Chapter One: Don't Speak

Dark, gray clouds gathered above as a lightning split the night sky. Wind ruffling through his hair, a young boy of fifteen walked through the park, seemingly oblivious of his surroundings. People around him hurried off to find shelter as the heavens started to weep, mourning for the boy's loss and inner turmoil.

Pausing in the streets for a while, the boy raised his emerald eyes upwards, letting his glasses catch the spatter of rain that fell. Returning his gaze to the streets, he picked up his pace, old shoes stepping in the heavy flow of water running down the pavement.

Letting out a small sigh, Harry continued walking, thoughts filled with Sirius and what the Dursleys' would say when he entered their house sopping wet from head to toe. Vernon Dursley would probably have the time of his life.

As he neared his place of residence, Harry noticed that someone had been following him. He remembered seeing that same outfit and figure at the bus stop when he alighted, around ten minutes ago. Trying to calm himself and pretending that he had not noticed, he continued walking normally towards the right turn nearing Privet Drive. Turning at the street corner, he broke out into an all-out sprint, as he heard a muffled oath behind him. His feet pounded on the sidewalk, throwing water up in every direction as his heart pounded in tandem from fear. Reaching the garden gates of Number Four Privet Drive, he vaulted over and pounded on the front door frantically, wishing that for once the Dursleys' would answer the door fast.

Cursing mentally , Harry suddenly remembered his uncle's words that the family would be leaving in the night for a three week long holiday at the Bahamas.

"Frigging idiots locked me out of the bloody house," muttered Harry, as he searched the house for an alternative route in.

Noticing the pipe that ran from the roof of the house to the bottom, Harry threw all caution to the wind and started to scale the slippery pipe, hoping that his pursuer had given up chase. Halfway up, he glanced behind and noticed the same cloaked figure entering from an alleyway off Sunset Drive and running towards his direction.

Swearing violently, he scrambled off the pipe and onto the slippery ledge of his bedroom window. Prying open the wet wood of the window, he pushed it upwards and collapsed into the relative safety of his room. Not wasting a moment, Harry stood up and slammed the window down and pulled out his wand, ears preened for any sound that might give his pursuer away.

After pausing for a moment, he raised his head slightly above the window ledge, and cautiously looked out into the raining blackness. With a startled yelp, he realized that there was a cloaked figure standing on the streets looking at his window and more specifically, straight at him.

Sitting back down on the floor in his damp clothes, Harry glanced at the empty cage of his beloved owl, Hedwig. He had sent her to deliver his usual "I'm fine" letter to the Order. Tensed up and blood pounding through his veins, he was far from fine at the moment. He nearly let out a laugh from the irony of the situation he was in.

Without warning the lights flickered and died. "Shit… of all the times why now?" thought Harry as darkness invaded the household.

He looked out at the streets again only to see no one at all. Puzzled, he studied the street carefully. Lightning lit up the night sky and Harry caught a glimpse of his own pale and scared reflection staring back at him off the window surface.

Another bolt of lightning showed a cloaked figure behind him.

Driven by fear, he turned violently and threw a stunning spell at the man only for it to be harmlessly absorbed by his cloak.

"Expelliar-"

"Stop!" shouted the man, his wandless hands raised up in an attempt to pacify Harry.

"Who are you?!" asked Harry his wand still trained upon the man's heart.

"I can't tell you that but I can assure you that if I wanted you to be dead, you would have been dead a long time ago. Please Mr. Potter, put down your wand and listen to what I have to say. I'm with you and against Voldemort," replied the man, calmly puling Harry's chair from his table to take a seat.

"If you still do not believe me, then I will show you that I am no Death Eater," said the man, as he rolled up the sleeves of his robes to show Harry that there was no dark mark present.

Harry stood there silent; every fibre of his being itching to hex this man, although his instincts told him that he could be trusted. Furthermore he had said Voldemort's name as if he was used to it and most importantly for Harry, he had said it without fear.

Lowering his wand but still holding on to it, Harry sat down on the edge of his bed, tense and wary of the unknown man. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Mr. Potter. We have been watching you for the past two years now and we have noticed enormous potential within you. We can help you to defeat Voldemort if you will join us. I'm part of an elite group of individuals within the Department of Mysteries.

"We exist separately from the Minister's control and function differently from the Hit-wizards and Aurors. We work in the silence and in the shadows. Not many witches and wizards know of our identities as, more importantly, our jobs… are not spoken of."

Eyes wide with astonishment and awe, Harry stood up abruptly.

"You're an Unspeakable aren't you? Why do you need me for? As in… what purpose would I have to join you?"

"Now now … that would be telling wouldn't it? But rest assured Mr. Potter if you were to join us, you would be free from the manipulations of your meddlesome Headmaster and you would also be free from this pathetic excuse for a family called the Dursleys'.

"We will train you to become better than you can ever imagine and you will bring down the Dark Lord Voldemort. We know about the Prophecy and we know about you. The chance is here Mr. Potter. It's a matter of whether you would like to or not.

"And what happens if I say no?" questioned Harry his thoughts in a whirlpool of emotions.

The Unspeakable leaned back on his chair, "Then this conversation will never have happened and I will simply remove your memories of this event."

Harry started thinking. If he were to leave the Dursleys' for good, he would be able to train and get ready for his confrontation with Voldemort. He would be able to protect his friends and the people he loved and cared about. An image of his friends' dead bodies, unbidden, rose into his mind. He was never going to let that happen again, not after what happened with Sirius.

Making his mind up, Harry turned towards the figure in the darkness as the pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof echoed throughout the silent house. Green eyes bored into the hood of the man, trying to perceive the unseen depths.

"Alright, I'm joining. Where do I sign?"

If he had known better, he could have sworn he heard the man give a victory hiss.

"Raise your wand to your heart and repeat the words on this slip of paper."

Raising his wand, Harry swallowed his nervousness and said "I, Harry James Potter and assigned the Codename: Phoenix, hereby do solemnly and sincerely pledge my allegiance to the Department of Mysteries and the Company of Unspeakables. I also swear to uphold its secrets and missions within my mind and to speak of it to no one else lest I be punished by death."

A brilliant flash of light was observed at his wand tip and Harry felt a comfortable weight settle in his chest.

The cloaked figure stood up , and lowered his black hood to expose a middle aged man with steel gray eyes and black hair streaked with silver. Grinning, he reached out a black gloved hand and Harry promptly took hold of it, grinning at him as well.

"Name's Croaker, Mr. Potter. Welcome… to the Unspeakables."