Title: The Rising Darkness

Summary: Action/Adventure/Angst/Romance

Spoilers: All 4 books

Disclaimer: Hmmm...let's see, if I change these records here…move those there. Yes! I now own Harry Potter!! Wait…yes I've taken my medication. What are you doing? Where am I going? Help!!

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1

The circular rooms' windows overlooked the entire span of the vast lake south of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And through the light mist settling, Albus Dumbledore stared silently at the surging black waters and at the ominous shadow of the Dark Forest, which marked the boundary of School Grounds. Below the treetops, he noticed a shimmering light bobbing through the tangled braches. Hagrid, the half giant groundskeeper and teacher at Hogwarts must be making his usual rounds. Dumbledore mused on the man for a moment; Hagrid was always persecuted by his bloodline yet had remained one of the kindest men Albus Dumbledore knew. And he had met a lot over the past hundred and fifty years.

A gentle tap came from the direction of the large oak door that led to the outside world and pulled Dumbledores' mind from the grounds and back inside his school. Turning around, he glanced at the room he kept his office in. Rich blue and gold colored walls and a marble floor outlined the room. A large mahogany desk and a high scarlet chair were his workplace. Cabinets covered in variable trinkets stood against the walls and above those: pictures of former Headmasters. These were asleep at the moment, at peace with their worlds.

Facing the door, he looked at the perch next to it and at his red and gold plumed phoenix, Fawkes, asleep upon it.

The knocking came again; more incessant this time and it roused Fawkes, who trilled a note before tucking his head underneath one wing.

"Come in," he sighed and went to his desk, sitting behind it and waiting for the arrival.

And as he sat, the door opened to allow a woman with ebony hair up in a tight bun and steel gray eyes behind square glasses. Her emerald robes were ruffled from a long broom flight, and she was panting lightly, as though she had finished a long run.

Peering at her from over his half-moon spectacles he smiled and beckoned her further inside.

"Minerva, a pleasure. I thought you were shopping with Xiomara in London. We weren't expecting you back 'till Sunday."

"As were we planning, until I read this." She pulled a folded pile pf thick parchment from a pocket and placed it on his blotter.

Glancing at it, he noticed it was the "Daily Prophet" the wizarding newsletter. He glanced up at her, slightly confused and she sat in an opposite armchair in front of the desk.

"Look on page three."

He did so and found a picture of a well-to-do Muggle house or…what used to be a Muggle house. The entire second story was torn apart and had fallen into the primary floor. Men and women everywhere in Ministry of Magic uniforms searched through piles of rubble. And near the place were the photo had been taken were two black body bags.

"It looks familiar—"

McGonagall cut him off with a wave of her hand. "As it should. That's Number Four…Privet Drive."

Suddenly a terrible sickness washed through his stomach. "Harry." He only said the name, but that was enough to convey the terror he now felt.

McGonagall nodded silently and he could see the starting of tears forming in her eyes. "There were…there are…no survivors as of that printing." She stopped and blinked furiously.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded quickly and averted her gaze to stare out the window. "It seemed to be a random attack. The team there, they're not letting the reporters get much information."

"They have their reasons." Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. McGonagall mearly stared at him, silent and doleful.

"I must meet with the Minister." He said suddenly, jarring her out of the quiet.

"Albus?"

Dumbledore rose and walked to his door. "There are more answers than what that said," he gestured to the newspaper. "And I want them. Voldemort—" McGonagall shivered at the name but remained silent. "He shouldn't of, it was almost impossible for him to get near Harry while he stayed there." And with those shaky words he twisted the doorknob, opened it, stepped out into the stairwell and left.

McGonagall was left sitting in the chair, dozens of questions flitting around her sharp mind. With a sigh of half annoyance, half amusement she looked to the now awake Fawkes. "Sometimes, he makes me truly wonder Fawkes."

She could have sworn that Fawkes agreed.

The Ministry of Magic when Dumbledore arrived was hectic. Witches and Wizards almost ran each other over as they hurried to file paperwork, answer phones, and speak to balls of flames with peoples' worried faces in them. Others, Dumbledore assumed they were from the attack site were sitting around in empty chairs stunned. Dumbledore then had one of his many questions answered: The Ministry of Magic or at least some of them knew of Harry Potters' disappearance or probable death.

He brushed past several harried witches and leaned to speak to a wizard idle for the moment. "Do you know where the Minister is?"

The man turned to him, green eyes blurred from lack of sleep. "Most likely in his office, Sir."

"Thank you." With robes of deep purple billowing, he turned and walked to the back hallway where Fudge's office was located.

Announcing his presence with a sharp rap on the oaken door Dumbledore stepped into the circular office of Cornelius Fudge.

The Minister of Magic was a small portly man always dressed in some shade of green pinstriped suit. His matching bowler hat was hanging on the rack to the right of Dumbledore. Fudge also, in Dumbledores opinion, had little common sense. The man had not taken the advice to remove the Dementors from Azkaban and now the guards were slowly disappearing.

Fudge looked up from the papers he had been writing and smiled wearily. "Albus! It's wonderful you're here. I need—"

"Has there been any news on Harry?" Dumbledore started with no preamble, he was tired, worried, and annoyed. The Minister bit his lower lip and shook his head.

"We've found the bodies of a Vernon Dursley, Dudley Dursley, and Petunia Dursley. Harry Potter cannot be found. We have teams there searching for any sign of him. He's either dead—"

"Do not say that." Dumbledores voice held an icy edge. "Would you wish the entire magical world to lose hope?"

"The boy cannot be found Albus! You-Know-Who's won this time." Fudge rose from his desk and wrung his hands together.

Dumbledore frowned at the smaller man. "If you say that Voldemort—" he ignored the flinch Fudge gave, "has won, you might as well allow him to." Then, the reality of just what the Minister was, a small man with no hope at all, sunk into Dumbledore and he shook his head regretfully. "I do hope Cornelius, that you will keep me informed. I must return to Hogwarts."

"Albus, you can't surely expect the school to run!"

"Where else will the children be safe?" Albus Dumbledore then turned on his heel and apparated, leaving Fudge to stare at the spot he had once been.

From the shadows of the office, Lucius Malfoy stepped from his hiding spot and clapped a hand on Fudges shoulder. "Make sure Dumbledore does not get his hands on that boy before I do…or else." He smoothed his robes and walked to the door. As he was halfway out of the office, he paused, turned, and smiled wickedly at the Minister. "You know, your wife is rather pretty."

With that, he was gone and Fudge again was left to watch. He shook the feeling of Malfoys touch off and returned to his desk.