Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; all belongs to JKR.

A/N: Okay, I did wonder whether to follow on from OoTP, or to continue from Show Not Your Fear, but I decided to do this in the end, due to certain events happening at the end of OoTP. I recommend you read Show Not Your Fear first, but it's not essential. So this is almost-definitely an AU. If you don't like it, you don't have to read it. If you do like it, read on, and please review!

Chapter 1; The Order of Phoenix

The English countryside was peaceful and silent. The summer night air was warm—a reminder of how hot the day before had been; perhaps the hottest of the summer so far. Stars winked from the dark sky above, and the glowing orb of the full moon provided the only light in the open countryside. The scene could not have been more tranquil.

A sharp bark pierced the silence; a large shaggy dog leaped out from the long grass. Its bark was met with a low howl. A wolf jumped at the dog, playfully pushing it to the ground, and then bounded a little way off. The black dog picked itself off the ground, trying its best to look dignified, but the wolf let out a small bark that could have been a laugh. Looking disgruntled, the dog sat heavily back down.

"I'm worried about him Moony."

His words came out as a series of soft barks, but the wolf understood.

"I'm sure he's fine, Padfoot. Remember he's nearly sixteen; he can take care of himself. He said so."

The dog let out a little sigh. "He's not a normal fifteen year-old, though; he's Harry Potter, and consequently number one on Voldemort's hit list. What if he's attacked while we're not there? What if he has a nightmare? What if he's ill?"

"He could have gone to Katherine's," the wolf said, sounding amused. "Only you wouldn't even consider it. You're not the only godparent – she is his godmother."

"Yes, well…" the dog muttered darkly.

"You can go back to the house, if you want, if you're worried about him. I doubt he's even awake; we did tell him not to wait up…"

"And I wonder if we were right to do so. He could have a dream about Voldemort, or worse – he could be attacked while he's sleeping!"

"There's enough protection on the house to ensure no unwanted guests can get in, Padfoot. And if Harry has a dream…well, he'll write to Dumbledore, and then tell us in the morning. He's not stupid, you know. You don't give him enough credit."

"I suppose…" The dog's gaze drifted upwards towards the sky. "I wonder what Lily and James think of the job we're doing?"

"I think they'd be pleased, Padfoot, I really do. All they ever wanted for Harry was for him to be happy. And he's happy now."

"He's seen too much at his age. It's a wonder he can even smile after what he's seen…"

"True, he doesn't smile as much as maybe he should, but he's coping remarkably well."

"Well, that just makes up for everything, doesn't it?" There was an icy edge to the dog's voice.

"Padfoot, he saw his girlfriend die, and almost saw you die too – how do you think most people would feel? Very guilty. Now take that guilt and multiply it by a thousand times, and you get some idea of how much Harry blames himself. He's a tough kid, though; he doesn't let his emotions about that show very often."

The dog was silent for a while. "I don't know what to do, Moony, I really don't. He's been through hell and back more times than I'd like to count, and yet, he refuses to share his pain. How on earth can I get him to stop bottling everything up. It doesn't do him any good."

"He'll come round, old friend. He'll talk when he's ready. But don't push it – Mundungus Fletcher thinks Harry's going to crack and have a breakdown any day. Don't give him the satisfaction of being right – we all know how insufferable he can be…"

The dog didn't answer; merely turned round and sat down again, so that his body was facing in the direction of the house.

---

Harry Potter, contrary to anything Mundungus Fletcher might think, was not verging on the edge of a mental breakdown. True, he realised he might have been had he been forced to return to the Durselys' that summer, but this wasn't the case. He was living in a huge house with his godfather and his godfather's best friend, who did everything possible to ensure he was happy. And he was. Most of the time.

He threw the duvet cover off his body in pure frustration. It really was no use; he was never going to get any sleep in this heat, and knowing that Sirius and Remus were running around outside as dog and werewolf respectively didn't help much either. They hadn't allowed him to accompany them, despite the fact he could take whatever Animagus form he wished; he was the Heir of Gryffindor, and this happened to be one of the many abilities he had inherited, and sometimes wished he didn't have. Sirius was generally easygoing on most things, but even he had put his foot down on this one. '"No, Harry, I don't want you out and about at that time of night – especially when both Remus and I can't defend you if need be. It's just for one night. You don't mind, do you?" And Harry had replied, with some resignation in his voice: "No, I can take care of myself."

He regretted that answer now. It was true he could take care of himself, but it was also true that he'd rather be outside with Sirius and Remus. Sighing, the teen sat up in bed, and reached for a letter he had received the day before, a spare piece of parchment and a quill. Almost as an afterthought, he took his inkbottle from the nearby desk as well.

Dear Harry,

How are you? Is Sirius feeding you well? I know Remus would, but Sirius can be a little irresponsible. And, good grief, that man's probably going to leave you in the house alone tonight—I offered to take you, but he wouldn't have it. Honestly.

Congratulations on your OWL results; you must be very pleased. I'm very proud of you. For your own interest, I have enclosed a copy of Jessica's OWL results.

I think she would have wanted you to know, as she can't herself. And don't you dare start blaming yourself again; it wasn't your fault. If it's anyone's, it's Voldemort's. Don't beat yourself up about it. I've done enough of that for the two of us.

Anyway, I hope to see you soon, if that idiot who also likes to call himself your godfather is willing. And if he isn't, tell him I'm seeing you anyway.

Love

Katherine

Very wisely, perhaps, Harry had not shown the letter to his godfather. It was a well-known fact that Sirius and Katherine did not exactly get on very well. Every time they were in the same room, it seemed to Harry as though they were immersed in an argument within three minutes. Sirius, Harry suspected, was afraid Katherine would try and take his godson away from him, and that Harry might want to live with his godmother instead. Katherine, on the other hand, thought Sirius was too jealous, and was determined to see more of Harry, just to wind Sirius up.

Harry took out the other piece of parchment attached to the letter. He had put off looking at this until now; he hadn't been on his own long enough to see it. But now he felt ready to look at Jessica's results.

Dear Mrs. K. Greenfield,

Your daughter's OWL results would have been as follows:

Advanced Charms - Exceeds Expectations

Advanced Herbology - Average

Arithmancy – Exceeds Expectations

Care of Magical Creatures - Outstanding

Charms – Outstanding

Defence Against the Dark Arts - Average

Herbology - Outstanding

History of Magic - Average

Medical Training - Outstanding

Potions - Average

Transfiguration – Exceeds Expectations

Overall, your daughter came 7th in the year.

We offer our deepest condolences on your loss of your daughter.

Professor McGonnagall

Deputy Headmistress.

Harry sighed, running his fingers through his already-messy hair. No matter what Katherine said, if it wasn't for him, Jessica would have got her OWL results herself. He could have dissuaded her…stopped her…anything…from seeing Voldemort. But, no, he'd wanted someone there with him, and he'd led Ron, Hermione and Jessica into danger.

And now Jessica was dead.

It should have been Harry, and he knew it.

Dear Katherine,

I'm fine – how are you? Yes, I am being fed enough; Remus does most of the cooking anyway. And, yes, they left me here by myself, but this is probably the safest place in Britain at the moment, the amount of protection spells that are on it.

Harry had the sudden urge to pour out everything to his godmother, to tell her that it was his entire fault her daughter was dead, but he couldn't. He knew it would be of no use; Katherine would tell him it most certainly not, and Sirius would be annoyed that Harry had told Katherine instead of him.

Thanks for Jessica's OWL results – I really do appreciate it.

Harry

Yeah, Harry decided, that looked okay. It didn't seem as though he was being over-emotional, but it didn't make him look like some ice-king either. He called Hedwig over, talking to the white snowy owl softly as he tied the letter to her leg. She gave him a friendly nip on the fingers, and flew out of the window.

---

Sirius let himself into the house at approximately six o'clock in the morning. The sun had already risen, and Remus Lupin was no longer a wolf. His body lay battered and bruised in Sirius' arms; he was still unconscious. Sirius' plan was to put him straight to bed, then head to his own bed. He would call Poppy Pomfrey later on in the afternoon.

What he didn't expect to find, however, was his godson already up and doing his homework at the kitchen table.

"Harry?"

The fifteen year-old looked up, startled. His whole posture relaxed when he saw it was only his godfather.

"Hi Sirius." His gaze fell on Remus. "Is he all right?"

"He'll be fine; he took the wolfsbane potion, remember. It was a relatively mild night, compared to some I've seen. He'll still need to see Pomfrey, though. I'll be back down in a second."

He disappeared upstairs, taking his friend with him as he went. After transfiguring Remus' clothes into pyjamas, and putting him in bed, he came back downstairs, into the kitchen, flopping down into a seat opposite Harry.

"So, tell me," he said, "whatever possessed you to get up early just to do homework? Don't tell me you were that eager to do Snape's essay."

Harry shrugged, keeping his eyes on the parchment in front of him. "It's Advanced Transfiguration, actually. I don't see the point of setting us homework in the subjects we're going to drop anyway."

"What are you doing up, anyway? It is six am, you know."

"I know." Again, Harry shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

Sirius looked sceptical. "How long have you been up?"

"Dunno – most of the night, I guess."

Sirius groaned. "We told you not to wait up."

"It's just like I said; I couldn't sleep." Harry's eyes met Sirius'. "Don't moan at me – I'll catch up on the sleep tonight."

Silence fell. Sirius' expression was now one of reproach. "Harry, you're not inhuman. You do need sleep."

"You haven't had any all night," Harry couldn't help but to point out.

"I'm just about to grab some now. Once I'm sure you're going to go to bed, and go to sleep for a few hours."

"I'm not tired," Harry said, stubbornly, and then returned to his essay. Sirius got the impression he was still upset at being left alone the whole night, instead of being allowed to come. Sirius stood up.

"Have it your way. Go to sleep if you're tired."

"I'm not."

Sirius had already left the room.

Around four hours later, having completed his History essay, and started on his Advanced Charms, Harry proceeded to make himself a cup of coffee – something that Sirius had managed to get him into when he had trouble staying awake.

"Morning, Harry."

Harry looked up to see the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore. He gestured to the coffee pot. "Coffee, sir?"

"That would be very much appreciated." The old headmaster sat down at the kitchen table, smiling as Harry put a mug of steaming coffee in front of him. "I trust you found your OWL results to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, thank you, sir," said Harry, taking a seat opposite Dumbledore. "Sirius and Remus were pleased."

"And so they should be; they were excellent results." Dumbledore smiled, but there was something in his eyes; something which hinted that there was more.

Harry frowned. "That's not all you came here to discuss, was it, Professor?"

Dumbledore held Harry's gaze intently for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, Harry, that is not all." His gaze flittered up to the ceiling. "I suppose Sirius and Remus are sleeping?"

Harry nodded. "It was a full moon last night, Professor."

"I guessed as much. Very well. That makes what I am about to tell you much easier." He looked at Harry seriously over the top of his half moon glasses. "I thought you might prefer to be asked this on your own.

"You may have heard of the Order of the Phoenix from either your godfather, Remus or your godmother, possibly?"

Harry shook his head. He remembered vaguely hearing about it once, although he had never really known anything about it. Dumbledore sighed.

"Very well, I will start at the beginning.

"The Order of the Phoenix first came about in the first war against Voldemort. It consisted of a band of witches and wizards, who came together to fight Voldemort, but the Ministry did not know about it. The Ministry still does not know, and I hope they will not find out for a good many years. It was founded by myself. I hand pick the members. Among those members in the first war were Sirius, Remus, Katherine and, yes, your parents, Harry."

Harry smiled, shyly. More information about his parents.

"However, in this war, we have had to recruit more members, and still our members are not full." Dumbledore looked very old all of a sudden. "I was wondering if you would consider joining our ranks, Harry."

"M-me?" Harry's eyes were round. "But I'm not talented, or anything…well, apart from being the Heir of Gryffindor, but if it wasn't for that—"

"Whatever the circumstances, Harry, you are a very powerful wizard; more powerful than most adult wizards, in fact. I would not usually ask someone under eighteen to join, but you are an exception to the rule." Dumbledore surveyed Harry carefully. "This is a decision that should not be made light-heartedly. It can be very dangerous, hence—"

"—Why you thought I should be told on my own," Harry finished. "Sirius wouldn't want me to be in any more danger."

Dumbledore nodded. "You may tell him if you so wish, but do not allow him to make your decision for you."

Harry looked down at his hands, biting his lip. Much as he wanted to join the Order, he knew that Sirius would be angry that he had purposefully put himself in more danger than necessary. He would also be angry with Dumbledore for even suggesting it in the first place. And, yet, strangely enough, Harry couldn't let go of the idea.

"Do I have to give an answer right now, sir?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, no. I want you to give the matter careful thought and consideration. I would, however, like an answer a week from now at most."

Harry rubbed his forehead, still thinking about it. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent." Dumbledore drained the last of his coffee, and stood up. "I must be leaving you, now, but do remember Harry; no one can make your decision for you."

"I'll remember that, sir."

Harry only watched as the Headmaster let himself out of the house. Despite the whirlwind of information swirling around in his head, there was only one thought that stayed clear in his mind:

How on earth did he manage to get himself into these situations?

A/N: That concludes chapter 1, for today, folks. And, goodness, it's long…hope you enjoy! Please review!