After HP shared the dream, Lao Fu was conquered by me

"It's time to start landing!" Lupin's voice came over, "Harry, follow Tonks!"

Harry followed Tonks as they dove. They were flying towards a vast expanse of light, the most massive he'd ever seen, a crisscrossing, interspersed pattern stretching out in all directions, dotted with deep black squares. They flew lower and lower until Harry could make out individual car and streetlights, chimneys and TV aerials. He longed to reach the ground, though he was certain he'd need someone to thaw him out before he could get off his broom.

"We're here!" Tonks yelled, and seconds later she landed on the ground.

Harry landed right behind her, dismounting his broom on a patch of unkempt grass in the middle of a small square. Tonks had already untied Harry's trunk from its sling. Harry shivered and looked around. The fronts of the houses around him were grim and forbidding. Some had broken windows that gleamed dimly in the streetlights, many had peeling paint on their doors, and several had garbage piled on their front steps.

"What is this place?" Harry asked. But Lupin whispered, "Wait a minute."

Moody rummaged in his cloak, his gnarled hands numb with cold.

"Found it," he muttered, holding up something that looked like a silver lighter and clicking it.

The nearest streetlight went out with a pop. He clicked the deluminator again, and the second light also went out. He kept clicking, and finally all the street lights in the square went out, leaving only the bright light coming from the windows with curtains drawn, and the clear light cast by the curved moon in the night sky.

"Borrowed it from Dumbledore," Moody growled, pocketing the Deluminator. "To keep Muggles from looking out the window, understand? Now go, quick."

He took Harry's arm and led him out of the grass, across the road and onto the pavement, Lupin and Tonks following with Harry's trunk, while the others, wands drawn, flanked them.

From the upper windows of the nearest house came the faint rumble of a stereo, and the acrid stench of rotting garbage emanated from the bulging garbage bags piled inside the dilapidated gate.

"Here," said Moody gruffly, pressing a piece of parchment into Harry's disembodied hand and bringing his glowing wand close to illuminate the words. "Read this quickly and memorize it."

Harry looked down at the paper. The long, thin handwriting on it seemed familiar. It said: The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is ​​located at 12 Grimmauld Place, London. "What is the Phoenix--?" Harry was about to ask.

"Don't talk here, boy!" Moody snapped. "Wait until we get inside!"

He snatched the parchment from Harry's hand and set it on fire with the end of his wand. The paper curled up and burned, then fluttered to the ground. Harry looked up at the houses around him. They were now standing outside number 11. He looked to his left and saw number 10, and to his right, number 13.

"But why is it missing—?"

"Think about what you just memorized," Lupin said softly.

Harry was so absorbed in his thoughts that he had barely reached number 12, Grimmauld Place, when a tattered door suddenly appeared between numbers 11 and 13. Then came grimy walls and grim windows, as if an extra house had suddenly risen up, pushing everything aside. Harry stared in amazement. The stereo in number 11 was still humming dully, apparently oblivious to the Muggles living there.

"Come on, hurry up," Moody growled, poking Harry in the back.

Harry climbed the worn stone steps, his eyes wide open as he stared at the newly created door. The black paint was peeling, scratched here and there. The silver knocker was in the shape of a large, coiled snake. There was no keyhole, no mailbox.

Lupin drew his wand and knocked on the door. Harry heard a loud clang of metal on metal and a clattering sound like a chain. The door creaked open.

"Come on in, Harry," Lupin whispered, "but don't go too far in, and don't touch anything." Harry stepped over the threshold into the nearly pitch-black hallway. He smelled a damp, gray smell, a sweet, rotten odor. The place had the feel of a deserted, empty house. He turned and looked behind him to see the others filing in. Lupin and Tonks were carrying his trunk and Hedwig's cage. Moody stood on the top step outside, releasing the orbs of light that the Deluminator had stolen from the streetlights. One by one, they jumped into their respective bulbs, and in an instant the square was illuminated with orange light again. Moody limped in and closed the front door, leaving the hallway in even more darkness.

"Here—" He tapped Harry's head hard with his wand. This time Harry felt something warm run down his back, and he knew the Disillusionment Charm had been lifted. "All right, everybody, stay put while I get some light in here," Moody said softly.

Hearing the hushed voices give Harry a strange, ominous feeling, as if they were entering a house where someone is dying. He heard a rustling noise, and then a row of old-fashioned gas lamps on the wall flared up, casting a flickering, unreal light across the long, gloomy hallway, its peeling wallpaper and frayed, threadbare carpet. A spiderweb-like chandelier flickered overhead, and portraits, blackened by age, hung askew on the walls. Harry heard something scurry past behind the skirting boards. The chandelier and the candelabra on a rickety table nearby were shaped like giant snakes. There was a rush of footsteps, and Ron's mother, Mrs. Weasley, emerged from a door at the other end of the hall. She came toward them in two slow strides, a warm smile on her face, though Harry noticed that she was thinner and paler than when he last saw her.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so glad to see you!" she whispered, pulling him close to her, nearly breaking his ribs, then pushing him away a little to examine him closely. "You look thinner; you need to eat more, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait a while before dinner."

She turned to the group of wizards behind Harry and whispered rapidly, "He's just arrived. The meeting has already started."

The wizards behind Harry made noises of concern and excitement and began to move past him towards the door Mrs. Weasley had just come out of. Harry was about to follow Lupin when Mrs. Weasley stopped him.

"No, Harry, only members of the Order of the Phoenix can attend the meeting. Ron and Hermione are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting is over, and then we will have dinner. Keep your voices down in the hall." She whispered again in an urgent tone.

"why?"

"I don't want to wake anything."

"What did you say—?"

"I'll explain it to you later. Now I have to hurry over. I should be at the meeting—I'll tell you where you sleep." She pressed a finger to her lips and led Harry on tiptoe past two long, moth-eyed curtains—behind what Harry assumed must be another door. Then they passed a large umbrella stand that looked like it was made from a troll's severed leg, and then went up a dark staircase. A row of wrinkled heads were clustered on the wall plaque. Harry looked closer and saw that they were the heads of house-elves. They all had the same ugly, large noses.

Harry's confusion grew with every step he took. What were they doing in a house that looked like it belonged to the most evil of Dark wizards? "Mrs. Weasley, why—?"

"Ron and Hermione will explain everything to you, dear. I really must hurry," Mrs. Weasley whispered distractedly. "There you are"—they reached the second landing—"—you're the second door on the right. I'll call you when it's over."

After saying that, she hurried downstairs again.

Harry crossed the dimly lit landing and turned the snake-head-shaped bedroom doorknob, opening it.

He took only a fleeting glance at the dimly lit room, its high ceilings, its twin beds side by side, when he heard a sharp squeak, followed by a sharper scream, and then his vision was completely obscured by a mass of fuzzy, matted hair. Hermione lunged at him, nearly knocking him over, while Ron's little owl, Piglet, flew excitedly in circles above their heads.

"Harry! Ron, there he is, Harry! We didn't hear you come in! Oh, how are you? Are you all right? Are you mad at us? You must be. I know our letters are all useless nonsense - but we can't tell you anything, Dumbledore swears us not to tell anything, and oh, there's so much we want to tell you, and you have so much to tell us too - the Dementors! When we heard about it - and about that trial at the Ministry - it was outrageous. I've checked, and they can't expel you, they absolutely can't. The Reasonable Restraint of Underage Wizards Act says you can use magic in life-threatening situations -" "Let him breathe, Hermione," said Ron, smiling as he closed the door behind him. He seemed to have grown a few inches in the month they had been apart, making him look taller and gaunter, though the long nose, the flaming red hair, the freckles were still the same.

Hermione let go of Harry, her face still beaming, but before she could say anything else, there was a soft whirring sound, and something white came flying from the top of the dark wardrobe, landing lightly on Harry's shoulder. "Hedwig!" Harry stroked the snow-white owl's feathers. Its beak made a clicking sound and it pecked Harry's ear lovingly. "It's been so antsy," said Ron. "It nearly pecked us to death when it brought us your last two letters. Look at this—" He held up his right index finger to show Harry a wound that was almost healed, but was obviously very deep. "Oh," said Harry. "I'm so sorry, but I want an answer, you know—"

"We'd like to give you answers, too, mate," said Ron. "Hermione's been terribly worried. She keeps saying you're going to do something stupid if you're stuck in there with no news. But Dumbledore made us -" " - swear not to tell me," said Harry. "Yeah, Hermione did."

The warm joy he had felt at seeing his two best friends was dying down, and something cold settled deep inside him, and suddenly - despite having longed to see them for a whole month - he felt like he would rather Ron and Hermione go away and leave him alone.

There was an uneasy silence as Harry mechanically stroked Hedwig, not even glancing at either of them. "He seemed to think it best," Hermione said, breathing a little faster. "Dumbledore, I mean." "Yes," Harry said. He noticed that Hermione also bore the scar from Hedwig's peck on her hand, and that he showed no apology. "I suppose he thought you'd be safest among Muggles—" Ron said.

"Really?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. "Did any of you get attacked by Dementors this summer?"

"Oh, no—that's why he has the Order of the Phoenix following you around—"

Harry felt a sudden lurch in his gut, as if he had missed a step on the stairs. So everyone knew he was being followed, but he was the only one who didn't know.

"It doesn't seem to be working very well, does it?" said Harry, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'll still have to fend for myself, won't I?"

"He was furious," said Hermione, almost tremblingly. "Dumbledore. We saw him. He looked frightening when he found out Mundungus had left before his shift was over."