurt Dudley, and most of all...NO FUNNY BUSINESS!!!!!!"

With that, Vernon stomped out of the room, grumbling about human decencies, Harry, freaks, Harry, Hedwig, Harry, the Weasleys and Harry again.

Harry picked up his quill dipped it in some ink and resumed writing.

Dear Ron,

Thanks again for inviting me to stay at your house. I can't wait to join you! If you could pick me up at around 1:30 p.m. tomorrow, it'd be great. Thanks!

P.S. have you read the Daily Prophet? Scary stuff, huh? Poor old Tom the innkeeper, killed by You-Know-Who. It's so sad.

~Harry.

Harry tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and let her out into the night. He said, "Take this to Ron. After that, please stay at the Burrow, and I'll be there tomorrow. Bye!"

Hedwig hooted goodbye and flew off, and Harry lay down to sleep. Little did he know, he was about to have a very odd dream.

He was floating! He was in a huge, white, completely spherical room. There was a figure sitting in the middle, holding a scrying crystal, (a crystal ball used in divination) and they had a mysterious aura around them. Harry swooped in for a closer look, and saw that the figure was a girl around his age. She looked vaguely familiar, but her face was covered with a hood. White robes with a symbol on the front pocket, which Harry couldn't make out, adorned her and she appeared to be concentrating very hard on her crystal. Suddenly, she gasped, like she had found something she wasn't expecting. Harry heard a scared, female voice saying, "No- no, anything but that!" and then a scream.

Harry looked at the girl sitting on the circular floor, whose crystal had turned a bright, frightening, luminescent green. Breathing heavily and gasping for air, she clapped a hand to her face with a strangled cry.

Then, something was said. Harry listened to hear more. It was then he realised with a jolt that her lips had not moved.

She was motionless again, but sounds could still be heard. It was as if she was still talking to someone through her mind. 'England...arrived in England...he's killing people. Harry's in trouble. Do you hear me, Harry? Beware, it's not safe! Sir? Sir! Come quick! Please...I have news...'

Words echoed around the spherical room. Dropping the crystal, she fainted. Harry's scar began to throb. The room became dark and then it disappeared. The girl's voice grew softer in Harry's head. He wanted to stay, to hear more, but his scar was burning horribly. He let himself drift back to reality.

When he awoke he had broken out in a sweat. Letting go of a breath he didn't know he was holding, he knew he had to tell Ron the first opportunity he got.