Privet Drive - 1981
It was a nice enough neighborhood. Trees, houses, little shops on the corner, the usual aspects that combine and result in a perfect environment for a little boy to grow up. Yet, despite all this, Minerva McGonagall could not help but feel that this extraordinary child she had just dropped off, was perhaps was not suited for this particular life.
She had delivered the boy alongside her life-long friend, and colleague, Headmaster Dumbledore, not 5 minutes before shifting into her typical tabby form and perching upon a brick wall adjacent to the Dursley residence. The child was laid to rest, comfortably swaddled in blankets and placed asleep onto the welcome mat. Everything had gone to plan. But then what was this sudden hesitation? This urge to pick up the supposed 'chosen one 'and transfigure back to the comfort of her own home? Not wanting to subvert the plan that, not only the school but the ministry, had devised, she sat and waited until his guardians would take him in.
She had kept watch for two hours before growing tired and shifting back into her anthropomorphic form and ringing the doorbell.
Nothing.
She rang again.
Silence followed.
She began to wonder whether this was the correct house until she heard a series of loud footsteps leading to the door. She quickly shifted and hid amongst the bushes and watched the scene unfold.
"Who the bloody hell is ringing my doorbell at 2 bloody o'clock in the morning!"
This uproar sequentially woke the child.
"P-Petunia!" His thundering continued as he screamed upstairs. A tall, spindly woman descended looking equally as irritated by their abrupt awakening.
"What the hell is that?" She stared wide eyed at the still screaming Harry "Is- Is there a note?" Her tone made the professor's fur stand on end. Minerva had expected shock, however, she had not expected disgust.
"Here" Vernon Dursley snatched the paper from underneath Harry, disregarding his crying, "We are sorry to inform you that in the past week your sister and brother-in-law passed away. You have been reviewed as the child's (Name: Harry James Potter) legal guardians as a result of this tragedy. We deeply apologise for your loss and hope you will provide your nephew with a loving home. My deepest sympathies, Albus Dumbledore."
Whilst Petunia turned her face away from her husband to disguise what one could only assume were tears of grief, the venting of her husband continued as he evaluated what to do next.
"Your bloody sister! I knew no good could come from her and that rat she married." He huffed "Well there's only one option isn't there!" As Petunia reached down to pick Harry up, her hands were met with a sharp slap from Vernon.
"Don't pick it up!" he shouted, "Look...if we leave it outside ...maybe, I don't know, someone else will pick him up?"
"Vernon!" Petunia raised her voice, standing face to face with her husband "He is on our doorstep! We have to take him whether we like it or not!"
"Well I do not! And whilst this is my house you will live under my rules! He will remain outside until we can think of a better idea to do with hi- WILL YOU SHUT IT!" He screamed towards Harry giving him a moderate poke to the side with his slippered foot. And with that, shut the door.
Minerva would have no more of this. She could already picture the life the poor child would lead, hidden away, an inconvenience to their loathsome lifestyle. She plodded up to Harry who was quietly whimpering away after the experience with his uncle and aunt, her tail slowly stroking against the palm of his outstretched hand. A sharp tug from the child quickly resulted in Minerva transforming back into her human self. She stared at him from a height, perplexed. Could she really do this? Defy the ministry and her friend?
She saw that there was no other option than to do just that.
Bending down and gently lifting Harry into her arms, she raised one arm sweeping her emerald cape around her and disaporating into the air. Away from the Dursleys, away from Privet Drive, away to what she hoped would be a new and spectacular life for an incredibly special young bairn.