A/N This is my first fic so please don't flame me, or be too harsh, my spelling and grammar Leave a lot to be desired, but that I'm afraid I try my best to help it but sometimes I cannot! If you have a problem with it then its best you do not read this fic. Sorry to be Harsh!

Also I am a die hard Sirius fan, he features a lot in my story, but not until chapter 3, I think.

I love positive reviews, so please let me know what you think.

When The Worst Is Coming

Chapter one

Famous last words

The thin figure held the wand before himself steady as a rock, oblivious to the scene of terror all around him. People were running in all directions trying to protect their families; the main source of terror however, was coming from the largest house, which was now on fire. On the lawn there were bodies strewn everywhere and above the roof was the dark mark glowing in the sky like a beacon of devastation.

Then, out of nowhere, a death eater Apparated.

"Master," said the death eater shakily. The thin pale man showed no sign of recognition in his face at all. "Master, beg my asking you, but whom or what's next?"

Then at last the man lowered his wand as if resigned to talk to the death eater. Then a small smile - not happy, but cruel and unkind, played on the corner of his mouth. "You know to whom we owe a little trip, Wormtail?" said the man, turning to face him.

Wormtail shivered "Er…. I do?"

"Yes…HARRY POTTER."

"AAAAAAHHH…"

Harry awoke covered in sweat and shaking. His head was swimming. Was that…no, it couldn't have been…His scar was burning but was already staring to fade, as was his dream so Harry quickly grabbed his glasses and put them on.

The room came into focus; Harry had spent the holiday so far in the spare room because Dudley had now got so many old toys, computer games, clothes and general rubbish which he hoarded and refused, point blank, to throw away. So there was no other thing for it, no matter how many tears Aunt Petunia shed, Harry would have to sleep in the beautiful spare room, because Harry was too tall to fit in the cupboard under the stairs any more and Dudley needed his old room for his rubbish. This suited Harry just fine because unlike his other bedroom it was extremely clean and tidy and reminded him slightly of his room at Hogwarts.

The room itself was antique looking, the walls were dark green, and the carpet was a creamy colour on top of, which was a large rug that uncle Vernon had put down so Harry didn't have to walk on the new carpet. The rug was pale green flecked with darker shades of green.

The room had little furniture - just a desk and a wardrobe and a huge mirror all made of highly polished beach wood.

It was a fairly large room and square in shape and it was also away from the other bedrooms. Well, as far away as you can get in a fairly small house. However, the biggest advantage was that the window was on the other side of the house, so that Hedwig could send messages at night without anyone knowing.

Harry started to go to the other side of the room but then tripped up and landed in a small heap at the end of his double bed, "Ouch," he gasped.

Recently Harry had been growing very fast; he looked down at his sad looking Pyjamas, a few inches too short but nearly twice his waist size.

"At least," Harry thought "I'll never be as tall as Ron - he must be nearing 6 feet tall by now."

Then Harry got up off the carpet, sat at his desk and quickly jotted down his dream - but he struggled to remember it.(Although somewhere deep inside his head he knew just refused to except it.)

Harry almost dreaded going to sleep now because when he did, all he saw were horrible visions. When he wasn't having visions, he was always reliving Cedric's death, over and over and over…

"Kill the spare," the words that haunted him day and night, day and night…

Harry shook his head to clear it of these dark thoughts that seem to be intruding it every so often…

He then got changed, his clothes weren't as bad as his Pyjamas, because Aunt Petunia had finally relented and bought him some clothes (the neighbours were starting to ask questions "Can't you afford proper clothing for the boy?")Harry almost felt like thanking his neighbours as he went down stairs to have breakfast.

When Harry arrived in the kitchen the scene was much as it had been last summer and the summer before that. Dudley was still grossly fat (and had pretty much given up on his diet.)

Aunt Petunia was still fussing over Dudley and feeding him as much as she could. When he lost a single pound after coming back from Smeltings, she thought they were starving him. So therefore whenever Dudley refused to eat something (which wasn't very often), Aunt Petunia would burst into tears and starts to scream "no, my poor little Dudders is anorexic!"

Uncle Vernon still sat at his favourite place at the table reading the paper, complaining loudly about the same old things - today, it was teenagers.

"They drop out of school while we pump our money into their health care and schoolbooks - where's the justice in that? They're troublemakers and are disobedient…you know why? It is because they're brought up without manners!" spat Uncle Vernon, shooting a death stare at Harry.

This idea that all teenagers were useless applied to all except his little angel Dudley who, in his view, was perfect and should be the role model for all teenagers in the country. Also, in his view, every Parent in England should model their child exactly like Dudley.

Harry hoped not all teenagers would be modelled around Dudley's physique, or they wouldn't be able to get through the front door! But on the bright side they wouldn't have to walk, they could just roll everywhere!

Harry stifled a snigger and grabbed some toast just as they heard the clink of the letterbox and the flop of the letters on the doormat.

"Get the letters, boy," Uncle Vernon grunted at Harry.

Apparently he had forgotten the Hogwarts' letters incident four summers ago.

Harry didn't expect to get any letters. (He grinned remembering the time Ron sent a letter to him covered in stamps). So Harry was ever so surprised when there was one letter, amongst the bills which had his name on it.

Mr H. Potter,

The Spare Room,

4 Privet Drive,

Little Whinging,

Surrey.

The envelope was thick and yellowish and the writing was in emerald-green ink. Harry didn't need to see the Hogwarts seal on the back to know whom it was from.

Harry quickly put the envelope inside his jacket, and walked back into the kitchen.

Harry put the letters on the table in front of Uncle Vernon.

"Well you sure took your time," grunted Mr Dursley.

"Yes well I tripped over - I'm really clumsy and messy, you know me," Harry said, trying to suck up to his Uncle; the only way to do this is simply to insult himself.

"Um," said Mr Dursley excepting this excuse, although Harry had a feeling that it was only because of the insults, because every so often he threw Harry suspicious glances.

Then Dudley provided the perfect distraction, he had been leaning back on his chair all through breakfast and finally the poor chair gave way with a huge crash Dudley lay on his back his little legs wriggling in the air like an upturned beetle.

As usual when things like this happen Harry dived under the table so he couldn't be seen laughing - this was a good thing because their wasn't much for him to laugh at anymore he stopped laughing as Cedric came into his mind "Harry why are you laughing? when it is your fault I am dead."

So for the second time that day Harry shook his head to keep the dark thoughts away.

Once the situation had died down Harry left the table - and his toast he didn't quite feel like eating breakfast after thinking of Cedric. He quickly walked out of the kitchen as if everything was normal. (Well, as normal as you can get in a house with one Wizard and three Wizard haters.)

Then Harry went up to his room to read his letter, but not before sinking down the wall and concentrating all of his might (which at the moment there seemed to be less of.)Into keeping calm and sane - It seemed to be taking more and more effort recently.

Harry decided to think about his letter instead - He was especially pleased with receiving the letter because he felt as if he was being kept in the dark, maybe not purposely. It is hard when you live in the Muggle world to find out about the Wizarding world.

Although Harry had only been home about a week he had heard nothing from anyone. Harry hoped everyone was all right and no one had got hurt because of him (Although he knew in the back of his mind that the dark lord was only after him - "makes me feel so special,"). He remembered his dream - had that happened yet? He hoped not, except he couldn't really remember the details, they were slipping away like a glass with a hole in. "Maybe I can stop that from happening," he thought "once I read this, I'll send Hedwig to Dumbledore and explain everything that I remember."

"Maybe not everything…I won't tell him about them coming after me; every one will just worry for no reason - this house is well protected. No one can lay a finger on me here."

Then Harry quickly opened the letter:

Harry, at 6:00 p.m. tonight, meet me at Magnolia Crescent in the narrow alley between the garage and the wall of No 2. Come alone and bring this letter and your wand - Moony.

A/N Okay, not a great ending I know but the next chapter has a nice little Cliffie! Don't forget to R&R, thankz.