A Storm Is Rising

Harry Potter sat alone in the Gryffindor common room, late one winter's night. He had a grim expression upon his face and the late-night edition of the Daily Prophet on his lap. It was open on the front page, and the main story made for sickening reading.

You-Know-Who believed to have invented a new Unforgivable Curse!

It is with fear in my heart, dear readers, that I bring you this terrifying news, writes Premier Daily Prophet reporter Rita Skeeter. An attack yesterday evening concludes a week of fear, seeing a home or venue savagely attacked each night.

However, whilst we were first led to believe these strikes were the latest in Muggle or Muggleborn assaults, there is a chilling new twist. In each attack, there were no bodies: simply a mound of dust.

The Ministry of Magic has tried with previously unseen force to keep from you that which I am about to reveal. Extensive and exhaustive testing has concluded that the dust found correlates to the magical core of each victim resides in this dust.

Yes, my faithful readership! It seems that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has invented a curse so evil and powerful it results in his victims being turned to dust...

Harry hadn't yet managed to read any further. It made him sick to think that at the end of his fifth year he had had the chance to put an end to this monster. If only Dumbledore had turned up earlier, if only Sirius hadn't fallen through the veil he might have been thinking more clearly. He felt even sicker, when he realised he had wished Sirius back for such a heartless reason.

But no, he wouldn't think of Sirius, not now anyway. There was plenty of time for that once Voldemort was gone. Hermione had pleaded and begged for him to share his grief, but to no avail. Harry knew, or at least he thought he knew, that if he realised the full extent of his loss, he would never fully recover.

It was late, too late, but he couldn't bare to leave the comfort of his chair by the window. He looked out towards Hagrid's Hut, wondering what it had been like during Hagrid's school years. And then he realised, with a sharp jolt, how Hagrid's school years had been dramatically cut short. It was overwhelming, when he really started to think about it, just how much misery Voldemort had caused.

Harry had just decided it was time for bed, when he heard footsteps coming from the girls' staircase. Before he could contemplate hiding, Hermione Granger rounded the corner and spotted him immediately.

'Harry! What on Earth are you still doing up?' She looked scandalised, standing barefoot in animal-print pyjamas.

'I could ask you the same question,' Harry mumbled in reply.

She walked over to his chair, and sat in one opposite and put up her feet. 'For your information, I woke up and realised I'd forgotten to bring my Ancient Runes essay up with me. What if a house-elf thought it was scrap and threw it away?'

She looked so worried that Harry didn't have the heart to say how abnormal it was to be woken up by such thoughts. 'It's on the table by the stairs, exactly where you left it'.

Hermione dashed to the table, and picked up the essay with relief. 'Thanks, I'd have cried if it had gone. It's a mock exam essay, and I need to have it marked or I could fail the real exam for not having the right essay writing technique! The NEWTS are so close and -'

'You're babbling again,' laughed Harry as Hermione sat back down in her chair. 'And that means only one thing - there's something you want to ask, but you're too nervous to actually come out with it.'

She smiled nervously. 'Harry, I'm just so worried about you. It's been six months since Sirius -'

'Hermione, please, no. You know I don't want to talk about it. Accept that, please.' He was angry, angry that she wouldn't give up on the subject and angry that he hadn't seen this coming. But he didn't show his anger, knowing the best way to win Hermione round was to talk civilly.

Running her hand through her hair, she sighed and tried again. 'I know, and I'm sorry. But I'm just so worried about you! It's three in the morning, and you're down here brooding. It scares me, it scares Ron, too.'

'I'm not brooding! I was just -' he broke off looking shocked. 'Three in the morning? Er, maybe I should try getting to bed earlier.'

'Yes, perhaps you should. Snape won't forgive you if you fall asleep at your desk tomorrow,' she warned. Still feeling shocked that he had spent the past five hours staring at a newspaper and a window, he was also feeling dread at facing a Defence Against The Dark Arts lesson for which he hadn't even attempted to prepare for.

'Hermione...' he began to plead, until she cut him off.

'No note copying. That is, unless you tell me why you've been sitting down here well into the small hours of the morning.' She looked stern, and Harry knew it was either face humiliation in Defence yet again, or give in to his friend. He sighed and threw the Prophet across to her.

'That's the reason.' He watched her whilst she read it. Instead of the look of revolt or disgust he had been expecting, she remained expressionless until she finished the piece. Without ceremony, she threw the paper into the fire.

'That man, if you can call him a man, is -'

But what he was, Harry wasn't about to find out, for they were interrupted by the strangest noise they had ever heard.

Eyes wide, Hermione looked to Harry uncertainly. 'W-what is that?'

'I dunno, it sounds like some sort of whirring noise. Mechanical, at any rate. It's coming from outside!' He leapt up to the window, and stared in disbelief at the sight. 'Hermione, something's Apparating into the grounds! How... just how?'

In a heartbeat, she had joined him at the window. 'Oh my... that's not Apparition, it's too slow for Apparition!' Hermione looked on at the thing, which could only be described as materialising from nowhere, her face a picture of terror.

They stared at it for a few more seconds, before both reaching the same conclusion: 'Get Ron!'

Hermione had just begun to run towards the boys' dormitories, when Harry stopped her. 'No time. Sorry, Ron,' he mumbled before giving a cry of 'Accio Ron!'

Instantly, Ron flew into the common room in his flannel pyjamas, waking up with a start. 'What the...' he said in confusion.

'Ron, wake up right now. Something's happening in the grounds and we need to go find out what,' Harry said, panicking.

Still bleary eyed and half asleep, Ron couldn't get his head around any of what Harry had just said. 'Something? What sort of something?'

'We don't know!' both Harry and Hermione cried. They opened the portrait hole, urging Ron to follow.

'Ron, please, just hurry!' Harry said as he scrambled through. Ron, thinking both his friends had suddenly gone mad, gave in and followed into the silent corridors.

As they hurtled along the corridor, wands held in front of them, they managed to tell Ron all about the Apparating something. 'Except that it couldn't possibly have been Apparition, as it was going far too slow and making strange noises!' Hermione exclaimed, feeling annoyed with herself for not knowing what it was.

They were making so much noise, Harry wondered how they hadn't bumped into a single adult or ghost. But they didn't, and soon arrived at the doors leading outside. Miraculously, and altogether suspiciously, the doors were unlocked. But they gave this no thought, and hurtled through the grounds.

'Whereabouts was it?' asked Ron, as they tore across the immaculate lawns.

'It was on the edge of the forest... There!' Harry cried, as he spied the object.

They ran on, until they where around fifty metres from the object. They pulled to a halt, and hid behind a large tree trunk.

Gasping for breath, Harry craned his neck around the tree. 'What on Earth is that?'

Placing a hand on upon Harry's shoulder for support, Ron puzzled for a second. 'It looks like one of those fellytone boxes Muggles use. Dad has a picture of one on his wall,' he said, by way of explanation.

'No,' said Hermione. 'That's not a telephone box - that's an old Police Box.' Seeing both boys look nonplussed, she carried on, 'A while ago, most specifically the 1950's era, Muggles could use them to contact the police in an emergency. A bit like sending an emergency owl to the Aurors,' she added, seeing Ron looking even more confused.

'They had telephones in them with a direct line to the station, and could also be used to contact police officers who were walking around. The thing is, they were nearly all demolished in the 1960's, and they certainly couldn't appear at will.'

They all shivered. Whilst it had once been a normal Muggle object, to be seen in every city, it stuck out at Hogwarts like a sore thumb.

'Something's not right,' Ron whispered. Silently, the others agreed.

'What do you reckon? Investigate, or get Dumbledore?' Harry asked. He needn't have, and as one, they began to move towards the box.

Suddenly, the doors to the box were thrown open, and a man stood illuminated in the entrance. He looked straight at Harry.

'Hello, Harry. I'm the Doctor.'