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Harry Potter And The Marauders Of The Phoenix
By The Englanderish

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Other, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape, Sirius Black
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Warnings: Death, Extreme Language, Mild Language, Violence, Violence/Physical Abuse
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 15
Summary: 'AU. Sirius Black has his name cleared and raises Harry (with help from Remus) in the Potters' ancestral home. One day a year, Harry must return to the Dursleys for a full day to keep his Mother's protection spell. He meets and befriends several characters early. On his eleventh birthday, Harry is given a diary and keeps it secret. Ginny finds out about it and they both write in the diary together secretly. They are taken slightly aback when it writes back at first but quickly get used to their new friend, Tom.

After all, it's not as if it could be dangerous, right?'
Hitcount: Story Total: 22006; Chapter Total: 2145





Author's Notes:
Years 1-4 are going to mostly whizz by, Most likely taking little more than 2-3 chapters per year.




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After making plans to talk to Tom again later, Harry and Ginny had stashed him in Harry's room, then discreetly rejoined the party. Not long after, however, a flurry of owls landed by the tall windows of the ballroom and begun insistently tapping the glass with their beaks. Each of the owls carried one or more letters.​

Mabel cringed.​

“Really Dumbledore? Really? You're sending them today?”​

She threw open the French windows onto the terrace, letting the flock in. They all quickly fluttered to their assigned children and deposited their letters in front of them.​

Percy, who was on one of the sofas, tore his open without a moment to lose.​

“I GOT IT!” he shouted, holding up a small badge proudly, “I'm a prefect!”​

Mrs. Weasley squealed and promptly subjected her son to what was best described as 'doting humiliation', promising a gift of a new owl.​

“Ron can have Scabbers then,” she said, “We can afford to splash out a bit. We'll have to arrange a visit to Diagon Alley...”​

Recovering from the outburst, the other children (sans Ginny, who skulked off) turned to their letters.​

Harry sat down on one of the sofas and opened his:​

'Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry​

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore​

(Order Of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)​


Dear Mr. Potter​

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.​

Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July.​

Yours Sincerely,​

Minerva McGonagall​

Deputy Headmistress'​


Also inside the envelope was a list of books and items he would need.​

Sirius glanced over Harry's shoulder at the list.​

“Right then, Molly, are you free this afternoon?” he asked her.​

“Yes I think so,” she replied thoughtfully, “I suppose a group outing is in order?”​

“That's what I was thinking,” said Sirius.​

“And I'm sure The Longbottoms and The Malfoys would be delighted to join us,” added Remus from across the ballroom.​

Sirius and Mrs. Weasley simultaneously pursed their lips in identical fashion at the mention of The Malfoys.​

“I suppose... if you insist,” Sirius said tentatively.​

“Oh I would only be too glad for our family to join you — the elf is not so incompetent that he cannot manage the whole day without us,” came Lucius's voice.​

“May as well,” added Mrs. Longbottom.​

“Susan, what about you? Do your parents have plans?” Remus asked the girl beside him.​

“Erm, sorry. I think they do,” she mumbled.​

“That's a shame. It's settled then,” said Remus.​

----------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- -----

Just in front of the entrance to The Leaky Cauldron, Sirius took Harry aside.​

“Now Harry... I have... spent a great deal of effort keeping you out of the limelight. Kids and fame shouldn't mix. But... unfortunately that's going to change when you walk in there. You remember what I told you about your parents and Voldemort?”​

Harry nodded.​

“Well... a lot of people know about you because of that. And... when you walk in there, it might be... difficult. They will probably be eager to talk to you and greet you. Just... whatever happens, don't let it get to you. Promise me?”​

Harry nodded again, “I won't let you down!”​

He plastered a big grin on his face.​

“Heh. Good lad.” Sirius ruffled Harry's hair.​

Then they walked into the Leaky Cauldron.​

Their not insubstantial party strode straight across the inn; the hunchbacked barman looked up at Sirius.​

“Your usual, Sirius?”​

Sirius laughed slightly, “I'm afraid not, Tom. Not in front of my ward.”​

Tom froze.​

His eyes darted to Harry. Then they found his scar.​

“Is? Is this? Bless my soul — can this — it's Harry Potter!”​

The entire inn fell silent.

“Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back!”​

Tom quickly closed the distance and wrung Harry's hand earnestly.​

Then suddenly everyone was on their feet, a general buzzing had started up. They all quickly formed a queue, coming up to Harry, shaking his hand and expressing varying levels of adulation.​

“Doris Crockford — can't quite believe I'm meeting you at last!”​

“Dedalus Diggle, terribly excited to meet you!”​

Harry did a small double take.​

“Didn't you come round our house to give Sirius something once?”​

Diggle's top hat almost fell off at this.​

“He remembers! Did you all hear that? He remembers me!”​

After much handshaking, including a frequently returning Doris Crockford, Sirius and Remus eventually ploughed through the mob to the back. There stood two people in conversation who were keeping an eye on the proceedings.​

The first was a giant of a man, at least twice as tall as a normal man and at least three times as wide. He had beady black eyes and a rather impressive beard.​

The second man was rather unassuming and appeared to be almost quivering.​

“Hagrid!” Remus said to the first man, “How are you?”​

“Doing well,” Hagrid replied, “Gotta run an errand fer Dumbledore,” then he turned to Harry. “Allow me ter introduce meself; Rubeus Hagrid. I'm the grounds-keeper at Hogwarts. This 'ere's Professor Quirrell,” he gestured to the other man, “'E'll be yer Defence Against The Dark Arts prefesser at Hogwarts.”​

Quirrell timidly shook Harry's hand.​

“Har-rr-y P-Pott-tter; c-can't t-tel you h-how p-pleased I a-am to m-meet you!” He pointed at Harry's scar, “N-n-n-not that you n-need i-it, eh?”​

Harry shook his head, “I s'pose not.”​

“Hmm,” said Sirius, “Well, we had best be going. Would either of you care to join us?”​

“O-oh, I-I'm af-f-fraid I c-can't M-M-Mr. Black,” stammered out Quirrell, “I-I h-have i-important b-b-busin-n-n-ness. G-g-good t-t-to m-meet you, Mr. P-Potter.”​

“Eh, I'll come with ye',” said Hagrid.​

They all filed out the back of The Leaky Cauldron. Remus tapped the third brick on the left of the brick wall and the group spilled onto Diagon Alley.​

When they arrived at Gringotts, they split into groups. The Weasleys went off to their vault, the Malfoys theirs and Sirius, Remus and Hagrid went with Harry to his. Hagrid mentioned something about his vault being on the same route. He had been rather shifty in his manner as he quietly passed their goblin attendant, Griphook, a message from Professor Albus Dumbledore. Griphook has studied the letter carefully before nodding mutedly.​

After seeing the small fortune in his vault, Harry turned to Sirius.​

“This is all mine?”​

“Yep,” said Sirius with a small smile.​

They took a modest sum — enough to pay for Harry's school items plus an allowance for the first term. When they arrived at the vault Hagrid was here for, Harry was slightly surprised to find there was no key-hole. Instead, Griphook ran his finger down the door and it melted away.​

“If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” said Griphook rather smugly.​

“Um... how... how often do you check to see if anyone's inside?” asked Harry warily.​

Griphook gave an unsettlingly predatory grin, “About once every ten years.”​

Hagrid quickly swiped the single small package from the vault and they returned back to the entrance of Gringotts. They ran into Quirrell briefly on the way out. He nodded in greeting at them.​

After touring the various shops — Flourish & Blotts, The Magical Menagerie, the apothecaries and Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions — they crowded outside Olivander's.​

“I think they should go in alone,” said Remus pensively.​

Lucius raised an eyebrow, “Why?”​

“I think this is something they should experience on their own.”​

Lucius shrugged, “Very well. Shall we wait at that cafe?”​

“That sound like a good idea,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “I have been on my feet entirely too long. Neville, there's no need to go in there; you can have your father's wand.”​

Neville looked slightly disappointed as he turned away from the shop.​

Harry, Ron and Draco all looked at each other. Then they strode into the shop.​

It was quiet and dim inside. They couldn't see anyone.​

“Hello?” asked Harry.​

Suddenly, from behind a shelf, a slightly ragged yet well-dressed man stepped into view.​

He surveyed each of them.​

“I wondered when I would be seeing each of you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy. I am Mr. Olivander.”​

He pottered over to them and pulled out a tape measure.​

“It seems only yesterday that each of your parents were in here buying their first wands. Ah, how the time flies. In the manufacture of my wands, I use phoenix feathers, unicorn hairs or dragon heartstring cores. The wood is the finest quality and each wand is handmade. Now if you please; I must measure you. Which are your wand arms?”​

With that he spent the next hour taking each of their measurements, even in the most illogical places.​

Eventually, he withdrew and turned to his shelves. He returned with boxes of wands in his arms and put them into one of three piles, one in front of each of them. Then he gave them each a wand from their pile, seemingly at random.​

They stood there for a moment, clutching each of their wands.​

“Well? Wave them.”​

Harry waved his wand. Nothing happened.​

Draco tried — again, no result.​

Ron waved his wand. ​

Suddenly the room burst into flames.​

With a wave of his own wand, Mr. Olivander extinguished it.​

“Definitely not for you, I think.”​

He took back each wand and handed them new wands.​

Draco sent a spray of emerald sparks out of his wand.​

“Ah ha!” said Mr. Olivander, “There we are. This, Mr. Malfoy is your wand. Ten inches, hawthorn, unicorn hair core; reasonably pliant. If you would stand to one side please?”​

Draco looked at his wand. It was short, brown and simple, with a black handle. He smirked.​

“I like it.”​

Harry and Ron didn't manage anything with their wands.​

They returned them and were handed more. They kept waving with three more to no avail.​

On the sixth try, Ron sent what looked like glitter out of his wand.​

“Ah, very good. Fourteen inches, willow, unicorn hair; somewhat... kinky in composure.”​

Ron looked more closely at his wand. It had a sort of rippling look to it and a small bulbous handle.

"Wicked!"​

Harry kept trying... and trying... and trying.​

“Hmm,” said Mr. Olivander after a while, “Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find a match here somewhere. Try this; eleven inches, swishy, willow; dragon heartstring.”​

Harry gave it a wave. A glass oil lamp shattered.​

Mr. Olivander sighed.​

“Hmm, I wonder...”​

He glanced at the back of the shop to a jumbled stack of dusty wand boxes. He bustled to the stack and returned with one of the dusty boxes.​

“Perhaps... this? Interesting combination, eleven inches, holly and phoenix feather core; nice and supple.”​

He handed Harry the wand. As Harry took it, he felt almost... warmer... more at home... more complete. It was a rich brown with a handle like a rough twig.​

He gave it a wave.​

A great stream of golden and red sparks shot in an arc from it.​

“Oh, I say! Very good Mr. Potter! Very good indeed! Most spectacular! Most... curious... curious.”​

Mr. Olivander scratched his chin, all the time saying, “Curious,” to himself over an over again.​

“Erm, Mr. Olivander, sorry... but... what's curious?”​

Mr. Olivander almost seemed to appraise the question — as if he was wondering whether to answer it or not. Finally he responded.​

“I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter; every single one of them. It is curious that this wand has chosen you. The wand chooses the wizard. It is not particularly clear why. It is especially curious for this wand to choose you because the phoenix that gave your wand its feather gave one other feather — that feather was made into another wand — a twin if you will. Holly, yew, thirteen and a half inches; very powerful, in the wrong hands. I sold the twin of your wand to the man who gave you that scar.”​

Olivander tapped Harry's forehead with his wand.​

Ron and Draco stared with wide eyes.​

“That will be seven galleons please,” said Mr. Olivander, suddenly returning to a businesslike tone as if nothing unusual had happened.​

They all dug through their pockets. Draco and Harry handed over their gold. Ron suddenly looked slightly crestfallen.​

“Um... I... I don't have enough...”​

Harry turned to him, “It's fine. I'll pay for it.”​

“NO!” started Ron, “Don't. Just... just don't. My parents can't afford to give me more money. I'll have to use one of my brothers' old wands. I think Charlie's isn't too worn out.”​

Mr. Olivander frowned, “Hmm. Tell you what Mr. Weasley; I will hold onto this wand and set it aside. Then one day, when you can afford it, it'll be here waiting for you.”​

Ron gazed into his eyes for a moment.​

“Okay.”

---- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ------------------------

Sirius had sat at a different table to Lucius and Narcissa. After sighing, Remus, along with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had sat down with Sirius while Neville and Mrs. Longbottom tentatively took seats with the Malfoys.​

Remus leaned close to Sirius, “Would it kill you to at least try to be civil?”​

“Possibly,” was all he got in return.​

There was a slightly awkward silence as their teas and coffees were brought.​

Eventually, a tentative conversation started between the Malfoys and Mrs. Longbottom. Under cover of this, Sirius spoke to Remus.​

“Why do you insist on repeatedly involving the Malfoys in our lives?”​

Remus sipped his tea.​

“Because this isn't about Lucius. Or you.”​

“So what is it about? And why is it so important that it has to involve us?”​

“This,” said Remus as he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder discreetly at Olivander's, where the children were visible through the front window, “Is about Draco.”​

Sirius stared at the boy, then at Lucius and Narcissa.​

Then he turned back to Remus.​

“You crafty bastard.”​

Molly sniffed. “Well, at least now I know why we've been forced to put up with them all these years. Do you think it's working?”​

Remus studied Draco through the window.​

“I'd like to think so... but I honestly don't know.”​

----------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- -----

“So what do you think?”​

“It's... long. Actually, it's way longer than I thought.”​

“I know, right? Draco's is shorter but Ron's is massive!”​

“It's kinda thin though... can I hold it?”​

“Sure.”​

“The handle is kinda... rough.”​

“I like it. I think it suits me.”​

“If you say so...”​

“Can I have it back now?”​

“Oh, sure.”​

Ginny handed Harry back his new wand. They were both on the chandelier frame again — it being the one place they knew they would never be found. Mabel sent a crew up to the loft once or twice a year to inspect and maintain things, but didn't seem to know that Harry knew about the chandelier frame. And Harry knew that she didn't know that he knew.​

You know?​

“So, should we talk to Tom again?” she asked.​

Harry nodded and opened the diary.​

'Are you there, Tom?'​

'I am always here. How was your day?'​

'It's Harry here; Me and my friends went to Diagon Alley. We have wands now.'​

'Ah, yes. That sounds good. Would you tell me about your wands? By the way, you don't need to capitalise after a semi-colon.'​


'A what?' asked Ginny.​

Harry shrugged. 'Dunno, better ask him.'​

'Well, mine's eleven inches, holly with a phoenix feather. (What's a semi colon?)'​

'Interesting; my wand was phoenix feather too. The wood was yew. This is a semi-colon → ;.'​


Harry started, “Huh. That's odd.”​

“You... don't think...” said Ginny, chewing her lip slightly.​

“Maybe...”​


“Nah; that'd be a crazy coincidence,” remarked Ginny, “I mean, what are the odds?”​

'Huh, neat. (So something like this; is that right?)'​

'Yes, that's very good. What about you Ginny? Did you do anything interesting today?'​


Harry handed her the quill.​

'Ginny here. No, not really. I really want to go to Hogwarts, but I'm too young.'​

'Give it time. Enjoy your last year before school. I never had that chance.'​


They both frowned at that.​

'Why?'​

' I grew up in an orphanage; it was not a nice place. Now Hogwarts... Hogwarts was something to behold. This might sound somewhat cliché, but Hogwarts is where I found myself.'​


“'Cleesh'?” said Harry, perplexed. “What does that mean?”​

It was Ginny's turn to shrug, “A better question would be what that thing on top of the 'e' is...”​

She put quill to paper again.​

'Er, sorry, but what does cliché mean? And what's that thing on top of the 'e'?'​

'Cliché means that something is overused or really common so much that it sounds silly or stops having meaning. Well, that's a rough meaning at least. The 'thing on top of the 'e' is called an acute accent; it makes the 'e' sound like 'ay'.'​

'Oh, right.'​


Suddenly they heard the distant voice of Mabel calling for dinner.​

“Ah,” said Harry, “We'd better get going before she wonders where we are.”​

Ginny nodded then wrote a final message to Tom.​

'Mabel's calling us for dinner. Got to go. Sorry.'​

'It was good talking to you both. Do please come talk write to me again.'​


Ginny closed the book and gave it to Harry. On their way down to eat, Harry made sure to stash it in his room.​

“Oh, there you are,” said Mabel as they took seats in the dining room with everyone else. “What were you up to?”​

“Harry was showing me his wand,” said Ginny cheerily.​

Mabel snorted into her soup.​

She stared at them.​

They gaped at her.​

“Er... Mabel? What... what was that about?” said Harry.​

Then he and Ginny realised that everyone barring Ron, Neville, Draco and Susan were staring at them. The other youngsters were also looking rather bewildered.​

Mabel recovered first.​

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”​

She shot everyone else a look that said, quite plainly, 'tell them and you die'.​

After another moment's pause, the others returned to their food.​

------------------------ ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ----

“ALL ABOARD!” called the conductor.​

Harry stowed his trunk in the luggage rack, then joined Ron, Susan and Neville at the window. Draco had wandered off.​

“Be good Harry,” said Sirius, sternly.​

“Like you were?” Harry smirked back.​

“How did you-”​

“Remus and Mabel,” came Harry's cutting reply.​

“Hmm, yes, well. If you do find it in you to misbehave, I assure you Mabel will find out. Also, you can be any house you want as long as it's not Slytherin.”​

“And what, may I ask, is wrong with Slytherin?” came Mabel's voice pointedly from over Sirius' shoulder.​

“Nothing, Lady Mabelton, nothing at all.”​

“Good answer. But if you ever call me that again, I shall demand a pay rise.”​

Sirius chuckled nervously and ruffled Harry's hair before stepping back. While Mrs. Weasley fawned over Ron, Remus stepped up to Harry.​

“Now, Harry. You will meet someone at Hogwarts... who I suspect won't like you. And I suspect you won't like him,” he began. “It may seem difficult, but... just try to not let it get to you. His name is Professor Snape and he was not fond of your father to say the least. Have a good year — I'll see you on the other side.”​

Then it was Mabel's turn.​

“If you come back in anything less than pristine condition, Mr. Potter, then I shall hold you personally responsible,” she said.​

There was a short pause.​

Mabel stepped close so neither Sirius, nor Remus could see.​

Then she gave him a quick hug.​

“You will tell no-one of this.”​

Then she stepped back.​

Ginny, who was standing next to her mother, took advantage of her diverted attention to quickly whisper to Harry.​

“You'll send it, right? You promised.”​

“Once a month,” he grinned back.​

Then the whistle blew and the train began to pull away. Sirius, Remus, Mabel, the Weasleys, the Malfoys, Mrs. Longbottom and the Boneses all stood on the platform and waved them off. Then they hit a bend and the grown-ups — and Ginny — were out of sight.

“You didn't tell him about the map; or the Marauders,” Mabel quietly said to Sirius and Remus.

Sirius gave her a look.

“I know you don't think much of my parenting abilities, but I am at least trying to be responsible.”

---------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------- ------------

“And so, the adventure begins...” said Susan quietly, “What house do you reckon you'll get?”​

“Probably Gryffindor,” said Ron and Harry at the same time.​

“I'd... like Gryffindor...” said Neville, “But... I... don't know if I'm cut out for it.”​

“You'll be fine,” said Ron lazily, “What about you Susan? You wanna be a Gryffindor too, right?”​

Susan tapped her fingers nervously.​

“I'd... like to be a Hufflepuff...”​

The other three stared at her.​

“Hufflepuff?” asked Ron. “Hufflepuff sucks!”​

“I like working hard,” she said quietly.

Ron gaped at her.

"Crazy girl... anyway, anyone up for chess?"​

They passed time playing wizard chess. Ron destroyed them all. To be fair, Susan did quite well, but even she was ultimately no match for him. They bought a small sweet hoard from the trolley and were beginning a game of gobstones when the compartment door slid open.​

“Do you mind if I come in?” came a polite, female voice. “Everyone outside is behaving very childishly; racing up and down.”​

They all looked up to see a lanky girl with pale complexion, bushy brown hair, large front teeth, and a rather peeved expression on her face.​
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