DISCLAIMER: Any likeness to the Harry Potter book series or characters there in is completely intentional. All the rights of Harry Potter belong to people other than me (Warner Brothers, Random House, J. K. Rowling, etc.). This story is 100% not approved by the writer of Harry Potter, should she ask me to lay off I would bow to her wishes. Oh, and this story is also LOADED with Harry Potter: 4 spoilers so if you haven't read Goblet of Fire, might wanna wait on this story.



Harry Potter and the Darkness Within
by Mackenzie Thea


Chapter 1
"Nothing to do with You-Know-Who"



While his arch nemesis was plotting his cruel and messy demise, Harry Potter slept. But it was not a good sleep, the sleep someone who had just cheated death once yet again would embrace. It was a truly terrifying sleep, the kind where you dream bone-chilling heart stopping sinister dreams ... that you know are real. This was the sleep that met Harry every time he laid his head to rest as of late. So there he lay, deep in a dream of his enemies slowing planning his death, with nothing he could do to stop them or the dream itself.


It was just before dawn when Harry awoke with a start, his dreams were getting worse with each passing night. He tried to convince himself that his dreams were not real, but to no avail. He knew they must be true. He'd be a fool not to think that Voldemort was boiling with rage that Harry's death had once again eluded him, just as it had fourteen years ago. Now Harry was left dazed, stunned with raw emotions of fear and hate and an incredible sense that there wasn't anything he could do. Harry swung his feet over the side of the bed and shivered. Sirius had told him in an owl to tell him and Dumbledore everything he could remember of his dreams.

"...As scary as it must sound, you are linked with Him and that link might just be his downfall, anything you remember could help us destroy him..."

So Harry staggered over to his desk in the darkness (the sun had just barely kissed the morning sky) for a quill and ink. At that moment Hedwig, Harry's faithful and beautiful messenger owl, flew in through Harry's barely open window with two things in her beak; a note and a newspaper.

"Morning Hedwig..." Harry muttered drowsily wondering if he had subscribed to the Daily Prophet. As Hedwig swooped down on to Harry's desk beside him he realized that he hadn't subscribed, so he took the note and the paper (which was indeed The Daily Prophet) from Hedwig and read the note first. He tore it open to see the familiar and neat handwriting of one of his best friends, Hermoine Granger. This made sense, the last errand he'd sent Hedwig on was to Hermoine. He sent her a note asking for help with his Potions study work he'd gotten for the Holidays. In actuality he hadn't heard from Hermione in about a month and wanted to know she was okay. Harry stroked Hedwig back as he read Hermione note.

"Dear Harry,

First of all if you add the Chimera Scales before letting the Unicorn Mane Hairs and BillyWigg Wings boil the cauldron will turn to crystal, so, yes there is something wrong with your formula. Secondly, Hedwig has with her a copy of today's Daily Prophet with an article highlighted in it. Please read the article, it is about all that has happened with the recent attack on Godric's Hollow and He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named. But, as you will see, Minister Fudge still denies everything that happened last term. I hope your dreams get better, Harry. But you say that your scar is not hurting? Well, that must be a good sign, right? If you need any more help, with anything not just school work, don't hesitate to write.

All my love,
Hermione"

Hermoine is right, thought Harry, my scar hasn't hurt all summer, that must be a good sign.
Harry blinked, he had slept the night but his eyes stung as though he been watching a blazing fire for hours. Harry yawned, then he turned to pick up the newspaper Hermione had sent, ignoring Hedwig who glared at the lack of attention and before retreating to her cage for water. Harry unfolded the newspaper and, sure enough, one article was highlighted in green, Harry read it with rapt silence.

"Fudge cries 'Nothing To Do With You-Know-Who'

Last week the sanctity of Godric's Hollow was horribly vandalized leaving the victims families crying out for more than justice.
"We want revenge!" Says one house wife, 48 year old Mabel Ashsot who lost both her husband John, 51, and best friend Sharon Silling, 34, in last weeks attack. "We didn't do anything. John didn't do anything! We didn't deserve what we got..."
The witness stopped, breaking into great sobs and unable to continue. But she is not the only one, many others, like Mabel lost as much as their families and houses to Dark Wizards last week. Although many believe that it was not just a group of out of control wizards, but a Brigade led by none other then He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named come back.
One corespondent, Phineas Diggle has such to say on the matter.
'We've got to be sensible,' says Diggle, 52. 'We all know this wasn't a handful of crazy guys! They was working for someone and even if it isn't You-Know-Who we need to prepare ourselves for who e'er 'twas!'

So the question is, who is at fault? And who to blame? At time of press Minister Corneilius Fudge denies all rumors that the Dark Lord has risen and claims that the three incidents the death of Cedric Diggory, Amos Diggory's (from Departedment for the Regulation and control of Magical Creatures) son, the burning of the muggle town of Little Hangleton which killed nearly thirty muggles and the recent attack now known as the 'Godric's Hollow Massacre'. Even though the Dark Mark was seen in the sky at the latter incidents.
This reporter went incognito to get the story from the muggles who saw it. One muggle, 62 year old Brand Gilman, testified seeing exactly what happened (before the ministry came and Charmed his memory).

'There was a bald guy, big and lanky,' said Gilman. 'And this short guy, small sorta with a fancy gray glove on. Them and a bunch o' masked men set fire to the old Riddle Manor, but that was okay since nobody was in there what with Frank Bryce's body found out in the street 'bout a fortnight before. At least that's where the fire started, then it spread like... fire.'

The 'tall, lanky' man Mr. Gilman referred to is believed, by some, to be none other than the Dark Lord himself. The 'short' man he refers to is believed to be Arthur Fenton who as of last August worked for the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Zoology's cataloging division. Sixteen days before the Quidditch World Cup he took off work and has not been seen or heard from since. On representative from his department, Alfred Levington, 38, had this to say.

'Arthur is a good man, honest and hard working, he used to be mixed up with You-Know-Who, but he isn't anymore. He had taken off work with leave for the Quidditch World Cup, I don't know where he is now but I hope he is safe, poor sod.'

Alfred Levington stated also that he and a group of Arthur Fentons coworkers will serve as character witnesses if need be but that he had to leave now because he had to meet a shipment of BillyWiggs to make sure that the shipment contained no smuggled new breeds.

Minister Fudge, when asked for comment, had this to say.
'These attacks are, uh, sad, yes, indeed, er, tragic, quite. But weee...we at the Ministry of Magic, are, uh, sure, yes, quite sure that they have, er, not-nothing to do with You-Know-Who... yes.. that is, that is all."

But when this reported asked why, if The Dark Lord was not involved, was the Dark Mark present at the last two attacks only to see the Minister defensively yell 'Shut Up!'
However it is said that not only was the Dark Mark present at the Godric's Hollow Massacre, but so was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! One witness, who asked to remain anonymous, saw the Dark Lord and now recalls what he saw.

'I saws ''im, saws 'im as clears as I sees you! Wai' where are ye? O there ya are, well any who I saws the Dark Lordy last week! Riding a two heade-three headed Nundu he wus! He opind his mouth and blaising FIRE come, rush-rush-running outta it! He spoke a weird tongue, sorta loud and uh, I dunno, mighta ben English....'

This witness, too, found himself unable to speak as he had passed out.
Last week, here in Godric's Hollow, over sixty muggle born wizards were tortured and killed. Despite the official word from the Ministry, He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named is the prime suspect even though no-one can fathom how he came back, or why the Ministry would deny rather than take action.
Whatever the reason, whoever the killer, the families of those that died are now left to pick up the pieces. Their souls may, however, take solace in the fact that Albus Dumbledore himself is thoroughly investigating the matter."

At those last words of the article, Harry's heart lightened. He thought of Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most learned and wise and powerful Wizard, probably in all the world. If there was anyone who would solve all of this, it was him. Dumbledore was, after all, the only Wizard Voldemort was afraid of and didn't dare mess with. At Voldemort downfall fourteen years ago, Dumbledore was asked to be Minister of Magic, but he refused saying his place was at Hogwarts.
Harry intertwined his fingers and stretched them, they made a satisfying pop. Harry reach across the desk for his ink and parchment, but it was then that he realized. He had forgotten everything he had dreamt!