Harry Potter and the Deep Freeze

The World Beyond the Dome

Outside the shimmering boundary of the dome, the world was descending into chaos. The frost that had begun as a creeping nuisance had transformed into a relentless force, freezing rivers, fields, and towns in its wake. Winter had arrived early and with an intensity that no one had predicted—or could escape.

The Streets of Diagon Alley

In Diagon Alley, the usually bustling streets were choked with panicked witches and wizards. Long lines snaked out of Flourish and Blotts, where desperate buyers clamored for books on advanced warming charms and protective spells. At Madam Malkin's, a throng of customers fought over the last racks of enchanted winter cloaks, the sound of raised voices carrying through the icy air.

A mother dragged her young son by the hand, her arms laden with packages. "Keep up, Charlie! We can't stay out here too long!" she hissed, glancing nervously at the frost creeping along the cobblestones.

Inside Ollivanders, a crowd of wizards argued over a dwindling stock of wand polish and emergency charms. Garrick Ollivander, his face pale and drawn, worked frantically to restock his shelves, though it was clear supplies were running low.

Even Gringotts was under siege. Goblins stood at the gates, refusing entry to angry wizards who banged on the iron doors, demanding access to their vaults.

"We're running out of time!" one man shouted, his breath visible in the cold. "We need supplies before it's too late!"

Chaos in the Ministry

At the Ministry of Magic, the tension was even worse. The Atrium was packed with witches and wizards shouting over one another, clutching stacks of parchment and official complaints. The fireplaces along the walls roared to life as workers scrambled to handle the influx of Floo calls, their frantic voices echoing through the cavernous space.

"We've lost communication with three more villages in Scotland," barked a harried wizard from the Department of Magical Catastrophes. "The frost is spreading faster than our warming charms can handle!"

Amelia Bones, her normally composed demeanor fraying at the edges, stood at the center of the chaos, issuing orders to a team of Aurors. "We need patrols along the borders of affected areas. If the frost reaches London, we'll have a full-scale disaster on our hands!"

Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, sat in his office, his hands shaking as he read report after report of frozen homes and magical failures. "What's happening out there?" he muttered to himself, his face pale with fear. "This isn't normal magic—it's something worse."

Across the hall, a group of Unspeakables whispered in hushed tones, their faces grim. The frost was beyond their understanding, a force that defied even the most ancient magical knowledge.

Muggle Panic

In the Muggle world, the chaos was no less intense. Shops were stripped bare of food, water, and winter gear. In London, people lined the streets, shivering as they queued outside department stores for coats and blankets.

A news report flickered on a television screen in a crowded café:

"The unusual cold front sweeping the globe shows no signs of slowing down. Meteorologists are baffled, as temperatures have plummeted to record lows in just a matter of days. Authorities are urging everyone to stock up on essential supplies and stay indoors as much as possible."

A man in the corner shook his head, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. "It's not just the cold—it's something else. Feels wrong, like the air itself is turning against us."

In rural areas, entire villages were cut off by walls of ice. Roads were impassable, rivers frozen solid. Emergency shelters filled to capacity as families huddled together for warmth, their breaths forming clouds in the frigid air.

A Growing Divide

While chaos reigned in the wizarding and Muggle worlds alike, whispers of a sanctuary began to spread. Rumors of a protected dome, a magical haven untouched by the freeze, drifted from one desperate group to another.

"It's in Scotland," a woman in a crowded inn whispered to her companions. "They say it's hidden near an old castle. Warmth, food, safety—it's real, I tell you."

Her friend scoffed. "A fairy tale. If there were such a place, the Ministry would've taken it over by now."

But even as the rumors grew, so did the divide. Those who believed in the dome's existence grew more desperate to find it, while others dismissed it as false hope.

And through it all, the frost continued its advance, creeping closer to the heart of Britain with every passing day.

A World on the Brink

The frost was no longer a silent killer. Its presence was everywhere—in the ice-coated streets, the shivering crowds, the panic in every glance. It crept into dreams, filling people with an unshakable sense of dread.

But it wasn't just the cold that haunted them. It was the feeling that something else was coming, something worse than ice.

And in the midst of the chaos, the dome stood as a silent beacon, unseen by most but felt by all. Its magic radiated outward, a faint glow against the encroaching darkness.

The world was crumbling, but inside the dome, there was still hope.

For now.